It’s a Good Life

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

Boxing Day

I’ve always enjoyed Boxing Day. It’s quiet and low key—a day of books, jigsaw puzzles, and leftovers. This year Boxing and Christmas Days look much the same, but still there is a sense of exhaling this morning. A hint of reflection and intention with a measure of rumination. There are things to do, but not yet.

Lingering

It’s Friday again—or is it already—and I consider pulling together another Friday’s Fave Five post but can’t muster the effort. It’s been a week. One of those weeks. A week that included a meltdown precipitated by lack of sleep, lack of routine, and no lack of overthinking. Throw in a dash of the news cycle,

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

Stones

I tune in online to watch the summer solstice at Stonehenge. It’s cloudy at Wiltshire, England and there isn’t  much to see. The only sound is the wind. I watch for a while, remembering what it was like when Gerry and I stood on that ground in the cordoned off area looking at the stones,

Watercolour

Gerry and I have been playing chess regularly for over a year. When we first started, I made foolish moves and didn’t think ahead. It was a given that he’d capture my king but I was determined to improve so I persevered. Loss after loss. Angst upon angst. Until, one day, I won! I let

Redeeming the Time

My eyes are drawn to the schoolyard where six teenage boys are shooting hoops. That the sight seems extraordinarily ordinary speaks to the time in which we live. Ahead, the stoplight turns red and the convoy I’m in slows to a stop. I’m grateful because it gives me a few precious extra moments to watch

Monday Mercy

It’s just after four when I stand at the microwave watching the red numbers count down from seventy-seven. The Keurig coughs and spurts out elixir behind me. Oh God, you have brought me in safety to this new day. That thing in my body that’s been causing me trouble still burns, that concern in my