the awakening of temptation

temptation may

steal away focus,

create internal conflict

shrug off moral reasoning

taste like nectar

leave a bitterness

catch your breath

tantalize thoughts

launch you into thin air

cry for freedom

frighten a grown man

start a new journey

tamper with dignity

strip down integrity

be gloriously sinful

stir a curious woman 
 shower you with shame

heighten your cravings

bait your spirit

harmonize two minds

be the answer to a great mystery

spark a lost soul

generate energy

kick you in the gut

knock you to your knees

create an obsession

fill you with shame

force you to confess
AWAKEN

leave you wanting more.

Temptation entices a wandering passion in need of affirmation with its spicy bravado.   It spins self control on its side, wrapping it in an alluring flame with mesmerizing dreams. It chokes discipline leaving it impotent to that charismatic  serpent and charms you into playing out your unrelenting wishes.  Acting on a tantalizing temptation may alleviate the trembling ache of emptiness or it can fuel the heart with an burning desire for more.  Is the allure ever beyond judgment, or does it always embody sin?   

What tempts you?  Have you decided to acquiesce?  

'tis the winter season of Lent. A time for dark soul reflections, confessions and forgiveness. Lead us not into temptation.........

home....

We are 142 years old today.

Every year there seems to be more and more Canadian patriotic paraphenalia out there in consumer land for our purchasing pleasure most of which makes me laugh...especially the Moose motif stuff. Gotta love our gangly Moose.

My son and I were in the local dollar store the other day to stock up on a few of these items so he can take them to Costa Rica when he attends a CISV village in late December and use them as traders with the other kids who will be there from around the world. We stood in front of the HUGE display which ranged from hilarious hats shaped like leaves to dancing beavers, maple leaf key chains, tatoos, frisbees, squishy footballs, stuffed moose, neck ties (FOR A BUCK!) and were in fits of laughter over the tackiness of the lot. Of course, we were determined to grab the best kitsch we could. Let's hope he's allowed through customs with that Canuck craziness in his suitcase.

When I was a kid, the annual fireworks were lit on Victoria Day in May. This was the tradition. We all saw it as the beginning of summer.....the first long weekend. Of course as members of the Commonwealth, we all understood the seriousness of celebrating Queen Victoria's birthday in style.....er, I guess...... by blowing off little checker firecrackers and running around with abandon holding onto a sparkler, also known as a piece of wire on fire.

Though we still have the long weekend in May, and the Monday of it is still recognized as her birthday (funny how it changes dates every year). But, somewhere along the line, our country's fireworks celebration moved to July 1rst, Dominion Day.....the day we recognize as the anniversary of our national status within the Commonwealth. Maybe we switched because it was easier to make a cake in the form of a maple leaf flag than the head of a sexually inhibited sourpuss? Or maybe we began to embrace our own sense of pride, separate from another country?

Obviously it wasn't an overnight thing.....one day we scoured at any display of patriotism and the next day we adorned our homes in all things red and white? No. It was a gradual, albeit swift turn around. Even now, I would wager a bet that most Canadians feel an attachment to this vast and magnificent wilderness we call home more so when we cross its borders? But there is definately a different feel to our celebration of our "home and native land...." Hence, the desire to don a goofy leaf pointed hat, pull on a Moose motif t-shirt and go with the flow of our known sense of humour while sucking back a few pints and singing off key?

Did you know Canadians are a very funny lot? Absurdity is in our blood. Satire swims all around us. We crack each other up! And it turns out we do a pretty good job exporting our finest comedians. I think it has to do with choosing to remain on this freakingly cold tundra in February and go about our daily routines like it was just a little irritation to start your car when its -40 degrees and a wind chill? You gotta LAUGH! You gotta bundle up too or you will die!

Then of course there is a that wonderful myth created by the late Pierre Berton who stated that you know you're Canadian when you can make love in a canoe. Ask any Canadian if they've accomplished this feat and they will affirmatively reply, with a sly smile and a look in their eye that tells you..... wouldn't you like to know how this is done? Ah, its all in the balancing between the thwarts. Its in the melodic movement of the gunnels....its how you hold your paddle.... Is there any other country who defines their patriotism through such a lens? We crack each other up.

There are definately benchmark events which foisted us forward into a more contented place. It wasn't so long ago when our national past time was a collectively navel gaze..... where the cry of the "True north strong and free" wasn't an anthem we now sing loudly at sports event and instead was "Who are we? How are we different than our neighbours to the south? How do we define ourselves...." Such nervous nellie self absorption is finally disappearing. We have grown up a bit. We've won our fair share of international hockey tournaments. We gave the world Celine and Shania.

Dominion Day. In 1982, the same year the Canadian Constitution and Charter of Rights was signed, Dominion Day was renamed Canada Day. Hindsight makes me wonder if this was the turning point. Before this significant moment, maybe we were allowing someone else to make our beds? Whatever caused us to stop feeling so damn inferior and to care so much about that fact that the rest of the world doesn't really give a rat's ass about our identity, I'm glad. Why? Because what matters most is how we have come to terms about our own selves as multi cultural individuals who call this place home. The confidence felt is new to us. But it will be our growing confidence along with the accumulative stretch marks from eating the most recent national food concoction...."poutine...." (dont ask! it's gross! I'd rather smoke pine needles) that will allow us to shine on any international stage. Or not.

When I was 18 years old, I flew across the pond for the first time with a backpack on my back and a much searched for Canadian flag patch stitched on the outside of it. I had to look high and low for it. For one thing, there were no dollar stores around, and I didn't live in the middle of a tourist hotspot like Niagara Falls where touristy kitchy gift shops were at every corner. It was a different time. Patriotism was kept under wraps. Patriotism was frowned upon as a tacky display of emotional wanking best left to the flag waving country below the 49th parallel. But, I found one, and proudly sewed it onto my backpack. And I'm glad I did. Because every time someone saw that little flag, they would ask me questions about my home....my country, and I would have to think about how I would describe it's beauty, it's strength, it's people......its history.

Like many of my neighbours, we learned our patriotism....and our heart filled fondness for Canada by leaving it's borders and looking from a far. At age 18, I began to see just how lucky I was to proudly state that I am a Canadian. Though, it was said in a tentative whisper compared to my open flag waving loud anthem singing boldness of today. OH, who am I kidding?? I may be wearing my very best moose t-shirt today, and I will definately take part in some of the Canada Day celebrations this afternoon down on the beautiful Green along the Saint John River. Fireworks are in the plans after a big potluck at a friend's house. But, when it's time to sing O Canada? My boldness will quickly evaporate and my silly red pointed leaf hat will be lifted off my head. My heart will fill with gratitude.....and I will lose my way in the meaning of the words. I'm too much of a softie...... and our anthem always leaves me choked up and in tears much to the embarrassment of my family. It's a good thing they're used to it.

This place I call home......? I loveitloveitloveit.....

Happy Canada Day.....with a glowing heart from me

it's true....i guess....

10 truths?? Good Lord! I'm pretty much an open book on this bloggie gabfest, except the deep dark secrets and I ain't sharin' with the world. It's a dilemma I tell you, but my beautiful friend Niki has tagged me to spill 10 juicy bits......lets hope what I come up with isn't too darn redundant.

Ready??


1. A bunch of eeejits told me that boobs shrink if you nurse babies. I am here to say that not only is that complete and utter bullshit, nursing makes them LARGELY SAG! I thank the Good Lord for push up bras.

2. While I'm on the topic.......a couple of years ago, I decided I wanted to go to a tanning salon. I was going to a reunion and wanted to look my best....as best can be.... So, I asked around at the office and it turned out most people had been to a tanning salon. I felt like a freak because i had never been. So, off I went with their blushing blessings. Well, the first time was very very weird. There I was buck naked lying on a heated, lighted bed in the basement of this spa.....knowing NO ONE knew I was there. I hated the big LID too close to my face. it made me claustrophic, which I am on my good days. Anyways....got through it and went back to the office proud of myself! The girls were proud of me, but also warned me to be careful next time..... They told me it was easy to burn my nipples and to place a towel across my breasts to avoid the pain. ok, fine.....

So, I go the next time....WITH music to listen to so I wouldn't freak over the coffin feeling of the tanning bed. I lay down, music on and then go to place the small towel over my breasts to protect those sensitive nips. Well guess what??? No worries there! The damn things were tucked under my armpits! Thank God for sagging breasts from nursing!! I had that going for me.

3. You want to woo me? A big bonfire, guitar strumming and some cheap white plonk......I melt. But, who the hell wants to woo a woman with saggy breasts whose nipples tuck under her armpits?

4. I collect phallic Pez dispensers. Everyone has to have a hobby, right?

5. Stir my brain and you've stirred my soul. In my books, there's nothing finer than a good mind......****

6. I had dinner with the Queen. She slurps her soup. Well, that's not true....but I did have dinner with her Royal Highness. Charming woman. Though I knew better not to touch her or put my arm around her unlike Michelle Obama. God, where did she learn her manners???

7. Absurdity is my best friend. That's why I believe nice guys finish lunch....not last....lunch.

8. If I won the lottery, I would flip the bird at the hand that feeds me, and take the trip of endless possibilities. Along the way, I would stop and pick up a few folks to join me because i don't like to travel alone.

9. My favourite parts of the week are Saturday mornings when I am FREE with no strings, time constraints, responsibilities.... I do as I please.... just me. Part of the morning you will find me at the local market....loveitloveit.... And, Sunday afternoons... I love Sunday afternoons putting in my kitchen and in my home... making dinner, writing, listening to the radio or music.... comtemplating, thinking, creating. I wish the whole week was a compilation of Saturday mornings and Sunday afternoons.

10. hmmmm.......I was invited to go backstage once to meet Kenny Loggins (this of course was before nursing babies and I was still very perky!). I went, and it was quite anti-climatic because he was short and shy and had nothing to say, unlike the time I met and interviewed Harry Chapin...now that completely lived up to my expectations!! He put his arm around me and said.... "Now what can i do for you??" I was left freakin' gobsmacked....!

There you go Niki. Ten truths....after sipping on a bunch of crushed grapes....xx Gotta love plonk....now where's the fire??

big stops and blue canoes

Hey Charles! Your very favourite wishy washy bleeding heart Irving blogger is home! Thought you'd like to know. Full on blogging on this site will begin again tomorrow.........! Who knows which direction I will go cause I sure as heck don't.........political, opinionated, sexual, or touchy feely smarmy...... stay tuned!

ps. It looks like you only have a couple more weeks to knock on my office window for a chat and a cig invite. Then, I will be lodged on the second floor away from the people I love to chat with, AND on the other side of the river away from a bus route. Should I not be set up with a desk in the front foyer so I can be the Irving blogger Walmart greeter????? Wouldn't I be good at that?

Perhaps we could start some lobbying.......pun intended.

destination known.......eh?

We've been on the road for almost two weeks..........jumping in pools, lakes and puddles....... throwing pennies into fountains, making wishes. We've reconnected with friends and family.... sipped wine, ate strawberries, sat around big tables sharing summer meals.

Along the way, we've soaked in the sun, played a few games, sat on a dock, took in a concert on Parliament Hill on Canada Day. Saw a Blue Jays game, did some shopping, paddled in a kayak, took a great ride in a boat. I slipped into a canoe for a very short stint, dangled my feet in Lake Kawagama and watched a beaver swim by. We've seen parts of Ontario we had never ventured through before.........where the small highways break through the Canadian Shield. We sat below the CN Tower that reaches high into the blue sky....... and in my sister's backyard nestled into the Niagara Escarpment......

Cities and country.........the bustle and the calm.........

A long time ago, when we lived in Toronto, we had dinner with friends who now live WAY over on the other side of this country on an island near Vancouver. During that memorable dinner, we started a conversation about Canada........and somehow the term "vast and magnificent" entered into it. It became a running joke. Since then for over 20 years, in Christmas cards and scant letters....and the few times we have managed to connect in person the term is thrown in............

Vast and Magnificent......... it makes me laugh everytime I think of it. But, you know what? It damn well is bloody vast! And, parts of it are truly magnificent.

Today, we all pour back into the travelling salvation show (thank you Mr. Neil Diamond) van and begin the trek across our part of the "vast and magnificent" country...... to home. It's been a good break from all things routine, but it's time to recapture our lives, pick up our dog and unpack new memories. Yes, it's time to get home to see a new sunrise over the Saint John river......magnificent all on its own.

bleeding heart guides.....

Isnt it funny how the most mundane tasks in life come packaged with instructions.....a guide to follow and refer to, and yet the most important things in life have no such thing? The self-help industry tries its very best to compensate, but most books, videos, and yappity CD's you can shove into the system in your car, miss the mark. Sure, they are full of sagely advice, information and deep thoughts, but they dont help with the biggies. They are promoted as the "answer to all your questions...." as "the key to your solutions......." as "the secret to success........" as "everything you needed to know........." so you think they would help with the biggies. But in reality, they don't. Neither does Oprah. Neither does Dr. Phil. Neither do any of the other high-falootin' Steven Covey/Tony Robbins types.

Lots of direction..........maps for life, mentors who guide, big brothers to teach, consultants who confuse, preachers who baffle.........life coaches who do what??? But when it comes down to the game of life, what do you REALLY get out from a guide of some kind besides confusion?

We have become co-dependents to the gurus out there who are making fast cash on our collective lack of self-confidence. And quite frankly, I dont know what came first, the people with the golden eggs of insight, or our inability to figure things out for ourselves. Did this self-help industry chip and strip away at our delicate balances by providing advice and marketing in a way that has made us second guess our own common sense or are we more messed up than previous generations? What did the folks before us rely on to figure it out? THEMSELVES! Don't you find it really strange that the people who have forked out the most moooo-laaaa to purchase the next best answer to their problems are still the most messed in the head?

It begs the question...........Will there ever be a guide to help us overcome our addictions to these self help navel gazing enforcers? Do we really need so much guidance? Whatever happened to simply getting on with it.............living our lives and learning from our mistakes (cause its ok to make mistakes.......perfection is a misguided concept.) and moving on?

Life is complicated because we human beings make it so. Personal growth, learning, loving and interacting is the most difficult tasks we can take on. I guess I am thinking tonight that perhaps we need to learn how to rely on ourselves to make decisions, to think things through, to reflect and pray and reflect some more and most importantly to learn how to love and how to connect with others. And the only way to learn how to do these things is to listen to our hearts.

The answers to the biggies are nestled in our hearts. If we are open to seek out the moments of feeling vulnerable when we are alone and when we are with another person........if we are open to expressing our truth as well as open to hearing it from someone else...........if we are open to understanding that life is a struggle of adding to our personal awareness, then a guide isn't necessary. A set of internal ears, which we all own no matter how closed minded we are, is all that is needed. We are our own guides. We just have to find the lost collective confidence by turning off the TV, by ignoring the yappity CD's, by turning off the talk show "you should do it this way" people and go with your heart.

The heart never lies...........it is there as our eternally internal, guide. And if we did this, think of the extra cash you'd have on hand to buy a bottle of wine and share it with a friend? Yes, a bottle of wine, some good music, a comfy spot in front of the fireplace.........no time constraints..........sounds therapeutic to me. It's too bad we're so busy striving for perfection that we miss out completely that we have the answers within hearts reach.

Sunday scribblings prompt this week is "guides." for more scribblings..check out this site.

Hell Yeah!

It's Friday afternoon and your work week is over. It's been a long stressful, tiring week.........one that has pushed and pulled you all over the emotional map. For some reason, it was your week to be the punching bag for the rest of the world. It feels like you don't have a stitch of energy left and the last thing you want to do is to talk to anyone for fear of overreacting and wanting to bite their head off for just getting in your space. You're zipped, zapped and feeling like a dishrag zombie. The only reply left in your repetoire is fuck off. Even your dragging footsteps seem to carry the sound.............fuck off. Your posture most definately does.......

And, as you make your way to your car, the skies open up and it begins to pour torrents down on you. You can't help but take it personally while you scramble to find the keys in the bottomlessness of your duffle bag........ARRRRRGGGGGHHHH!

Finally, inside the quiet dryness of your car with the rain pelting down splashing the windshield with the same fury as you're feeling inside, you turn on the ignition.

Quickly, a layer of burden slips off you, clearing your head enough to realize just how nasty you're feeling...............and how nasty you've been acting..............and how you want to change gears...........to feel the goodness of a smile. You lean down to the side pocket of the seat and pull out your favourite CD (sorry i-pod folks.....I want a car surround sound feel to this............). And as you're pulling out of the parking lot, turning onto an open street, heading towards a good stretch of road, the familiar wall of sound hits you right where you need it. In fact, it feels like it's cracked open a hardened shell that was encasing your spirit.

All of a sudden, you find yourself belting out a song with as much raw emotion as you can muster, throwing off caution......discarding all dignities................

YOU CAN'T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT!

NO YOU CAN'T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT........

BUT IF YOU TRY SOME TIME,

YOU JUST MIGHT FIND

YOU GET WHAT YOU NEED.......

Fists pounding, fingers drumming, body moving with joyful defiance! An anthem can save even the worst dog breath day!

I had a moment like this the other day.........different scenario than the one i conjured up to begin this piece. But, I was most definately in the foulest of moods, swimming in my own bile. On the way to take my son to his guitar lesson, I popped in a Neil Diamond compilation of oldies and before I knew it (much to the chagrin of my two loving and patient children) I threw myself into the role of backup singer to Mr. Diamond...........quietly singing along at first......

L.A.'s fine, sunshine most of the time

The feeling is laid back

Palm trees grow and the rents are low

But you know I keep thinking about

Making my way back,

But I'm New York City born and raised

But nowadays, I'm lost between two shores

L.A.'s fine, but it ain't home

New York's home but it ain't mine no more.......(then building up to his well known chorus crescendos........before i knew it, I was lost in the glory of an anthem!)

I am, I said

To no one there

And no one heard at all

Not even the chair

I am, I cried

I am, said I

And I am lost,

and I can't even say why

Leavin' me lonely still (you have to hold that last lonely note for poignancy sake......)

By the time we reached our destination, the seratonin factor had kicked in and I was feeling much better thank you very much, and was even ready to carry on a buoyant conversation. So, when the opportunity arose, I asked my friend Jeff to name a song that he can guarantee will lift his spirits and make him sing aloud. Knowing him pretty well, and having had a few conversations about music tastes and a couple of impromptu singsongs with him strumming his guitar, I didn't expect him to answer with Bohemian Rhapsody. YES! My laid back, outdoorsy folk singing, canoe paddling, wine swilling, guitar picking buddy confessed that when he reaches the top of a mountain after a long climb, he stands at the summit and belts out the words to BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY! Mamma mia, mamma mia...........let me go..........

After that wonderful testimonial, we started to make up my evergrowing list.........

Springsteen.....Born to Run, Thunder Road, Glory Days.....

Rolling Stones....Tumbling Dice, Jumpin Jack Flash.......Brown Sugar, and my favourite driving song........Start Me Up.

U2......Where the Streets have no names, Beautiful Day..........(my son Max's contribution to the list? Sunday, Bloody Sunday)

The next day, I sent out an email to a bunch of kooky folks whom I know would share their deep secret good feeling anthem songs with me. They did not fail me........... To date, I have received not only replies, some have even taken the time to SEND me their favourite anthems. My student intern graciously lent me his i-pod to listen to the recent anthem used in the Detroit Arena before the hockey game starts...........great fist pumping the air tune.........Hell, Yeah by Rev Theory. Thank you Nolan for expanding my repetoire and for giving me the title to this post. :)

So, in no particular anthem order (but have had a request to put together a CD compilation named "Open Roads") here are a few goodies shared with me along with a few others that I love.....most you will know, and some may be newbies to seek out..................PLEASE ADD TO THE LIST......WOULD LOVE TO KNOW YOU'RE ANTHEM SECRETS!

1. Only the Good Die Young.......Mr. Billy Joel (future thanksgiving dinner guest at my house)

2. Dude Looks Like a Lady.....Aerosmith (suggested by my ever loving comrade at work, lover of all things Springsteen, and who always has a calming affect on me and lets me yap away during breaks, quietly listening with a smile on his face! I asked him if I could sit in the back seat of his car and watch him belt this one out!)

3. Smells Like Teen Spirt and Come as you Are....Nirvana (thank you David for sending me the second mentioned tune to add colour to my office today)

4. Respect..........Aretha..........of course

5. Domino, Gloria, Let God Shine His Light on Me, Skiffle Sessions and MUCH more from Mr. Van the Man Morrison

6. Suffragette City, Rebel Rebel, Modern Love, Heroes........David Bowie

7. Drive South, John Hiatt

8. 500 Miles.........Proclaimers

9. Tush.........ZZ Top

10. Addicted to Love......Robert Palmer (though this is a difficult one to remain seated behind the wheel of a car because.............well, I just want to jump up and play the air guitar)

11. The original Princess even offered up her favourite, one I'm sure she uses as background music during her pole dancing lessons.........a lovely little number by Blondie.......I Touch Myself. I didn't recognize it, so asked my husband who has a music library stored in his brain.......he sang it to me. What a nice guy, eh?

12. Please Don't Bury Me, Blow up your TV, That's the Way the World Goes Around......John Prine............love John Prine.........a perennial smile on the face for me.

Now, I want to share a couple of tunes with you..........you may have never heard them before. it's a little Maritime flavour, an area known for it's big boozey anthems. This is sung by the late great sadly missed Stan Rogers.........may you find stomping your feet and singing with big fat emotions! Here's the first one.........Barrett's Privateers.

And the next song is especially for Mr. Nice Breadbox.........oh, I can hear you singing it NOW! A film clip of the Northwest Passage.......

Would love to hear your anthem choice..................and if by chance you have a link to the song, drop me an email!

One more link..........to the annual Stanfest in Nova Scotia in July. Paul?!! Check out the list of performers. One of your friends is going to be joining in on some Maritime fun. I don't think I'll be in the Maritimes when he is, but will have to track him down soon!

updates and thoughts........

It's early evening and all is quiet. I'm hoping to hear the sound of a snowblower revving up on the street........one of my many neighbours with that kind of toy who will save me from renting a jackhammer to clear out the end of my driveway. I tried to shovel the stuff after work when I got home, hoping it would've loosened up a bit from the warmish temps today. No such luck. The storm that hit yesterday brought snow, ice pellets and rain which then froze over like cement by morning.

Does this not sound like a little piece of hell?

However, I do have hope. This is a street filled with boys with toys. Charlie, the cigar chomping Hummer driver with a superb francophone accent, AND a pick up truck with a plow on the front of it isn't home from work yet. Normally, on his way past my house, Charlie will get us out of a snowpile jam with his pick up if he happens to be driving that vehicle. He's a little heavy handed and footed with his help and has in the past dug up the side of the driveway in his attempts to be neighbourly....... the last time he helped, he heaved up the snow and blocked off the side door and the whole side of the house with a 10 foot wall of the stuff. But, he means well........ and if he could just plow by tonight, I wouldn't care if I can't use the side door until June.

Perhaps if I made a pathetic swipe with my little Canadian Tire shovel and then had a coughing spasm in the middle of the attempt while standing under the streetlight so the neighbours could see me, then I would be rescued. Its a thought. So is waiting until tomorrow when it's supposed to warm up again............

The problem? If it doesn't get done tomorrow.......... another f****ing storm is arriving on Saturday and I will be DOOMED!!




********************


I'm home alone. While I write this, my daughter is in Florida for March break with her friend, staying with her Grandparents (my Mom and Dad). I just got off the phone with her. They just made a successful trip to Target (a store not seen in these parts.......). I laughed when I heard the Ladies who spend their winters in the Sunshine State, remarked to Martha and Rachel when they arrived poolside in their teeny tiny bikinis and their lily white bodies......... that they better be careful in the sun with their virgin skin. Ah, New Brunswick winters have the magic of turning anyone's skin virgin like again. It's immaculate.

My husband and son are also away...........on a road trip with another father and son combo to Boston! As I write, they are ALL sitting in an IMAX theatre getting blown away by U23D!!!! Their itinerary today? Big breakie at Denny's.......tour of Fenway Park........Aquarium to see sharks........U23D at the Aquarium Imax............dinner somewhere and the piece de resistance? The Toronto Maple Leafs vs. The Boston Bruins.


As much as I would LOVE to be lying on a beach in Florida with my virgin skin, I would LOVE to be tripping it out in Boston today with the boys.



**************


Tonight, I didn't make dinner. It was grand. Instead, I ate a whole bowl of fresh strawberries and washed it down with a glass of wine. I positioned myself in the big comfy chair by the window in the living room that overlooks the river..............facing west. I tried to ignore that fact that the river is frozen over and covered in snow cement. Instead, I thought about how LOTS of snow is a good thing for strawberry fields, and raspberry bushes. I wondered if it would help protect the blueberry hills........and if it would hinder the maple sap running this month...... I realized how it may be a good thing for my perrenials all dormant and desperate to seek sun again.

And while I enjoyed my strawberries despite the distance they had to travel to reach me at this time of year, I caught sight of the dancing light on the rooftops on the other side of the river....I watched the sun slide behind the hills leaving wisps of pale orange....... I stared at the naked branches of the huge oak trees in my neighbours backyard, enjoying the silouette strength they exhibit at twilight, remembering just how gorgeous they were in their autumn glory and thinking how beautiful they will be when they bud in newness.



This winter has been drudgery.........no doubt about it. And, it's definately not over. As much as I would like to escape it right now....... I wouldn't trade my home for another place to live. Why? Because, there is nothing like seeing and feeling and INHALING the first true signs of spring after a long hibernation when you live in Canada. There is a sense of thanksgiving, hope and accomplishment all mixed together on the first day I find myself mucking about in my garden. I do love living where there are 4 distinct seasons. I guess if one could eliminate the month of March, then real true spring wouldn't be so exquisitely sweet.


The game is on TV.........hockey in March is never a good time for the Maple Leafs but maybe my two men will bring them some luck tonight. At the end of the first period? It's tied one all. This game has been on the calendar since Christmas morning when the tickets were presented to Max.........I hope it's a barn burner for his excited pleasure.

love stories........

This afternoon, I was home early due to the unrelenting snowstorms we are having this winter and was listening to Jian Ghomeshi's show "Q" on the CBC radio. They had a little write-in contest happening..... a challenge to write a love story in 6 words. A few were read aloud, and I was so surprised at how one could offer up a whole love story picture in 6 little words. Here's a link to Q's Blog and comment section......LOTS of hilarious entries.

As I putted around the kitchen making dinner, I began jotting down a few and decided for Valentine's Day, I would post a couple..........

His eyes told her she's desired.

yearning
hoping
longing
for a second chance







Breakfast in bed with whipped cream





Sunday papers
Hot coffee
Sharing silence






End of the day reflection sharing





Sipping Cointreau, looking over at her.

The stories came tripping out of me.....faster than I could jot them down. What FuN!

Duvet diving
cold feet
warm love





Afternoon delight at No Tell Motel.





Naked honesty accepting our beautiful imperfections.

NOW ALL OF YOU OUT THERE...including lurkers who don't normally leave comments...I would love to read your attempts!! Will you leave me a 6 word love story??? C'mon...... it's easier than you think. Let your imagination go for a short ride.

Candlelight slow dance, a world away.





Love's packaged in spicy cinnamon hearts.





I'm still here waiting for you.





Happy Valentines Day. Love to you.




I am here. where are you?

i don't have a clue.

Is our soul the last real frontier? Is it our own endless constellation, where vitality is the eternal binding of our essence? Is soul the keeper of paradoxical emotions, where lamented sorrow mixes into a harmonious hymn of broken need?

I wonder.

Is a soul ever visible to the naked eye, or can it only be felt by the naked vulnerability of an open heart? Is this where mystery of the reason for being dwells as an apparition only to be revealed after death? Do we receive clues to the mystery while we wander through our personal journey of life?

I wonder.

Does a soul chant during the moments of solitude captured after sitting with loneliness or does it wail? Does it sound like the winter wind or a summer breeze? Does the soul knock loudly when disharmony of thought and action is felt or when a deep stirring of love fills one with electricity?

I wonder.

Does it sound like Tom Waits in a whiskey soaked bar or Pavorotti on the steps of the cathedral? What about Springsteen or Bono or Morrison standing in the spotlight in a concert hall? Or perhaps the soul sings like Nora Jones at sunrise, sunrise....or a Mozart symphony or a solo violinist......

I wonder.

I do wonder. Do you wonder about it too or am I the only nut in the box of chocolates?

capturing light.

Silent night

Holy night

All is calm

All is bright.

I'm sitting in my livingroom in front of the fireplace. I can't imagine living in a home without a fireplace. Not one of those fancy natural gas ones.........it has to be a real fireplace full of hot embers and mesmerizing flames which dance differently every time you put another log on. The crackles and smokey scents are as inviting as my Dad's cologne. Every now and then a small wind gust blows down the chimney to feed the flames......a whoosh fanning sound tells me so. When I was a teenager living at home, every now and then in the middle of winter, I would cozy up to the fireplace at night with a pillow and a blanket and fall asleep in glowing comfort.



Beside the fireplace stands a tall majestic tree that touches the ceiling. I don't know how I managed it, but I think I found THE perfect tree this year. Sorry folks, I got it. For some reason the colour of the ornaments are predominatly red and white........a Canadian tree it is, it is. Even the parcels under the tree managed to be wrapped in red and green and white. It wasn't a planned thing..........kind of spooky like I channeled Martha Stewart and didn't know it. What's really bizarre is that the parcels sent by bus from my sisters and parents are wrapped in matching paper!! It's a gene thing I think.



There really is no theme to it except that it represents 20 years of my husband and I creating our own family. Several of the ornaments were given to us at a party our friends had just before our wedding day which happened to fall between Christmas and New Year's. The tree skirt was made by hand by a friend named Grace whom I havent seen in a long time. At the top of the tree are two shiny old fashioned ornaments with my name painted on one and Jamie's name painted on the other. (Bonnie are you reading this? You gave them to me. :) Through the years, we have accumulated other homemade treasures......embroidered ones from my Grandmother, handpainted scallop shells Martha and I made when she was little, others made by little hands when they were at daycare......angels and snowmen.........candy canes and snowflakes, garlands of wooden beads, shiny stained glass, reflecting light, capturing light, and a few bells to ring when an angel gets her wings.



All are meaningful to us. All packaged in a remember when........



My favourite ornament is the oldest. I purchased it in the turkish bazaar in Istanbul before I was married. They are tiny knitted mittens on a string that cost me all of 50 cents. But they hold such wonderful memories. funny eh? It's never anything really expensive and flashy that touches us. It's the little ordinary looking trinket that holds the key to our heart treasure box.



The lights are on. tiny multi-coloured lights. They too are mesmerizing, but won't really glimmer like they can until Christmas Eve. That's when a tree looks the most magical......when it really feels like Christmas.



For some reason it seemed to take me a lot longer to get my act together with the decorating etc. Part of the reason is that I have purposefully continued to focus on my writing, which most definately etches into my time. But, other variables seem to be wreaking havoc with my usually good organizational abilities. Time seems to have a mind of it's own these days. Jamie and I were talking about it this morning as I drove him to work..........both of us are dumbfounded really that we find ourselves on the precipice of our 20th wedding anniversary in two weeks. How in the heck did this happen? Sure there are periods when you wish the clock would move faster because it feels like it has stopped completely (Christmas Eve day is an example of this according to my son). But, most days it's over before we even acknowledge that it has begun.

Silent Night

Holy Night

All is calm

All is bright.

We live in such a fast paced world. We multi-task, juggle, think ahead of ourselves. We plan and plod and prepare and push ahead. We rush, rage, run, and sometimes wipe out because we're going too fast. And before you know it...................all you see is a blur of colour all smearing across a painted sky............the lights begin to blend in like one of those timed photos. We need to jump off the bus regularly to catch ourselves from free falling. We need to gaze backwards on the day that has happened...........to recognize the blessings and encounters (the rest really doesn't matter does it?).........to reflect on a day which will never be captured again.



We need to learn to sit quietly and enjoy our own inner voice nestled in the spirit.



I look into the fire and watch the flames dance for me. I listen to the whooshing fan noise, the tiny crackles and feel the warmth of it's energy on my face. I look at my beautiful tree which sings nostalgia and hums a familiar song of belonging. I hear my dog snoring lightly right behind me..... I hear my husband quietly reading a story to our son down the hall. I think of my daughter wearing a new dress which makes her spin around whenever she tried it on to show us. She's at her first Christmas formal at the high school, and I hope it's living up to her excited expectations.



I also reflect on my time spent with my friend who joined me for lunch today......a wonderful treat where we didn't look at the clock. We just leisurely sipped on a glass of wine and let the conversation flow, comfortably sitting in this living room with the fire blazing. It's been entertaining me on and off all day. And because we didn't feel the pressure of all the preparations and forthcoming busy family time and all that, we found ourselves talking about God and wondered out loud if He was one of us.



Trying to make his way home.....................



It's been a good day.

Sleep in heavenly peace

Sleep in heavenly peace.

we drank a toast to innocence

dana and pia sharing spirits,

watching the sunset on the beach in Victoria

circa 1982.

What I'll give you since you asked is all my time together
Take the rugged sunny days, the warm and rocky weather
Take the roads that I have walked along,
looking for tomorrow's time
Peace of mind
As your life spills into mine, changing with the seasons
Filling up the world with time, changing time to reasons
I can show you all the songs that I never sang to someone before
We have seen a zillion stars lying by the water
You have climbed the hills with me to the mountain shelter
Taking off the days one by one, setting them to breathe in the sun
Take the lilies and the lace from the days of childhood
All the willow winding paths leading up and outward
This is what I give, this is what I ask you for
Nothing more
Since You Asked, Dan Fogelberg (1951-2007)

It was the season in between adolescence and adulthood........the time of crossroad solstice where you can turn around and still touch campus life, final exams just a breath away. Ahead is perceived responsiblity fraught with unknown seriousness. Ahead you see brass ring opportunities, ideals that turn real............changes you will be a part of. The future is within reach...........almost........

But only after you spend some time floating and bobbing and enjoying without making any big decisions. Many people never have a chance to experience this particular transitional season. This is a luxury to take a breather from the intensity of studies, from the omnipresent looming career path. I was one of the lucky ones. Well, that's how I see it now.

Then? Well, I was getting over severe heartbreak as well as trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do with my life since it had just taken such an abrupt turn. I was definately at a crossroads, having finished my undergraduate degree, deciding to take a break before entering graduate studies. At the time, it seemed like I was bobbing............in a boat without oars.

When the chance to spend the summer on Vancouver Island poked it's head at me, I seized it with both hands like a lifesaver. I needed fresh air, a new setting, a completely different boulevard of dreams in order to restore, repair, re-energize my whole self. I needed to run away, to stand in the summer solstice to find my own stillness again. My season in between adolescence and adulthood.....well the first part of it........was spent in a house in Victoria B.C. with 4 other females and another free bird who would join us in between tree planting expeditions and sleep in our backyard naked. Sometimes she put her clothes on for breakfast.

Anyways.......there I was, healing and soaking in some downtime, working a summer job running a day camp program, learning, growing, dating, drinking, carousing, sailing, laughing, camping, tanning and getting to know one particular friend named Pia.

From the moment we met......we hit it off, even though we were complete opposites.....extroverted English me, introverted Swedish Pia..........where we met were our interests, our love of the outdoors, our penchant for spontaneous outings, and our love of music. During this season of my life, it was Pia who introduced me to Dan Fogelberg...........I fell in love with life again listening to "Twin Sons of Different Mothers" while travelling along the ruggedly beautiful west coast of Vancouver Island with Pia in her little red volkswagen. Windows down...........seasalt breezes accompanied by the stirring instrumental harmony of Fogelberg and Weisberg......new friends feeling, tasting, inhaling freedom together.

I listened to the music today while at work after I heard that Dan Fogelberg passed away at the young age of 56, vividly remembering the very first time Pia popped the cassette into her car stereo.......quietly and tearfully mourning the man whose music was the soundtrack of my season in between. I also wondered where Pia is travelling these days.............our paths never crossed again after that summer of sharing........me pulling her into boisterous life, and she coaching back into calm stillness. I have this strong feeling that she was thinking of me today too............somewhere out there in this biggish smallish world.

Pia? You out there?? Let's drink a toast to innocence........

My Vauxhaul I bought for 100 dollars. She was the same age at me. 21 years old. At the end of that summer, I sold her for 200 dollars and put the earnings towards a plane ticket home.

The prompt this week for Writer's Island was "the season......." For more seasonal seasoned seasonings, click right here.

stop, think, feel and listen........do i have the time?

I seem to be in start and stall mode right now. I start writing a piece and then it either seems too darn depressing unintentionally, or too fluffy. I can't seem to find the middle ground. And I wonder why. I think part of the reason is that I am juggling many tennis balls right now, and the activities or projects are compartmentalized in order to manage and sort them....in order to prioritize. Consequently, my thinking is the same. It's like I have a short term narrow view and if I go beyond those borders, I find my thoughts and feelings are just too broad to explore within the timeframe I have to offer.

And yet........... I have many stories in my head simmering. They want to be told. They all want my time and attention. But I only have time for snippets. I only have time for quick glances when really they require more than that. So, I stall...........halfway through a story and I'm left wondering if I can bite off more than I have time for.

Reflections take time. Reflections are open ended journeys which have a life of their own because one never knows how connected they are to the iceberg of thoughts and feelings down below the surface of the original thought. One story, one encounter, one experience, one activity in a day of many of all of those..............leads to a myriad of others. Our lives aren't compartmentalized. Our lives are strands of interwoven threads which link and knot and connect and blend together to form our own fabric. You start pulling on one of those threads and you never know where that will lead you. I guess I'm feeling like I don't have time to pull the various threads all vying for my attention.


And yet............


Writing offers me a venue to empty my personal cup of life which by the end of a week is full, full, full of deep red wine. When I write, it's like I am dipping a piece of bread into the wine to soak up it's flavourful body. The cup becomes lighter, easier to manage as I dip and sip and stop to reflect on who and what helped fill it............to reflect on how it makes me feel, on why it makes me feel.............to reflect on the feelings and activities of people I brushed up against this week. If I don't, the wine spills over and stains the threads......turns them into a different pattern, or perhaps hides the real lessons found in the pattern. If I don't take the time to dip the bread, I may miss out on assessing the meaning and significance.......the impact the interactions have had on how I think and feel.


Reflection is a key part of counselling as well as in living a more aware life. It's a pertinent part of the debriefing process so that one encounter doesn't blend into another........so someone else's hurt doesn't leave me bruised and myopically observant of the next person I meet with. When I don't take the time to sip the wine and eat the bread, I feel replenished. I will only feel weighted down with heavy full cups that will spill too easy.

Luckily the process of reflecting can happen during any other activity too. It doesn't need written words. It needs acknowledgement. It needs breathing space. The pattern of the threads can be touched and reviewed while sipping from the cup, while doing other tasks. Reflections can accompany other activities..........housecleaning, errand running, dog walking, dish washing, grocery shopping......all the "must do's" .......... Though it's best when one can sit down with another person keen to do the same for an open ended evening of unrushed unravelling. But we can't have that optimum all the time. Life is too busy most days. Still, it's not something one can ignore.


The stories and the written words may have to wait for another time, but the reflections can't wait. Today I will go about my busy schedule all the while looking back on the week, reliving the feelings, and sorting it out. If I happen to have a faraway eyes in aisle 10 at the grocery store, you'll now know why. And for goodness sake, don't be jumping out in front of me.....I startle easily when I'm multi-tasking in my head.

So..................

I'm off to the market. Saturday at the market is where the reflections begin for me. I always feel replenished after my meanders and chats at the market. I always have time for that.

May we always have wine to gladden our hearts and to share in communion with our friends.

For you Shasta Daisy .... a toast to a vintage year harvest.