This morning I feel like whatever I write will be inadequate. To write something cheery seems an insult to those in British Columbia who are already dealing with loss from mudslides and flooding, and insensitive to those in the north who are waiting for a second atmospheric river to hit the province. It would be
A local news source often prefixes its early morning social media posts with “what you need to know”. It gets my back up. I don’t like the news media telling me what I need to know for many reasons, none of which I’ll go into here. Rather, I scroll past and think about what I do need
The smoke is so thick we can’t see the hills on the other side of the valley. After being outside for a while, my head aches and my eyes burn. We take the dogs out for one last sniff around the backyard before bed and I am struck by the brilliance of the sun in
It’s a condiment day: ketchup = catch up. Corny, I know. 🙂 There are a number of things I have to catch up on in the woman cave, in part, because I took the day off yesterday and the week, as a whole, has seemed discombobulated as a result of the holiday Monday. Today I’ll
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 SUNRISE) and write for five minutes about it. Sequestered, as I am at this time of year, under a Sherpa blanket and with a sleeping Yorkie on my lap here in the den with its south-facing
It’s my habit, during the last week of the year, to reflect and set intentions. To make a list of my top ten reads. To choose a word for the coming year. To tidy up files and create new ones. I’ve done some of these things. But mostly I’ve wandered and wondered and tried to put
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.
Now it is November and with the turning of the figurative calendar page comes the temptation to project. What will tomorrow hold? The rest of this month? This year? Anxiety rises with each what if? that bubbles to the surface. Yes, we are heading toward the short and darkest days of the year. Yes, there
I wake from a dream in which I had returned to work in a similar role as one I was once very proficient in. I was, shall we say, less so in the dream and in my early wakefulness ponder what I remember and what’s lost to me about the technical aspect of my former
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.