0843 A.M.

Not in my morning mind

to step out in the cool air

lift my face to the sun

and walk.

My legs asked to go forward

apace across grass and concrete, 

across a tireless street

to the lake.

My ears searched for bird sounds

was that a distant meadowlark?

wheeling gulls crying?

in the sky.

My eyes roamed all around to see

kayakers slicing through still waters

while placid ducks, posturing geese 

shared the lake.

My skin air-brushed with

breezy light strokes of

wind passing through

the trees.

My morning mind, left

at home, welcomed me

to breakfast and the soft touch

of my kitty’s paw.

“But the beauty is in the walking - - we are betrayed by destinations.”

~ Gwyn Thomas

Forgotten Clothes

sweaters dresses and slacks, 

forgotten, like dust bunnies 

migrated from under beds and dressers 

into closets and drawers ~

hung limply on plastic hangers, 

laid flat in cedar drawers

weighed down by time ~

saved ‘for good’  when 

each day must be a good day.

“You gotta have style. It helps you get down the stairs. 

It helps you get up in the morning,. 

It’s a way of life. Without it, you’re nobody.”

~ Diana Vreeland, columnist and fashion editor

(September 1903 - August , 1989)

Spring Crush

Crumbling leftovers from autumn still sound the same to my boots ~ 

gold brown ground cover for loping, long-earred rabbits donning their spring hideaway colours

“The last dead leaves of fall crackled underfoot, winter-crisp”

~ Neil Gaiman, American Gods

Chapter Two, Episode Thirty - Old Friends - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

Today's review was just that. A review. Could I have made some revisions? Possibly, but I had absolutely no writerly urge to tinker with this episode. 

This brings me to character development. To be believable and real, relationships between characters need to show human connection. In the midst of heavy grief, the relationship between Elizabeth and Martha seemed solid and comfortable. Elizabeth's profound grief asked for some distance, which Martha offered. 

One of the values of review, is to catch missteps. After posting, I recognized one such misstep. The original title: Two Old Friends confused the order of episodes, so I have taken two out of the title to read Old Friends. 

Old Friends

Elizabeth finally got out of bed. She was fed up with tossing and turning. Sleep interrupted by shadowed dreams. She and Lily playing in the field behind their house. Reading her sister’s letters. Writing letters to her sister. The day she got on the ship that would take her half way across the world from her dear sister, Lily. She had come down to the wharf and given her a small heart shaped gold pendant. Elizabeth woke up, holding the locket, a tear escaping one eye. “No sense in trying to get back to sleep.” Elizabeth Saunders, Cook at the Beaufort Estate, sat up stiffly, dragging her legs over the bedside. Only for a moment, she held her head in her hands. “Get up, Lizzie-girl. Get to the kitchen where it feels normal. I’ll try not to waken Martha.”

~~~~~

Martha Haverstock-Digby was confused. Where was she? The bed was warm and cosy but felt different. She could smell coffee brewing. James was up already? She opened her eyes, squinting against the morning light. Slowly, she remembered the evening before. Coming to Elizabeth, sending Samuel to James and something about fresh banana bread. Martha sat up, rubbing her eyes. “My goodness, I hope Elizabeth slept last night.”

Martha put on the robe Elizabeth had given her the night before and slipped her feet into borrowed slippers. She found Elizabeth in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a mug of coffee, reading letters. Cautiously, Martha said “Good morning, Elizabeth.” Still holding one of the letters, she raised her eyes. “Oh…..Martha…I’ve set a mug for you by the coffee. There’s scones warming in the oven.” She went back to reading the letter. She finished it, folded it carefully, and slid it back into its envelope. Stacking them up, she retied them with the maroon ribbon that had held them. “Martha. I’m done with it. This grieving, crying and sadness………” She held up her hands. “…don’t say it. It’s too early. I know I’ve said grieving takes a lot longer than a day. But that’s when it was somebody else. I just can’t live like this.” She filled her mug with the coffee that Martha set on the table. Stirred in a big spoon of sugar and some cream. “Elizabeth, that’s not like you. Oh, not the grieving but the way you’ve fixed your coffee. We all must grieve in our own way and time.” Gently she said “You might consider writing to Charlie. Your letter may be a comfort to him and would keep you in touch with his grandson, Clayton. But enough of that. Lets the two of us have a good breakfast and go for a walk. You can walk me home!” 

~~~~~

Anyone listening in, would have heard the two old friends talking over many things. What they were having for breakfast. When Miss Emelina would be back from the city. How many shifts Dr. Jeremy would have before he was out to the Estate. Whether the snow drops were still blooming. What other flowers were decorating the landscape around the Estate grounds. Anything but grieving, crying or sadness. While Elizabeth tidied the kitchen, Martha went to her room to dress and take up the sheets from the bed. The morning was lovely; damp after a light rain in the night. Everything glistened in the morning sun. They walked onto the estate, looking at the spring flowers.”Look Martha, the apple trees are lovely and green, flowers budding. Samuel should be bringing me a good crop of apples this fall.” Even as she spoke with hope in her voice, she brushed a tear away. “Dear, would you mind if I stop at the Estate and get to work in the kitchen. There should be food ready for the Dr. and Miss Emelina - I’m not sure what’s there.” Martha put her hand gently on her friend’s arm. “Are you sure? I don’t mind at all. James should be in his office - I’ll stop to say good morning to him, then go home. If I don’t rest at home, he’ll fuss at me like an old mother hen.” Arm in arm, they continued their slow walk to the Estate manor. Elizabeth would put head and hands to use in cooking and organizing. Martha would leave her friend to her grief and return home.

“You care so much you feel as though you 

will bleed to death with the pain of it.”

J.K.Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order for the Phoenix

A Nod to Summer

June 2020

I know not the name

of these delicate flowers ~

their heads nodding elegantly

as summer sun passes overhead.

“Like all magnificent things, it’s very simple.”

~ Natalie Babbitt, Tuck Everlasting

Jack Mackenzie and Misty

Jack Mackenzie and Misty

It was chilly. Jack Mackenzie shivered and turned up his collar. He dug his leather gloves from the  pocket of his cashmere dress coat, glad he thought to bring them with him. And his hat. Glancing around him, he hoped no one would see him. It was an old hat, one that his mother had made him. Pompom, ear flaps and strings that hung loosely. He’d had it since Grade 12 when it was cool. Ordinarily it was tucked up in a box in the trunk of his car. Jack was in Regina for a political Premiers’ conference. He wasn’t the Premier. He was the assistant to the assistant to the assistant to the Premier of Ontario. A job he’d snagged right out of University. His boss had given him the night off. He decided to take the walking path around Wascana Lake from the Legislature. Half way around the lake, there was a big cement viewing area. He thought he would see what there was to see in his old home town. The lake glistened. The sun had broken through the clouds just as a Canada goose flew from Willow Island. He remembered some pretty interesting parties on that Island when he was in high school. Jack checked his watch. Supper time. His parents, still living in the Cathedral Area, were expecting him. Cabbage rolls, pirogues, mashed potatoes, ham and lemon meringue pie. He could almost smell and taste them from where he stood.

~~~~~

“So Jack, what’s it like out East. What’s got you so interested out there that we never see you anymore?” Stanley MacKenzie was pretty proud of his boy. He still called him a boy - Jack tried to correct him more than once, but gave up. Telephone calls didn’t deserve the argument. “Well dad  - ….Mom, you coming to the table? - I like my job. Pay's pretty good and I’ve got good benefits. The hours can be long sometimes, but my boss gives me whatever time off I ask for - unless it’s important policy issues.” He helped himself to more cabbage rolls. “Mom, you’ve outdone yourself again!” Caroline smiled. “Just leave room for the pie. It’s so good to have you home, Jack. I know I’ve asked you this before, but why are you so fascinated by all that political rigamarole? I’ve never understood it. I vote and I like to listen to some of it, but it’s so complicated.” She got up and began clearing their meal away, making room for the pie. “Keep your fork, dear. And you too, Stanley.”   

~~~~~

“Wow. That was so good, mom. I’ve had a lot of good food in Ottawa, but this is the best.” Jack sat back in his chair, eyes closed and holding his stomach. “Aaahhh - politics. Why am I so fascinated? There was only one reason. Remember our dog Misty?” His parents nodded. Misty had been with them for many years. Stanley came home with her when Jack was just two years old. “What about her, Jack? Misty’s been gone a couple of years now.” Stanley scooped another spoonful of the lemon meringue pie, despite a disapproving look from his wife. “Do you remember the issues that the city had about certain breeds of dogs. They were going to ban all pit bulls from Regina. Misty was only part pit bull. One of my friends, I think it was Tyler, said she’d have to be put down if the bylaw passed. I went to Mrs. Elliot, the principal and asked her if that was true. Long story short, she put me in touch with one of the councillors that was against the bylaw. I helped on the campaign and the proposed bylaw was voted down. I didn’t think much of it at the time. University classes made me start thinking and I remembered being really interested and here I am. So I owe it all to Misty and the knuckleheads that wanted her gone.” Jack checked his watch. “Dad, help me with the dishes. Mom, you sit here and have your coffee. I’ll have to get back to the Leg. in about a half hour, but we’ll clean up first. Dad, you bring what’s left of the pie and I’ll bring the rest.”

“To me education is a leading out of what is already there in the pupil’s soul.”

~ Muriel Spark, The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie

Inside the Old Fence

Inside the Old Fence

Pete and Marnie parked in the gravel in front of the house. They hadn’t needed a map to find it. The small town of Misgivings was now only about 200 people. The young couple had been there many times. Pete and Marnie had first been engaged to be married when they were ten years old. It was Pete’s grandparents who had lived inside the old fence. Selling their house, they had moved in to the city. Every winter they joined the flocks of snowbirds and, in their RV, wintered in Florida. Alligator Falls was their address. There were no waterfalls even close, and alligators - well, Pete’s grandpa, told him a lot of stories about alligators. How gigantic they were, that they had to be careful when they came out of their RV in the morning, make sure all the doors were locked. He even had names for all of them. When he was spinning his yarns - that’s what his grandma called them - his grandma just got real quiet and smiled. Pete and Marnie had gotten engaged inside that very fence. His grandparents grew all kinds of flowers - orange and red poppies, sweet peas - white, pink and every shade of purple, light mauve wisteria draped gently over his grandma’s spotlessly shining windows. Purple clematis reigned over the back porch. Much of it had gone wild, the neighbours only trimming back what crept into their yard. The big day of their engagement, the day they both turned ten years old, was under the wisteria. Their grandparents had heard the sweet promises that the two youngsters made to each other. “I will stay in love with you forever. Here’s your ring.” Pete had yet to become good with words. “And I will stay in love with you forever. Here’s your ring.” Marnie was not that creative with words either. The rings? Matching lime green plastic rings from the bubblegum machine at the grocery story. It was the matching part that told them they were destined for each other. 

“Do you suppose it’s still there, Pete? The place looks pretty run down. Your grandparents would not be happy to see it like this.” Since the first sale, the property had traded hands several times, finally just abandoned. Marnie was out the car door before Pete could answer her. He got out of car, stepped in the same puddle that his father stepped in every time they visited. “Damn! These are my new shoes.” Looking down at his feet settling into the muddy water, he laughed out loud, stepped on a swath of dry grass and wiped his feet. “Wait for me! Would you look at this fence! Do you remember when grandpa took the gate off?” Pete was running his hands carefully on the splintered wood and chipped paint of the old gate post. “Yes and it was our fault and every other kid in town. But it was really fun to swing on the gate. I think your grandfather just got tired of telling us to keep off. Oh, and look Pete. Do you remember the day your grandfather laid this sidewalk. He had us get a stick - “Not any old stick, now Marnie, but one with a smooth end to it. There’s some in the pile of wood, from trimming the bushes. In the back yard. But hurry before the cement dries.”  - and then we both got to help engraving ‘Welcome’ in the cement. See, it’s still there.” Marnie was down on her knees, wiping away old loose dirt, crumbling leaves and, finding a sturdy twig, re-engraved the letters. 

~~~~~

Pete and Marnie’s early engagement with the lime green plastic rings did not last long. Too much teasing from their school chums, and growing up, the rings were left in their bedrooms. Forgotten and abandoned. Their lives went in different directions. Marnie went East to a university and Pete - well Pete, just wandered a while until he settled into ordinary construction jobs. They took him back and forth across the country. His mother contacted him one day - actually one of many days - to come and either throw out his stuff or take it with him. They were downsizing and needed to get rid of as much as possible. Working in the same city as his parents, he decided to just go home, see what was there and probably just throw it all out - except for the baseball cards…and his old glove…..well, he’d see what was there. There was one other thing that he found that he kept. “Peter, dear, I’m so glad you’re finally taking care of all your things. Now, come have supper, it’s all ready and your father will be home shortly. We’ve got a condo to look at on the other side of town tonight.” Pete’s phone buzzed. He had started his own construction company and was to be contacted if there were any problems. “I wonder what’s gone wrong. There shouldn’t have been any problems.” The number that came up was familiar but he couldn’t place it. “Hello”.  “Pete? Pete Hanson?”     “Yes, this is Peter Hanson. What can I do for you?”      “Pete, this is Ron.”   “Ron….Ron! Ron Stewart! How the hell are you? Where are you?”  Ron and Pete had been school chums from kindergarten through Grade 12. Skinned knees, riding bikes, sleep overs, learning how to smoke, trading girlfriends. They kept in contact for a few years, but started moving in different circles. “I’m great! I’m a dad now - two boys and a girl on the way. I married Stephanie Brown - you remember her…….But that’s not why I’m calling. Do you remember Stephanie’s friend, Marnie?” It did not take long for Pete to say “Yes I sure do. She was pretty hot, as I remember. We had a couple of dates but nothing really lasted. Then she went away to University. What about her?” There was silence on the phone. “So I was pretty hot was I?” If anyone had been watching, they would have seen Pete’s tanned face get a distinctly red hue. “Marnie? Is that you?”

~~~~~

Over the next month, Marnie and Pete met every evening, sometimes, lunching together. Marnie had left university and turned to Business Management - a much shorter and less costly program. She had learned quite quickly that Medicine was not for her. Presently working in an accounting firm, she was much happier. To wrap up this story, Marnie’s mother had also called her to clean out her stuff, because - as was the trend - they were downsizing. Marnie had gone through all of her things, including an old jewelry box. There, in the bottom under all of the lockets and unfashionable earrings, was the lime green plastic ring. One evening at supper, when all the news of the day had been exhausted, Pete refilled their wine glasses and said “I have always loved you, Marnie. Here’s your ring.” (Still not very good with words) Holding out a velvet box, he opened it and gave her the lime green plastic ring. Marnie’s eyes got wet. She opened her purse and pulled out an envelope. Opening it, she took something out….. “I have always loved you, Pete. You’ve never been far from my thoughts. Here is your ring.” (A bit better) Marnie opened her hand and gave him the other lime green plastic ring. The end of this story is that Pete and Marnie had purchased his grandparent's home and property. At thirty-one years old, they went home to their small town, to Pete’s grandparent's home and in the garden under the untamed wisteria, became engaged again. The wedding would be held there after the grass was cut, the flowers weeded and tamed, the fence replaced - without a gate -, and the house was redone (at least enough to have wedding guests). 

“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”

~ E.E.Cummings