It’s a blustery morning. I have things to do in the garden but likely won’t do them today. It’s more likely I’ll catch up on a handful of administrative items in the woman cave, then settle in with a book, the dogs, and another cup of coffee. Maybe I’ll put a few pieces in the
Outside my kitchen window, the surprise brightness of a crescent moon high in the east gives me pause in my morning coffee making routine, and I whisper an involuntary “oh!”. Later, with my hands wrapped around a warm mug, I stand at the living room window and look to the east to see what kind
I carve out time to sit in the park in the shade of a magnificent tree, and look up. I find peace in the strong trunk and branches, in leaves, still in the heat of the afternoon, and the sun’s rays barely peeking through. I watch a man wearing a red shirt climb out of
I have three large flower pots near the front door with dark purple, black, and white petunias and potato vine; two in the back yard and one on the deck with geraniums and pansies; a hanging basket filled with a variety of multi-coloured blooms on the upper deck; two rectangular planters with sweet peas already
We prepare for another day without electricity. Gerry backs the cars out of the garage (the automatic garage door won’t open with no power), I think about what to take out of the refrigerator so we won’t have to open it while it’s off, fill water bottles (yeah, I know we could drink tap water,
The heat mat and lights are tucked away for another year. There are no more plants left in my laundry room. No more toting them outside in the morning and bringing them in at night. Everything’s planted and gardening season is in full swing. We’re anticipating a hot, summer- like weekend (woo hoo!), the second one without
Good morning. It’s Friday. I could do a Friday’s Fave Five post and give you a list of highlights from the week. I could do a Five Minute Friday post, writing for five minutes to a prompt (this week it’s middle). Or I could just write and see where the words take me. I choose
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
Gerry rises and takes Maya outside to tend to some early morning business, and sees it. I’ve been up for a couple of dark hours so couldn’t tell that the tops of the hills were white as if dusted with confectioners sugar, but now I can. I’m delighted as we watch white fall from the sky.
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.
May we find our peace in the peace of the places to which you have called us. Common Prayer, A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals I read these words in a prayer and my sprit whispers yes. May I stop looking for the next best thing and learn to be content in the now. May I