I write in the morning, weaving threads and creating tapestry, lost in the process. In the afternoon, I settle into my favourite spot on the deck with a book, and a highlighter, and a Yorkie on my lap. I read slowly—rereading when I realize I’m skimming—setting my book down now and then, when a hummingbird buzzes
The week does not unfold as expected, but it falls in a pleasant way, nonetheless. I spend mornings writing, and after lunch and a chess game, we go out and do something together. One afternoon we pack our camera gear and go on a quest to photograph the Arrowleaf Balsamroot—a bright harbinger of spring in
I spend a silent and solitary day at home: writing, reading, potting flowers, staking tomatoes, and watering plants. But it is that moment when I’m standing barefoot on the grass in the backyard watering the tea garden and breathing in the gentle scent of lilacs that is, perhaps, the sweetest. I drop the hose, walk
It’s here. The spring weather I’ve longed for has arrived like a somewhat-late symphony. It’s settling in, tuning instruments, and preparing to show us something magnificent. I spend an afternoon with my hands in the dirt—the heady aroma, intoxicating, as I top up pots and plant flowers, imagining how they’ll fill in with colour over
We enjoy a light lunch at home after church, and a game of chess. Two games actually. I protest that carrots have distracted me and kept me from concentrating adequately on the game: Maya asking for more, and Gerry chewing on them. I coerce him into a second game and lose that one too. Then
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