Hope

I wake, for the first time in a long time, with a spark of hope in my spirit. Not a lot, but a glimmer, and a sense of new beginning. Spring arrives next week, maybe that’s part of it. Or maybe the time change caused something to shift in a Back-To-The-Future-ish manner. I don’t know,

Enough

I want to spend an hour or so, virtually, in the company of women, playing with watercolour and conversing, but I have things on the go and a little dog who demands my attention so I steal delicious snippets in which I can be present. It has to be enough. I work on a painting where

Choices

I hit “publish” on my previous post and stand up. With an empty coffee mug in one hand and a sleepy Yorkie in the other, I turn toward the window. Then my jaw drops. Literally. “Are you kidding?” I mumble to no one. Fat white feather-like snowflakes are falling. The roofs of the houses in

Love Language

Barbara Brown Taylor (author of many books, including one of my favourites, Leaving Church), in a conversation on the Encountering Silence podcast, refers to silence as “God’s love language”. I sit with that thought for a time. I can’t claim to understand exactly what she meant, but believe silence is, to some extent, everyone’s love

Tired

Man, I am tired. Weary, yes, of the din of news cycles and media of all kinds, but the weary in my mind has morphed into something physical. I wake unrefreshed after a full night’s sleep. My body aches with pain I struggle to identify. It’s there, but where? Everywhere? Nowhere? What kind of pain?

Remembering Manderley

Eleven years ago, Gerry and I were in Saskatchewan thinking about buying a farm. It was a crazy dream, one that would have turned our lives upside down but, man, we had fun with that dream. We finally decided that it wasn’t the right thing for us and, as we headed for home, our hearts

Wonder

Long before dawn I stand at the window in the den and look up at the moon. It seems especially bright and beautiful in the south west sky. My imagination flits about, and I think about the ancients and the superstition and stories they crafted around this light in the night. I expect that among these

Moonlight

I peer out the window over top of the blind in the den and see a cul de sac bathed in light. It’s not the artificial light of streetlights, (They’re off. I’ve never been able to figure out the schedule they operate on.) but the ethereal glow of moonlight. I knew the moon was full

Late Winter

We think about taking the dogs for a walk in the sunshine after lunch but the wind kicks up again. Instead, we leave the pups at home and go for a drive. We stop by the community garden for the first time this year and see nothing reaching through the straw covered area where we

A Little Fatigued

It’s noticeable. Dawn comes earlier and dusk, later. We’re on the other side of the recent cold snap , tiptoeing ever closer to spring. There’s still a ways to go, and spring fever hasn’t kicked in yet, but there’s a sense of coming through that’s undeniable. Meanwhile, we’re still jigsaw-ing and enjoying multiple daily chess

Change

The cold snap eases its grip slightly, begrudgingly, giving in to the inevitability of change. If we hadn’t rocked over our front flower bed last year, I imagine I would have seen the green of brave crocuses by now. They would have been covered by snow, and uncovered again, and I’d marvel at their tenacity