Bouquets

Dark curly hair topped his sweet face. ’Bye’! From the stroller navigated by his mom, he waved and smiled to the bus driver…. 

Canadians are often said to be polite and today, one little Canadian proved that some of us start young! Alighting at a signalled bus stop, most of us, men, women, teens, children ~ grumpy or cheerful ~ do say thank you or offer a ‘have a good day’.

Bus drivers are paid and have good union support. Why should we say thank you to someone for doing their job? Because, in their chosen career, they do for us what we cannot do or choose not to do. We get to our destinations safely despite the traffic of the day. Walkers, bicycles, strollers. Suitcases, shopping trolleys, umbrellas, bicycles, groceries, plants. Winter or summer. Dripping wet with rain or snow filled boots.

Do these men and women that take us hither and yon get tired, by the end of a long shift, of replying pleasantly to each and every one? It is a wonder. Today, the broad smile on the face of this morning’s bus driver told me that special ‘Bye!' was a highlight for his day.

“Everyone appreciates being appreciated”

~ Lance Greenfield

Fallow

rhythm rests

when words are trapped

like tumbleweeds hung

against stunted elm trees 

tangled in mesquite

on a dry Texas plain.

seeds of whimsy

await a fresh wind.

“We never know the worth of water till the well is dry.”

~ Thomas Fuller

The Ultimate Opportunity

In my nursing career, I frequently reminded clients that one can always get on a waiting list. Granted, in these instances, the waiting lists were related to health care, housing, or even funding. But I was presented with a similar dilemma last week as I perused the Continuing Studies @ Uvic Calendar for Jan-Aug 2020. Languishing in my so-called inbox for a couple of months, I was tempted to put it in the recycling. I was certain all the classes would be filled up. But in the spirit of following through on a personal interest, I opened it and went immediately to the Visual Arts section. Looking for writing classes, I found Chronicling the Stories of Your Life. Aha! A writing project that’s been in the works for quite sometime exactly relates to this class. Zipping over to my iPad, I looked it up. Oh, darn. It’s full. Just as I was about to close the link, I spied the words ‘Waiting List’ in the corner of the screen. I remembered those reminders to my clients ~ ‘Get on the waiting list’.

As of one week ago, I took my own advice and am now on the waiting list for Chronicling the Stories of Your Life. Writing forms a big part of every day for me. Not just this blog, but my personal journal, the occasional review for a fellow writer and the inevitable shopping list. On my blog, Standing Still Slowly, I’ve become a novice writer of book reviews and movie reviews, muses and poetry, and in general the activities of life that I’ve shared with family or friends. And then there's reading about writing. Although I 've taken several writing classes and workshops, I still wait and look for opportunities to support and improve my writing. 

We all have our own waiting lists in this life. Not all are written down though. We wait for our food to cook and do the next thing on our mental list. We mentally review our next steps while we drive to or from work. Our mental waiting lists are filed and waiting for our attention when the time is right. Waiting lists are not blank times with little to offer, but beautiful creative spaces that we can choose to fill with colourful lives, or we can just wait. While I wait for this writing class to come up, there is so much more that will fill that space with learning. Learning more about this new world in retirement, with interests from before the adult world consumed my life. Learning has always been exciting and a joy in my life. Waiting is the ultimate opportunity.

“The world is always open, 

Waiting to be discovered.”

~ Dejan Stojanovic, Circling: 1978-1987

Work Out

Gulls fishing - churning up their own water

Blue water sparkled and churned.

Multicoloured bathing suits flashed.

Multi shaded coiffures, tied up, loose or curled, 

endangered by splashes from

the energy of watery exercise,

survived intact ~ almost.

Hearty cheers and steady direction called out from a seasoned instructor lead us through a whole hour!

Singalong music, muffled by laughter,

shouts and frothing water kept us

in time to strains, stretches, and strides.

“Energy and persistence conquer all things.”

~ Benjamin Franklin

Movin' to the Beat!

Rolling rhythms and brooding blues

Satiny swinging and smooth swaying

Jumpin’ to jazz and jazzin' to jive!

“I play as I feel”

~ Oscar Peterson

Just Breathe!

Preparations to finish

when time crunches

crumple the page.

Each minute remains  

sixty seconds in length ~

Just breathe, avoid any rage.

“Give me six hours to chop down a tree and 

I will spend the first four sharpening the axe.”

~ Abraham Lincoln

“These Foolish Things…..”

My high school sweater,
still with my pins,
only fits in my memory.

There are so many foolish things that prompt a bow from nostalgia. As were many in my small prairie community, I was a member of a 4-H Club in high school. Head - Hands - Heart - Head. The four H’s  were the focus of these clubs spread across North America. Most members were active in the Beef Club or the Grain Club. Smells and sounds of cattle and fairgrounds are not so foolish. Waving wheat and the beautiful smell of fresh turned soil in the spring pass us by without much notice. Making mitred corners with fresh clean sheets or setting a dinner table for friends is just part of ordinary housework. Those little things were our lessons in the 4-H Homecraft Club. How to set the table for Sunday dinner with forks and knives placed correctly. The knives, to the right of the plate must have the blade toward the plate edge. Whether cloth or paper, napkins were to be placed to the left of the plate, providing a bed for the fork. 

When Ella Fitzgerald sings the romantic song “These foolish things that remind me of you’, I am reminded of many things. The romance of home and the fun I had going to the Provincial Fair in Regina with several 4-H members from different communities. Sleeping on the floor of our exhibit, and loving the community of young people learning about home and agriculture. I don’t remember what exhibit we Homecrafter’s had to present. Maybe it was a doll’s bed, a place setting or some home canned vegetables. Oh my, I just about forgot……there was an exchange trip to Helena, Montana on a big yellow school bus with 4-H members, also from different communities. We were away for a week, billeted with different families and it was rodeo time at the County Fair! Teenage crushes flourished on that trip, but withered away once we were each in our own communities.

Those foolish things are still with me each time I make my bed. Each time I set a place even for myself. (When I started in nursing school after high school, I had already mastered the mitred corners.) Remembering ‘these foolish things’ ~ like a sharply folded bed sheet or properly placed cutlery ~ has cheered me on for decades. 

“Oh, how the ghost of you clings!

These foolish things remind me of you.”

~ ‘These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You) ~

Written in 1936 

Lyrics by Eric Maschwitz

Music by Jack Strahey and Harry Link

Credits from Wikipedia.