Finding fresh ways to write timeless truth.
It feels like Friday, but it’s Wednesday (I almost said Tuesday. That’s how out of sync I feel.) I finished reading another good book last night (Cilka’s Journey by Heather Morris) and now I’m on the prowl for my next read.) The more I stay at home, the less desire I have to go out.
I’m joining in with a group of writers for Five Minute Friday where we’re given a prompt (this week it’s POSSIBILE) and write for five minutes about it. We did it. We survived something we never dreamed possible: lived through a year like none other in our lifetime, one fraught with deep potholes and crazy
Man, I am tired. Weary, yes, of the din of news cycles and media of all kinds, but the weary in my mind has morphed into something physical. I wake unrefreshed after a full night’s sleep. My body aches with pain I struggle to identify. It’s there, but where? Everywhere? Nowhere? What kind of pain?
We think about taking the dogs for a walk in the sunshine after lunch but the wind kicks up again. Instead, we leave the pups at home and go for a drive. We stop by the community garden for the first time this year and see nothing reaching through the straw covered area where we
It’s noticeable. Dawn comes earlier and dusk, later. We’re on the other side of the recent cold snap , tiptoeing ever closer to spring. There’s still a ways to go, and spring fever hasn’t kicked in yet, but there’s a sense of coming through that’s undeniable. Meanwhile, we’re still jigsaw-ing and enjoying multiple daily chess
The cold snap eases its grip slightly, begrudgingly, giving in to the inevitability of change. If we hadn’t rocked over our front flower bed last year, I imagine I would have seen the green of brave crocuses by now. They would have been covered by snow, and uncovered again, and I’d marvel at their tenacity
It’s dark when I stand in the kitchen wait for coffee to pour from the Keurig and stretch. My eyes wander and light on a little plaque above the window. God bless our home, it says. God bless our home where we are sequestered safe, so they tell us, from a virus named COVID. God
Toss a polar vortex in the middle of pandemic restrictions and you’ve got a string of pretty slow stay-at-home days. And yet I’m juggling a full-ish plate. The paradox is dizzying. Anyway, it’s time for another edition of Friday’s Fave Five and a look back at the week that was. New art supplies. I’m taking
These days I go slow and give myself permission to put balls down. Juggling was never my forte anyway. I’m still jigsaw puzzling, leaning in to the therapy of hours spent putting pieces in place and making something from the chaos of random shapes and colours. I do my best to listen, even when I struggle
I dream I’m in an airport I’ve been in countless times between flights on my way home. It’s odd, for a number of reasons. I don’t have a ticket, for one thing. I know there are hours before the flight so I’m just reading in one of the lounges. The thought occurs that I’d be
Once upon a time, not so very long ago (though it seems like a lifetime has passed), it was a simple thing to drive down the hill from the neighbourhood where we live, turn into the strip mall, pick up a few sundries from the pharmacy, and stop in at the grocery store for a couple