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. 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).
Makiya is off to school, Gerry just left for a hike, the pups are snoozing and I'm finally taking some time to write this post. The first week of school comes to an end today and we're all settling into new routines. It's been a good week—a different week—but one rich with good things. Time
I wrote a Friday’s Fave Five post yesterday and accidentally deleted the whole thing before publishing. I considered rewriting it, but decided to move on instead. So, here we are starting fresh on what promises to be a busy Saturday morning. I canned the last of the beets from my garden yesterday. Gerry’s going to head
I baked bread yesterday, and served it fresh from the oven with homemade soup. ”This is one of my favourite suppers,” Gerry said. ”Mine too,” responded Makiya, munching on another piece of bread she snitched from my plate after asking with a cheeky grin if I was going to eat it. That was the richest
It’s Sunday. We have turned our clocks back and are in the dark months. A few days ago we were out early—leaving home at 6:30 am—for an appointment and I remarked how the quiet streets reminded me of my morning commute when I was still working. Gerry reminded me of what I used to say
Time has seemed to run in fits and starts this week as Gerry and I have been busy making plans and decisions and getting things done. As I sit here early on Friday morning and cast my mind back over the week that was, it is a blur. Trusting that as I put some thought
The sprinklers have been blown out. Lawn furniture, outdoor mats, and flower pots all stowed for the winter. The garden is cleaned out and garlic is planted. Now we wait. One morning, there’s a dusting of white on the hills down the east valley. I pull on long pants instead of Capris, socks and shoes
Well, we slogged our way through another week (That’s how if feels. Just keeping it real.). Friday arrives fat with promise and intention to spend a day puttering at home. Seems like another good opportunity to look back at the week that was, because despite the weight that feels so heavy it was rich with
As I’ve been pondering blogging, what it once was, and what I imagine it returning to now, I remembered The Simple Woman’s Daybook. Months ago, when I was really struggling, I began listing things in my journal that I saw, smelled, tasted, heard, and felt as a grounding practice. It sounds simple, but it helped.
A woman, with an awkward gait that makes me think every step she takes is wrought with pain, carries a long rectangular canvas bag across the grass. She stops when she gets to the edge, wrestles a contraption our of the bag, and transforms it into a chair which she turns away from the park