Tuesday, January 31, 2012

goodbye-hello

goodbye january, adieu
hello february, may you please me so
that i rejoice in having you for one extra day

31st

Yet another grey, cold, foggy day.  
I fold January up, pack it away in a drawer
and breathe 

Monday, January 30, 2012

reprieve please

best laid plans have gone scattered. the whole household disrupted by illness. even i, who have somehow maintained my health, feel out of sorts.  i ache for normalcy.

stereotype

As I drink my tea,
the washing machine churns, clean shirts for my menfolk.
A big pot of chicken soup simmers.
On the television they are talking about the Queen. 
I am knitting a tea cosy. 

Friday, January 27, 2012

getting things done

i am a whirlwind of productivity, where this burst of intention is coming from i do not know, but will not question.

sunshine


Today I am grateful for the afternoon sun, even though it is in my eyes as I sip my coffee. 

Thursday, January 26, 2012

perspective

she said sincerely and with best intention  "i am so sorry about the loss of your husband"
the reply:  "i'm so glad the bastard is finally gone"

and another, he was held with contempt when he left his wife for someone else, so many with their hateful words on his character.
one year later, he is married and a father.   she is working late nights hanging out at the liquor store.



Favourite colour

I have to go out on this nasty cold day. I paint red nails and feel better. 

still sick

one week later the word "virus" seems like a joke. surely, the end must be near, but still, no easy remedies.









Wednesday, January 25, 2012

not a cat person


A huge ginger tom sits on my back fence, poised to jump.  He eyes me balefully as I watch from the window, then leaps on to the roof of my mini greenhouse, which collapses.  

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

stepping out

returning to work after four days of sick duty and homekeeping feels like stepping out of the right life into an alternate universe.

Written in frustration after two hours ransacking the house


How is it that I can remember all the words to songs I haven't heard since 1982
and yet I can't remember where I put the gift for my friend who is visiting tomorrow?

Monday, January 23, 2012

a trip to the doctor

i love having a pediatrician that prescribes chicken soup and hot tea with lemon over antibiotics and over the counter medications, but more than that i love having a pediatrician who talks directly to her nine-year old patient then looks over and says, you did good mom.



The Sky is Falling


Measuring her garden for a chicken run, I am concerned about the apple tree overhead. “Oh, they’ll be fine,” she says, “It will keep them on their toes”.  I remember the tale of Chicken Licken. 


Friday, January 20, 2012

feverish

feverish.
there were two calls to be made
one to school, one to work
egg and bread
chicken soup
a movie on video
and perhaps a couple of chapters
of harry potter
tucked up under mama's arm
today i do what i do best.

My first vegetable box

My first vegetable box delivery arrived,
stacked full of lovely organic produce.
I opened the box to find, amongst the familiar items,
strange alien objects I have no idea how to cook.
Artichoke sandwich, anyone? 
Chicory soup?
Chard risotto?


Thursday, January 19, 2012

the man in the organic section

he was a big burly man, with wild messy hair and a football jacket
i was standing there lamenting that my favorite cereal was no longer
anywhere in the multitudes of other breakfast options
he looked at me and implored
"nutritional yeast, why don't they have nutritional yeast
it's different then the regular kind you know"
there was quite a lot of dissatisfaction this day in the organics aisle

but suddenly my irritation left me
i felt like this strange man
who i never would have imagined seeing
coming down the aisle
was meant to bring a smile to my lips

i hope he found his yeast
and i went home and made my own granola

hungry

I think of a deliciously simple lunch.
Salted tomatoes on soft white bread.
A cup of tea.


But the vegetable box isn't here yet.
The fridge is bare
And we have no milk.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

winter chill

toes frozen like something left forgotten in the back of the freezer, hairs standing on their ends at attention, it is time to break out the woolly socks and the fleecy blankets.  winter, it seems has arrived.



cheated

For days I have watched the hyacinths 
Growing inch by inch
Slowly unfurling.
I got up this morning to pretty blue flowers
and no scent. 

  

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

measuring a day's work



instead of the usual work dread, i counted how many times they made me laugh.  a fine way to measure a days work.





blast from the past

A Christmas present from my brother,
I spent this evening  in 1982
with the Kids from Fame.
I still remember the words to all the songs.

Monday, January 16, 2012

From where I stood



























Sunday afternoon 
on our way out to lunch
A hot air balloon.
And for once, serendipity. We were able to stop and park the car.

Up close
I expect I would have heard the roar of the burner,
the voices of the passengers.
But from where I stood
it was beautifully soundless


winter morning

jack frost visited for the first time last night, crystals caught the sunlight this morning. the leaves finally made a crunch under my feet on the back path this morning.  "hurry up", i told the dog "it's cold out here without a fur coat"







Saturday, January 14, 2012

warm apples





the scent of cinnamon and apples rising from the pan this morning, lifted the lid, and invited in a bit of calm and warmth.  simple pleasures.









Friday, January 13, 2012

anticipation


The hyacinth bulbs on the mantelpiece grew two inches overnight, 
speeding their way towards glorious beauty and scent.
I can’t wait. 

Thursday, January 12, 2012

wake up call

6:00 a.m., woke up for once before the alarm, the little lying next to me, soft, sweet and warm. will one day miss waking the girls this way, sneaking up with kisses and smushing hugs and nuzzles and warm love.

January blues


Baubles, tinsel and twinkly little trinkets are finally put away in their boxes for another year.
Right now  it seems that the peace and joy of the season was packed away with them.  


Wednesday, January 11, 2012

goodnight

8:30 p.m, curling into  a soft bed with the rain smattering upon the roof, no laptop, no book, no video to distract me, just the raining rhythm. blissful ten hour sleep; this post will appear to you late, but so worth it.

breakfast on this grey day


Soft hummus and garlicky mushrooms, the crunch of toast and the sweetness of honey in my tea

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

going out

girls night is calling.  less than an hour away.  i will close the door behind me and forget all that lies within.




A shaft of persistent watery sunshine, repeatedly thwarted by grey, apathetic clouds, finally manages to climb over the windowsill and tumbles gratefully into the room 

Monday, January 9, 2012

constant

tiredness weighing heavy on me like a.....
i want to say stone, but it feels more like a boulder. 
will it ever cease?



reader


The promise contained in the muffled thud of a brand new book onto my doormat.  

Friday, January 6, 2012

friday nights



bleary eyed after a grinding ten-hour work day, the sight of her running toward me with a wide grin as I walk in the door at almost 7:00 pm is enough to fuel me for just a few hours longer.





Typical

Lashing rain and howling winds insert themselves endlessly between me and blessed sleep. I surrender and go downstairs to make coffee. As I sit drinking, bleary-eyed, the cacophony ceases.  

Thursday, January 5, 2012

wishing to hibernate

the hippity-hop of that fluffy-bunny feeling in my chest this morning made me want to pull the covers back over my head and burrow back down for the winter.  instead i tucked myself into the comfort of my robe and went out to brush the snow that had settled on my car overnight for the drive down dusted back roads to a day of work.

just one more day, please


The lights on the tree still twinkle as I read on the sofa in the glow of the fire, feet tucked up and glass of Baileys in hand. I am holding on to the last vestiges of festivity and peace until Twelfth Night forces me to stand up, shake off last year, and move on. 

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

the best start to the day


Immersed in warm water, the scent of roses rising with the steam. Cup of tea at my side and book in hand. 
Twenty blissful minutes.

sunrays





sunrays slicing through the clouds like a divine spotlight







Tuesday, January 3, 2012

extremes

Hot chocolate with vanilla, warming my insides as my bare feet freeze on the tiled floor.

lichen



The lichen had multiplied since last I looked.  For a moment, I felt sorry for the tree, as if the lichen, as beautiful as they are, were choking it.  One glance upward told me different.  The tree was dead.  A spoke stuck skyward.  The lichen had taken death and made it beautiful.





Monday, January 2, 2012

bird flight





a great band of birds, flying low over the trees across the field, united in their journey, bound for one destination.  

most days i bless them, today i shared a hope that humankind would follow their lead.





seven years on



This rain is relentless 
 as I stumble over the sodden ground 
to set down the plant I have brought.
Fitting weather for my birthday: it's never the same without you.