Mid-Summer

It’s hot. Kamloops summer hot. Oh, how we love it! I head to the garden early to harvest beautiful tri-colour beans. Back home I wash, snap, blanch, and tuck them in freezer bags. I sit on the deck and read what was once my favourite book (The Velvet Room by Zilpha Keatley Snyder). I lost

Better Work

There’s a dog sitting on my head when I wake. Maya must have been scared by the wind in the night but it’s calm outside our window now. It’s about 4:30 and starting to get light. There’s light cloud cover and not the oppressive gray we’ve been under for days. We haven’t had summer yet—or not

More Watercolour

When I decided to start playing with watercolour I was overwhelmed by choice. Paints, palettes, paper, brushes. I researched and studied and made decisions that were right for me—all the while washing paint on wet paper and being fascinated by the process. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to paint. Loose flowers, more true-to-life botanicals,

Resolve

I wake from a dream in which someone stands in my bedroom doorway, tells me she feels like she’s getting the flu, and then comes and sits in the edge of my bed to chat. My thoughts upon waking go something like this. No. I’m not allowing this pandemic to enter my dreams and steal

Retreat

Oh, hello. Remember me? Just popping in to say good morning. I’ve been on writing retreat this week. It’s been delicious to pull back and focus on the work. I’m getting clarity with Presences of Absences as I continue to weave the tapestry of a story about learning to listen. It’s hard, satisfying work and it makes

The Power of Words—and more rain

And . . . it’s raining. It’s a strange summer that’s unfolding. I spend time organizing my manuscript, my writing paraphernalia, and recipes because I’m setting intentions in the kitchen too. I’m letting the book rest for a few days, anticipating an opportunity for concentrated focus time soon, and the opportunity to putter at home