Stumped

I’m so incredibly late with this post! I started this story late this morning, but had a luncheon engagement with an old friend. Now home (it was a long and chatty lunch) I fixed a few things and added some others. The picture is one I painted in 2006 when I was experimenting with new activities. I’ve always liked this funny guy and thought it deserved a story. Do hope you enjoy it!

I painted this
watercolour in 2006

Stumped

“ What do you think? Should we take it down just to make a clean sweep of things?”

“Oh, let’s just leave it as stump. It will just shrivel and die. The boss won’t care. He wants the big bushy stuff. We’d just have to leave this one behind anyway.”

The very much shorter tree really didn’t look particularly upset and was really not that old. At least not according to the birds, squirrels and deer that were in the forest on the edge of the clear cut land. They had watched as he was brought down by a passing chainsaw wielded by the tired and careless loggers. The young tree hadn’t ducked fast enough ~ well he couldn’t. Trees ~ even young supple ones ~ can’t duck. They may bend in a pushy wind, but just can’t get out of the way of passing chainsaws.  So, the stalwart little tree was just a whole lot shorter. He wasn’t down for the count though. Yes, branches had been almost completely stripped of needles and it was the only fir tree left standing in the wide empty swath. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ said the little tree to his forest friends. ‘My roots are strong and my sap still flows. Most of my branches have been demolished, but when spring comes there will be new shoots and fresh needles. My branches will welcome tiny birds. For now, my bark will be home to a few bugs. The spaces at my feet are for daffodils and crocus.’  

Once the loggers had gathered all their equipment and roared away in their smelly machines, deer, birds and squirrels edged carefully out of the forest. Deer nibbled the last of the green needles. Squirrels scurried up and around what was left of the tree trunk. Juncos and sparrows crowned the bare branches. It really didn’t matter because they were still all together.

“All stories are true. But some of them never happened.”

~ James A. Owen,  The Search for the Red Dragon

Author's note: Edited April 15, 2024

Language Art

Wrapping my tongue around 

words that sound beautiful 

when spoken from another,

chops them up in little bits ~

unrecognizable as real words. 

Our magnificent brain, 

used to the stasis of one language, 

is challenged to learn anew ~

sounds that flow slowly, 

bumping up against rocky habits 

learned and practiced for decades.  

Slowly, slowly, new learning seeps 

and flows into this packed sandy soil 

finding slivers of room for new 

words and grammar with the same meanings.

“I am still learning.”

~ Michelangelo

Cactus Flower Update

My South African Crinkle Leaf cactus seems not to care much about a drop in temperatures or a bit of wind. More than one new flower has opened despite clear skies and cold temperatures ~ with more on way! Our Victoria cold is a bit crisper with a more than playful wind. I do love my whimsical cactus plants: all I have to do is stand back and be amazed, especially this little guy whom I was assured would have to be brought in for the winter. I could be wrong, but the weather changes seem not to faze it one bit.

**Disclaimer:  Remember this is Victoria cold.  

“I adapt and I adjust to whatever environment I’m in.”

~ Kevin Gates, musician

The Out Basket ~ Complaint Department

The Out Basket ~ 

Complaint Department

No one ever really thinks about me and how important I am. ‘Oh, it’s just the the out basket. Toss it in there and the secretary will take care of it.’ There are days when I just look like a glutton. In an office, where I am usually treated with a modicum of respect, a good secretary keeps the out basket as clear and free of all incoming mail and interoffice memos as possible. She, or he, adds a reminder now and then in bold lettering: ‘OUT BASKET ONLY. This is not a garbage can.’! 

But, at home, that is so different. That same efficient secretary ~ her name by the way is Matilda ~ just keeps loading me up. Not just mail though. Oh no. Mending, bills to be paid, unopened junk mail, book returns, lists. So many lists. File folders jammed with who knows what. I should be kept neat and tidy, not overflowing with every stray item that Matilda has saved for ‘another day’. I mean, really, I am not attached to pneumatic tube system that delivers everything to their places. I am not a direct route to the trash can. I do feel like I’m being treated like one sometimes. Or is it a safety deposit box? 

And what kind of an out basket did Matilda, Miss Efficient Secretary, at work get? A cold wire metal basket or a brittle, shiny plastic tray? I am much more attractive. Beautiful honey coloured wicker with a strong metal frame. Handsome, even if I do say so myself. I’m much bigger and can hold so much more, which may be my downfall. Never the less, I am beautiful and at the same time handsome. Until of course, Matilda starts stacking things inside my wonderful spacious self. 

And, not to sound like a martyr, but I do have to listen to all the muttering of this motley array of items stacked and crammed between my stalwart sides. If any of us could really and truly voice our concerns, we would be moaning and groaning loudly with directions to “Please, please! File us away. Get your mending done. Take that book back to the library. This very nice basket, although very welcoming, keeps us all in limbo!! Sadly, we just have to sit here patiently until Matilda needs some important piece of paper she has lost. Does that sound like a ray of hope? It is a very thin ray. She comes digging through all of these myriad contents. Shuffles them all up. Then with either a ‘yay’ (very infrequent) or a sigh of resignation, she takes what she needs, puts everything back ~ completely out of order ~ leaving us alone once more. It is so very annoying.

“Being taken for granted can be a compliment. It means that you’ve 

become a comfortable, trusted element in another person’s life.”

~ Joyce Brothers

Choice Changes

“You made your bed 

       now lie in it.”

Making my bed this morning 

with mitred corners, 

 smoothing sheets and blankets, 

  plumping life into flattened pillows, 

my nightly comfort 

  and daily pleasure was paramount.

Through these 72 years, many metaphorical beds

have been well made ~ some not so well made.

Choices and how I ‘make my bed’ have created 

a difference in my comfort and safety.

“There are no hopeless situations, sweetheart, only people who have 

grown hopeless about them. You still have choices you can make.”

~ Andy Andrews, The Heart Mender: A Story of Second Chances

A Lovely 'Day Off'

A crisp morning under

Trees of gold and red

A little cafe across from

Fisherman’s Wharf park

A toy store nestled in 

Oak Bay Village

The sun shone brilliantly on 

a lovely November Monday.

“Lovely days don’t come to you, you should walk to them.”

~ Rumi

With Gratitude

Purposely, for this last nine months, I have limited my contact with the staff I worked with for so many years in Detox. On November 5, one of my colleagues asked if I’d like to attend the staff party. And so I did with gratitude and delight. There have been so many staff changes in the short time since my retirement, but there were enough of my past colleagues present to satisfy my feelings of ‘homesickness’ that pop in every now and then. Some folks that I would have loved to see and visit with, were faithfully working their shifts, missing out on the noisy laughter and friendliness that was definitely a welcome balm to my soul. 

Working in addictions, in Detox and in recovery facilities ~ those fragile, early stages of lifting individuals out of active addiction ~ are not easy jobs. Guiding lives broken and destroyed by the rocky paths and the uncertain marshes of recovery takes its own toll. Yet there are many dedicated groups of people, like the wonderful folks I shared supper with last night, willing to step up and step into this sadly funded fray. Thank you all for keeping up and keeping on.

“You is kind. You is smart. You is important.”

~ Kathryn Stockett, The Help