Movie Review - Bruce Almighty ~ directed by Tom Shadyac

A GODly image?

I’ve become best friends with my mop?

Disliking housework 

since knee-high to a grasshopper!

Avoiding housework, 

willing to pay the cost of being chastised.

But one special character in this 

friendly, funny movie had an interesting impact.

Not the star ~ but the co-star

made in God’s image

both on earth and in the movie.

His portrayal 

real and right now.

With mop in hand,

he just cleaned the floor and made things bright.

Easy and slow.

Just being the miracle

with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his brow.

If that’s all housework is ~

I can do that!

p.s. The movie? ~  
Bruce Almighty with Jim Carrey and Morgan Freeman

Confession time (August 2012):

Doing the dishes I am good at.

Keeping things tidy - not too bad

Dusting and mopping - well, I still need a bit of work!

“Housework is work directly opposed to

the possibility of human self-actualization.”

~   Ann Oakley

A Wonderful Ending......

A 'Donkey Hug' at the Farm

An ordinary day with a wonderful ending. 

Calm weather, so welcome, is hot today, clear skies and wind just enough.

Home to my house and my garden,

I browsed through the fridge for something to eat.

Then - aha! - I can go to a barbeque gathering tonight

at Beacon Hill Children’s Farm.

Annually all the volunteers are celebrated 

with a barbeque at the Farm 

for all that they do throughout the year.

There are so many jobs in a farmyard

caring for chickens, ducks and pigs,

llamas, bunnies and hamsters,

and the energetic, bouncing goats!  
These stars of the Farm yard stampede through the main Farm lane each morning and each night, racing for breakfast or for bed.

Who makes up the volunteers crews for the Farm?

Little ones with parents in tow

Teens, adults, and seniors

Residents of group homes throughout the city

All come to the Farm to share in the joy of animal care.

The result?

The same variety of people from our city,

our province and all the other provinces,

visitors to our city from many different lands

summer day camps of toddlers in bright coloured vests,

the well and infirm, whether walking or by wheelchair,

are able to enjoy the miracle of animal life 

in this amazing farm setting between the ocean and city.

And when I came to Victoria, 

I became an honoured ‘pooper scooper’ with the goats

I have sat at the front counter to welcome our guests.

It was a piece of a farm life that I missed desperately.

So the wonderful finish to my day is being part of 

a celebration of kindness and good works.

A personal thank you goes out to everyone 

at Beacon Hill Children's Farm for 

your great care of all these lovely animals!

“Unselfish and noble actions are the most

radiant pages in the biography of souls.”

~ David Thomas

Where are My Roots?

The things that we

can see and touch

have lived and worked with

have played and slept with

erode with time and life events.

We carry the memories that they hold within them

as we spread ourselves to the four winds

Where are my roots?

They are 

in a wide prairie grain field,

in the hands and hearts that worked the soil.

They are 

in my childhood home

and the hands and hearts that grew my family.

Roots grow downwards and crawl sideways 

traveling with the moisture,

looking for the light.

Plants grow up through soil

soft and friable or

hard baked and cracked

but they will grow.

We each are part of the great roots that we seek

In the shade of my past, I dig up my roots.

In the sun of the present 

I see them more clearly as perspiration 

drips down my forehead 

runs down my face.

The future lingers in

the glare of the sun

or the deep darkness of a moonless night.

Fate and circumstance define 

the existence of my roots with

each child that is born,

each life that grows strong

with each family story that is shared.

"I will continue my path, but I will keep a memory always."

~ Rosie Thomas, Iris and Ruby

The Call of the Garden

I’ve run out of steam

on this hot and sunshine-y day.

So many plans this morning

but the sun so very warm

and the garden......

It’s not wise to ignore the

call of the garden!

I planted a ‘crop’  

very late in the year,

just for the sheer joy of planting.

Potatoes, beans and some squash

A tomato plant - it’s about 4 feet tall!

And peppers  - a bell and a jalapeno.

I dug around them

tidied the soil at their feet

and watered them when shade came around.

Betwixt and between,

I came into the house

Laundry,

Snacking,

Reorganizing

Groceries

And lunches ready for the next few days.

There are a few loose ends to tie up

but with the windows and doors open

the fan on

tie them up, I will.

“The glory of gardening: hands in the dirt, 

head in the sun, heart with nature. To nurture

a garden is to feed not just the body, but the soul.”

~ Alfred Austin

Contentment is........

Sharing a meal with a friend ~

fish and chips in an eclectic restaurant

decor like the inside of an aquarium

Looking out at 

water rippling gently

boats with sails furled

Watching 

our shadows in the water from the pier

children playing in the driftwood

Feeling 

sun warmed breezes

cooling the day.

Wandering in

toy stores with all manner of fun and games

dusty antique book stores with decades of books.

Browsing in

kitchen and herb stores

rock and gem shop

Discussing

contentment vs happiness

which corner to turn next

Wandering the sidewalks

of Sidney by the Sea

on a warm summer day.

“One is content if one can find happiness in simple pleasures.”

 ~  Thomas Malloy

Finding Cora

Finding Cora

Cora awoke to the roosters crow, the same way she did every morning. Birds inside and outside of the cage began chirping and chittering sleepily.  Cora had spent a safe night and felt quite calm in the morning. For a moment she forgot where she was but the morning sky was different. Ordinarily she couldn't see much sky from her night perch in the cage. On this morning, edging away from the crevice she had backed into, and peeping out from under an oak leaf, she could see sunshine filtering through the leaves. Everything glowed around her.  

Cora flew up to the branch above her where the leaves were thinner. From her high perch Cora saw the magnificent sky opening to the sun as it rose. The edge of the early morning sun was a golden arc on the horizon rising slowly to shine kindly on the land. In the distance, an eagle soared. Old feelings of wanting to soar into the sky rushed through her tiny body. Could she leave the flock - her family? Could she leave Mr. and Mrs. Winkle? Shaking her head and ruffling her feathers, she told herself  “No! I don’t know how to live out here. And I’m not an eagle.”

Stamping her tiny talons she decided she would just enjoy this perch until Mr. and Mrs. Winkle came out to sit in their rocking chairs, reading and letting everyone flock around them. The Winkles probably hadn't even noticed her disappearance. But Cora knew that Wally had. Had he had been awake all night? Had he clung to the inside of the cage and called to Cora every now and then to come home?

Cora’s feelings were so mixed up - and she didn’t even know that cockatiels had this many feelings. So she thought and she thought while a busy wren family twittered and the crows raspy voices raked the air. A robin flew up to her branch and wanted to know why she had stayed out of the cage in the night. It almost felt like she was at home. All the birds were different but all the birds in the tree were friendly. Some of them she knew from their visits to the cage that protected the flock.

Suddenly she heard the flock squawking their welcome to Mr. and Mrs. Winkle. Finally. What should she do?  How would she get down and across the lane without being someone’s breakfast?

But Mr. and Mrs. Winkle didn’t stay in the cage - they didn’t even go to their rocking chairs. She could see them talking to Wally and then....they were calling her! “Cora! Cora!” They did notice!

Mr. Winkle went one way and Mrs. Winkle went the other. Mrs. Winkle was coming across the gravelly lane to the big oak tree. Cora was so excited! She bobbed up and down and screamed “I’m up here! I’m up here! I’m up here!”

Mrs. Winkle heard Cora’s screams and called Mr. Winkle. “Mr. Winkle! Bring the big ladder! Wally was right. He knew that she would go to the big oak tree.”

Mr. Winkle went into the toolshed behind the house, put his big ladder in his old green truck and drove over to the big tree. He carefully backed the truck up to the tree. Putting the ladder up from the bed of the truck box to the trunk of the tree, he made it steady and solid so he could climb up and try to reach Cora. Mr. Winkle didn't see Mrs. Winkle climb into the truck box. He had just made the ladder steady and secure, when Mrs. Winkle in her housecoat and green slippers almost ran up the ladder.

“Come Cora. Come sit on my shoulder and we’ll go down together.”

And so Cora came home with Mr. and Mrs. Winkle, and back to Wally in the big cage filled with sunflowers and strawberries. She was glad to be back with the flock, with her family, but still wistful about the great outdoors. It had been a wonderful and terrifying experience.  

Cora thought quietly to herself "Maybe I could learn how to live safely outdoors. I could fly in the big oak tree and eat grapes from the grapevine in the yard. Maybe Mr. Winkle would make a birdhouse just for me so I could stay outside. Then I wouldn’t have to leave the flock or the Winkles. Maybe...........

“We should come home from adventures and perils, and 

discoveries every day with new experience and character.”

 ~ Henry David Thoreau

Cora Cockatiel - Part Three - Cora is Frightened

Cora Cockatiel - Part Three - 

Cora is Frightened 

In fact, Cora was not that far away. At first, when she flew out of the cage, it was so exciting!  The sun was warm and so very bright.  There was not a whisper of wind. The big tree was farther away, and taller, than she had thought. Just as she settled on an inner branch, a hawk streaked past her so close to her it shook the branch she was on. She hissed and screamed loudly in fright, and took quick sideways steps deeper into the tree. Trembling, she called to Wally, but he couldn’t hear her.  None of her friends were there. Mr. and Mrs. Winkle weren’t there.  Cora was away from her flock. She was paralyzed with fear. She didn’t want to fly out into that wonderful big sky for fear that the hawk would be waiting. But she wanted to go home.

Cora had been raised and had learned to fly within the bounds of a large and beautiful cage. Short fluttering back and forth flying. Cora really wanted to fly like eagles soaring high in the sky.  She learned only what she had been taught by her elders.

In the first cage, only a small and modest one, there had been small spaces for nesting boxes at the back. And as the flock grew, so did the need for space. One day, Mr. Winkle brought home a grand new cage pulled by his old green truck. Attached to the back of the criss-cross of cage wires was a wonderful birdhouse that looked just like Mr. and Mrs. Winkle’s house. Their beautiful flock of white and grey and yellow cockatiels, with their families, would have a new home.

All the cockatiels screamed and squawked in great excitement when they were transferred from the old cramped cage to this grand new one.  Mrs. Winkle put tall plants and giant sunflowers in the cage. Mr. Winkle planted strawberry vines that climbed up the wires. They could climb on and perch in the tall plants, and in the fall they had fresh sunflower seeds to eat.  There were tall, rusty grasses in great urns that gave them some seeds to eat and feed their little ones.  The roof was of a finer mesh netting that let the sun and the breeze in.  On a rainy day, Mr. Winkle could roll a cover over it to keep the flock dry. The cockatiels loved their new home.

In one corner, with tall sunflowers on either side, were two rocking chairs. Facing out into the side of the small farm, they could watch fields of yellow mustard and blue flax in the early summer, and golden rows of grain in the fall.  At night, the cockatiels went into their warm house and their night-time perches.  Nesting boxes,kept clean, were always ready for the mating pairs of cockatiels.

The Winkles came out to the bird cage every morning after breakfast. Mr. Winkle chewed his unlit pipe and read his morning newspaper; Mrs. Winkle joined him with her latest book.  There they would sit in the early morning sunshine with their birds flocking all around them. The rocking chairs were never dirty as Cora and Wally, the most senior birds, instructed all the other birds to only fly into that corner if Mr. and Mrs. Winkle were there in the morning.  Mr. and Mrs. Winkle would dust the rocking chairs each day. Each time the cage was cleaned, so were the rocking chairs.

Occasionally, one of the new young hatchlings would hop from branch to cage wall to branch, just a tiny bit at a time edging over to one of the chairs.  Just as he or she was about to hop onto the back of the chairs, Wally or Cora would send a shrill whistle 'Get off! Get off!’ sending the offending teenager scurrying back to the flock.  

Cora thought about all of these things while she shivered in the tree. But as the sun set, she resigned herself to staying still in the tree until morning.  Cora found a crevice in the trunk of the big tree keeping her back against it's rough trunk. When wild birds had visited the cage, she had asked them many questions. Then she had only been curious about their safety without a cage around them. Now, their twittering, chirping answers were the only things she had to keep herself safe.

She watched for the old cat that roamed the yard.  He prowled and roamed at night, and many times had tried to get into the big bird cage.  She didn’t think that he spotted her when she flew.  For once she wished she was pearl grey like Wally.  There were night owls that wouldn't have minded a bright yellow snack. At night Cora didn’t think she’d have to worry about eagles or hawks, but she kept quiet and hidden in the tree. 

When she realized that she would be away from the flock and alone all night, Cora shivered again.  She decided she really didn't want to soar like the eagles, or take long trips like the geese.  She just wanted to go home.  She was sure that when morning came and Mr. and Mrs. Winkle came to sit in their morning chairs, she could fly down and return home.  Cora tucked her head under her wing and slept.

*****

From Answers.com to question about predators of cockatiels:

"Cockatiels are parrots and, like all parrots, they have two main means of escaping predators.

They tend to fly in flocks, which provides them some protection, as there is safety in numbers. All members of the parrot family fly erratically.  This makes it more difficult for predators such as hawks to catch them.  Hawks soar and fly smoothly but they cannot follow the erratic path of a typical parrot."

“Fear is the foundation of safety.”

~ Tertullian