Friday, August 18, 2017

“Silence is like scouring sand. When you are quiet, the silence blows against your mind and etches away everything that is soft and unimportant.”

~ Gordon Hempton

I’m dreaming that I am driving toward Weyburn, Saskatchewan to meet my mom when I decide to turn around and go to her house instead. I am anticipating the comfort of being in my mom’s house with her; I wake, nostalgic, because it’s been so long since I was.

Outside the wind blows. I leave Maya sleeping and pad to the kitchen to make coffee. She hears, and follows, and we go outside for her morning business.  The air, cool and fresh in the wind, is a welcome treat.

Sixteen jars of spaghetti sauce stand in formation on the kitchen counter–evidence of yesterday’s cooking and canning effort. As the coffee brews I check that they all sealed and think about how my canning shelves are filling up. Simple happy.

As I return to the bedroom with a cup of hot frothy coffee, my phone beeps with a text message from Gerry. They’re just waiting for it to get light before heading out on the chuck. Its been raining; I hope the weather doesn’t adversely impact their day.

Back in bed, Maya and I settle in: me with my iPad, her with an inclination to go back to sleep. Day begins.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.
  1. “Heading out on the chuck.” What is that?

    1. Hmmm….maybe it’s a Canadianism. We refer to the ocean as the “salt chuck” sometimes.

      1. I figured it had something to do with boating or fishing, but I’d never heard that before. 🙂

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