TMI

Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information? T.S. Eliot, The Rock I heard these words spoken in a Masterpiece program we watched a few days ago and they stuck with me. Written close to a century ago, they speak clearly to the state of

Surprise

We wake to snow. Just a dusting on the hills and the rooftops, but snow, nonetheless. We were warned by the evening weather forecast so it’s not a complete surprise, and it won’t stick around so there’s nothing to grumble about. It’s amusing, more than anything. I look up at the pale blue sky that’s dotted with

Reaching and Rooting

In my laundry room, in tiny pots fashioned into greenhouses by way of plastic wrap and a heat mat, the first spindly tendrils of tomato plants reach up from the soil. If I were to gently pull one from the soil, I’d find the start of whisper-thin roots. Buds on the lilac bush in our

Another Hopeful Monday

My girls return home, a freak snowstorm blows through, and it’s Monday again—the last one in  March and the start of Holy Week. This morning I’m pondering taxes (ugh) and watercolour and words and books and dogs and the general topsy-turvyness that is 2021. Those, and a week like none other. And, in the midst

Hope

I wake, for the first time in a long time, with a spark of hope in my spirit. Not a lot, but a glimmer, and a sense of new beginning. Spring arrives next week, maybe that’s part of it. Or maybe the time change caused something to shift in a Back-To-The-Future-ish manner. I don’t know,

Enough

I want to spend an hour or so, virtually, in the company of women, playing with watercolour and conversing, but I have things on the go and a little dog who demands my attention so I steal delicious snippets in which I can be present. It has to be enough. I work on a painting where

Choices

I hit “publish” on my previous post and stand up. With an empty coffee mug in one hand and a sleepy Yorkie in the other, I turn toward the window. Then my jaw drops. Literally. “Are you kidding?” I mumble to no one. Fat white feather-like snowflakes are falling. The roofs of the houses in

Tired

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?

Remembering Manderley

Eleven years ago, Gerry and I were in Saskatchewan thinking about buying a farm. It was a crazy dream, one that would have turned our lives upside down but, man, we had fun with that dream. We finally decided that it wasn’t the right thing for us and, as we headed for home, our hearts

Moonlight

I peer out the window over top of the blind in the den and see a cul de sac bathed in light. It’s not the artificial light of streetlights, (They’re off. I’ve never been able to figure out the schedule they operate on.) but the ethereal glow of moonlight. I knew the moon was full

Late Winter

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