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Saturday, May 11, 2019

Anthropomorphizing

Anthropomorphizing

I went over every square inch of the lawn. Every blade of grass that had even an interesting sniff of something or someone. Traffic was non-existent on this street so busy during the day, so I had no distractions. The wind had gone to sleep. Scattered stars shone, only the most distant ones dimmed by the street lights. Unnecessary, but acceptable, I was not disturbed by them. I did try to keep into shadow. I lifted my head. A sound not unlike one of my neighbours when it clears its throat, but much softer. I resumed my search for the secret prize only I know as soon as I find it. Moving from grass to the tiny ditch separating the grass from a flower bed, I continued my search slowly and carefully, but only for a few feet. Back on the grass, much softer on the pads of my feet, the dew cold and wet, I stopped. Lifted my head higher this time. There was someone there! It seemed a ghost. A very large ghost. White against the blackened window. What voyeur dares to come even close to my yard? It has been standing there for quite awhile, sure that I haven’t seen it. But I’m paying attention. I’ll stare at it until it moves again. Phew! It’s backing off. I can hear the scraping of a door sliding open. It’s gone through the black window but I’ll keep watching until I’m certain that the ghost has vanished back to where it came from.

“Sometimes, staying alive solely depends on 
keeping your head in place and your senses alert.”
~ Susana Fortes

Friday, May 10, 2019

Quality Work

Difficult to get a good picture of the webs!
Yesterday began as usual for late spring in Victoria. Warm, sunny with morning traffic sliding past my home. A squirrel chasing through my patio to check my container pots for any stray delicious something. No deer have been by for a couple of days. Have they found a tastier garden? In the afternoon, everything slowed down because of the temperature climbing steadily. For me, it felt welcome and good. Not everyone, especially native born Victorians, enjoys or revels in such temperature increases.

Today began as usual as well. Memories of yesterday’s shirt sleeve and sandals weather, moved me out on the patio for breakfast. I was vigilant about any bit of wild life that may spy my breakfast while my back was turned. Now that breakfast has been eaten, with no threats even from bees or wasps, I am tap-tapping away on my laptop. As I write this bit of trivia, ‘my’ squirrel has tiptoed via the ‘long route’ past my patio and slipped quietly through the trimmed hedge in front of my patio. I barely caught a glimpse of him as he ~ or she ~ exited away from my bold fearsomeness. Spiders have been busy out here and have strung their beautiful webbing around and through my garden trellis. Sunlight dances from their delicate work when any slight breeze is set adrift through my little corner of the world. Spider webs are not as protective of my young plants as the plastic netting at the bottom of the trellis, but much more beautiful. Maybe deer don’t like getting their noses caught on spider webs? One can always hope.

“The difference between utility and utility plus beauty is 
the difference between telephone wires and the spider web.”
~ Edwin Way Teale

Thursday, May 9, 2019

On Tiptoe

To continue picking up the ball where I left off, I am at the T in QUALITY

Tip-toeing through the tulips…….
That’s almost too easy but it slipped out of my fingers, so here’s a little history lesson. Tiny Tim sang this song in his strange, and some would say spooky, falsetto in 1968. According to Wikipedia, this old chestnut was written in 1929, by Al Dubin and Joe Burke. Since then it was been sung, in 1929, by Nick Lucas who introduced it in the musical ‘talkie’ film Gold Diggers of Broadway. This quirky, romantic song was used in the first Looney Tunes cartoon short, Sinkin’ In The Bathtub in 1930, again in 1945 in the opening scene of the film Confidential Agent. Tiptoe Through the Tulips was revived in 1967 by the California rock group The Humane Society. Since then, it seems to have almost disappeared from the stage and screen. But then I am not much of an aficionado of the stage or screen. It has, however, led me to wonder how much tiptoeing there is in this life. Just a few samples ~

Tiptoeing……..
~ downstairs on Christmas morning.
~ through old photos and diaries, ‘cause you definitely can’t do that quickly.
~ through grasses, trees or on the patio to see how close you can get to a squirrel or deer.
~ through and past fearful times when running away is not an option.
~ up on your little brother just for shock value and to see the look on his face.
~ past the oven that’s baking a cake so it doesn’t fall in the middle.

We take leaps, walks, runs and a lot of tiptoeing in this life but really tiptoeing through the tulips  ~ or anything beautiful ~ is the best.

“Through the blackest night, morning gently tiptoes, feeling its way to dawn.”
~ Robert Breault

Wednesday, May 8, 2019

Rollin’, Rollin’, Rollin’!


Integrity shines except 
when I drop the ball letting it
roll through sunshine and artworks then on to celebrate a life well lived, until it abruptly stopped today with no ideas swirling up from the murky depths of my imagination.

Only then did I realize that I had simply tossed the colourful ball away until this morning when I went looking
to my magical muse for inspiration:  Simply pick up where I left off!


“Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of our own mind.”
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson


Tuesday, May 7, 2019

Memorial for Lynne Margaret Dressler (nee Conley) June 8, 1947 to April 30, 2019

Photo taken September 2013 at
RGH Alumnae gathering
Regina, Saskatchewan

Welcoming, humble and kindly curious ~ smiles and a big laugh. 
Loved to chat and 
visit ~ a graduate with the Class of 1968 RGH School of Nursing. 
seemingly ordinary, but too ruffled, life, she is troubled no more with worries hidden behind her broad smile. 
Dedicated to nursing and family beyond retirement and time.



“Our job as Nurses is to cushion the sorrow and celebrate
 the job, everyday, while we are “just doing our jobs.”
~ Christine Belle, RN, BSN




Monday, May 6, 2019

Walking Inspiration

What a lovely day for Fairfield Artist Studio Tour! I set out with a light jacket on, hoping I wouldn’t be too cool as I went. Along the way there were beautiful gardens and many friendly hello’s. Ushered into homes and cosy backyard studios to view the many forms of art, I was welcomed smiles and information about each artist’s work. There were places where there were too many for the one artist to say much more than ‘Welcome’ so I listened to the question that was being answered. Beautiful and quirky paintings, delicate hand work in cotton fabric and fine string, fine sculptures, gift cards, puzzles and jewelry from up-cycled items. Then, there was a clean and shiny work shop full of fun. Other worldly ‘sculptures’ from old kitchen equipment and tools to the nuts and bolts holding them all together in imaginative cars and robots. I must admit my ‘Inner Critic’ was
having a field day telling me that I just might as well give up on any creativity of my own. But I just dismissed this as completely irrelevant and took in the ideas that came to me as I went. Having only gone out in the afternoon of the second day, I was only able to view about eight of the Artist’s Studios. I took my light jacket off when I realized I was really uncomfortable warm! Tired, hot and thirsty, I took a bus for the last 10 blocks home. It was a very inspiring afternoon. 


“Through the years, I have learned there is no harm in charging 
oneself up with delusions between moments of valid inspiration.”
~ Steve Martin, Born Standing Up: A Comic’s Life

Sunday, May 5, 2019

Ten Minute Sprint - A Writing Exercise

Listening to each other tell the stories that we weave is always a delight. We meet on the first Friday of the month from September through June. We usually assign, to each other, the same topic to write about and bring to the group. Following the incredible and very creative variety of readings (aloud), our host provides us with another exercise. Always timed and seldom the same topic, we are each caught by surprise and our muse has to hurry up and get our pens moving. This Friday, we drew slips of paper from a beautiful blue and white ceramic bowl containing slips of paper with the stem of a sentence or a sentence to write about. Groans went simultaneously through the room. My challenging sentence was: “You’ll wish you never asked me that.” There was nothing. I was blank. So, I just started my pen moving, the strategy for each of us. We were only given about two minutes before the timer said: ‘Go!’ 

Untitled Dialogue (unedited)

“You’ll wish you never asked me that.”

“Why.”

“Because I’ll have to say no. Not a tiny 'no', but a very large and emphatic ‘No.’”

“Why?”

“Because I said so and I’m your mom.”

“But you’re not the only boss of me. I’ll wait til dad comes home.”

“You won’t be up that late, honey. You’ve got school tomorrow and Dad won’t be home until midnight. You’ll be asleep by then.”

Stamping my feet and slamming out the back door, I knew she was right. But I was really, really mad. I couldn’t see why I couldn’t go to the Game of thrones movies. My mom throat they were too violent. I’ll show her violence. I kicked the basketball all across the years and then punched the top of the trampoline. When I did that I just didn’t fee any better at all so I sat down and with my fist under my chin, I cried. Maybe I didn’t even want to go to those movies anyway. Dad would never give me enough money for a movie and popcorn and coke and candy. So there really wasn’t much point. Just then my old dog came over to me and licked my face all over, making me laugh. We lay down on the grass together and watched shooting stars and a crescent moon, Maybe mom would make me some popcorn.”

“Start writing, no matter what. The water 
does not flow until the faucet is turned on.” 
~ Louis L'Amour


p.s. A pretty lame ending but time was running out. An old dog and a nighttime sky just appeared out of nowhere.