No Rush, No Order

There is no rush to healing, 

no order. What is healing!? 

is it a switch on the wall 

or inside my body that I, 

or someone, should turn on 

so that my crooked self is 

straight, so it fits my clothes, 

or so the teeny, tiny spot 

in my brain is fixed, but 

it is in my power to be 

respectful of the body and brain I have, 

and care for me the way I am today. 

When I need help, 

when my courage fails,

others are always there

 to steady me. Yet healing 

is always in my hands 

~ each minute of day 

at sunrise and sunset

and in the dark of night.

“Our sorrows and wounds are healed only 

when we touch them with compassion.”

~ Buddha

The Race

Hurry into the morning as 

if it would escape. The victim 

of an everyday chase that ends 

when afternoon comes. Chase 

slows as sun lowers itself t’ward 

the horizon and the shadow of 

the racer crosses the finish line

Hurry into the night, out of breath and wanting sleep to come quickly so the race can begin again in the morning. And what use is 

the hurry, 

  the chase, 

                 the race 

when sun and moon don’t pay attention 

to our funny little races through our lives.

“We have to slow the rhythm of our lives so that 

the best of who we are can emerge.”

~ Lysa TerKeurst, author

Whispers

The complexities of life and living 

leave us weak and dizzy from 

trying to find answers. In a hurry, 

we set aside our sweet rich coffee, 

our easy restful naps, our walk 

in the park on a lovely fall day. 

Anything that whispers, 

'there are spaces and times 

without complexities or chaos'.

“Know that everything is in perfect order, 

whether you understand it or not.”

~ Valery Satterwhite, author

Keepin' it Together!

A long day still only has 

twenty four hours. 

It should really be called 

a crammed day. 

crammed with errands, 

(one involved chocolate)

taking more than 10000 steps, 

levering time for lunch, 

travel time from here to there 

and back again

sliding into home to

Breathe!

Did I forget?

Tidying the morning’s clutter……..

“The hurrier I go, the behind I get.”

~ Lewis Carroll

Cotton Ball Trees

Taken two days ago.

I wish I could have 

taken a photo 

of the cotton ball trees 

backed by brilliant blue sky 

but I was too busy. 

Choosing Saturdays to focus

on a week’s worth of home

and chores, I set them in motion

before the sun and wind 

released frost clouds into the air

Hesitating long enough to

gasp and stand stock still 

at the beautiful scene 

outside my window and smile, 

grateful for such a stunning view. 

No mountains, rivers or parks - 

not even the wide prairie -

just the amazing transformation 

of the winter wonderland trees to 

cotton ball trees in the sun.

“It is not enough to be busy; so are the ants. 

The question is: What are we busy about?”

~ Henry David Thoreau

Chapter Two, Episode Twenty-three - Busy Work and Pussy Willows - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

My revision in the second last paragraph related to dialogue which I don't usually have to alter. I don't even like to, but felt that Martha was not really being clear with her husband James. On second thought, regular dialogue is not always clear. In this short story there was no room for James to ask for clarity. So, were my revisions necessary or was I just fiddling?

Busy Work and Pussy Willows

Never ending puttering or busy work……Martha shook her head. “I just can’t seem to stop. Trip myself up every single time.” She had planned to have a wedding reception for Miss Em and Dr. Jeremy when they returned from their elopement. “No, I did not go through with my plan. I didn’t even make a plan. What on earth should I do now?! Quite full of myself, I told everyone we’d have a wedding reception.” Martha turned the heat on under the tea kettle. “Let’s see. If I were to start now, where would I start?’ Scrabbling through the cupboard drawer that served as a desk drawer, she pulled out paper and pencil. Putting them in her apron’s pocket, she picked up her tea things and took them to the table. Setting everything in front of her - notebook, pencil, teacup and teapot - she poured a cup of tea. “Oh goodness, I forgot the cookies.” Pushing back from the table she returned to the counter. Before getting her cookie jar, Martha finished tidying up the cupboard. “I’ll just get these things put away while I’m here. Oh, goodness. James never wipes the cupboard when he’s done. Such a neat and tidy man, except when it comes putting his breakfast things away. Now, what was I doing? Oh, the wedding reception.” She folded the tea towel and hung it up carefully. “Now. Who - what  - when - and where. Well, I know where. It will be out here. That’s easy, but should it be here at the cottage or should it be over at the estate? I’ll have to ask James what he thinks.”

After an hour, the tea pot was empty, the cookie jar was not quite empty and Martha’s list was not as organized as she had wanted it. “Martha Haverstock-Digby! Can you not make a simple decision to make a list! If it was something that someone else needed, you’d have it organized in - what’s that Joanie says - oh, yes - you’d have it organized in a heart beat.” She closed her book with a snap. What was that thing Auntie Bertha used to do? Jeannie and I laughed at her funny ways.” Martha pulled out two of the kitchen chairs, set them in front of the sink, facing each other. She was about to sit down on one, but went over to the kitchen window and pulled the curtains. “This is silly Martha, there’s no one out there - there’s never anyone out there. It’s our back yard!” Sitting in one of the chairs, Martha began to talk - asking questions to an empty chair, then getting up, sitting in the other chair and answering the questions. 

~~~~~

“Martha! I’m home.” James Digby, butler for the Beaufort estate had been out all day. First to the Estate to complete paper work for the upcoming tax time, then into town for groceries and a haircut. Martha, the Estate’s housekeeper, jumped up from her chair - “Oh, James - so early. I’ll just be starting supper a bit late.” She quickly put the chairs back, put her forgotten tea things in the sink and set the cookie jar in the corner of the cupboard. “There you are, Martha, you look dreadfully flustered. What have you been doing? Don’t worry about supper, I had a late bite in town with Giles.”  

“My, my…don’t you look nice. That barber does such a nice job of your hair, James. How’s Giles? I suppose with Dr. Jeremy still working, Giles will still be needed out here.” Martha pushed a stray hair back from her forehead.

James held her shoulders gently and kissed her on the forehead. “Now where did that come from? Dr. Jeremy?” Martha was sure James had caught her before she’d had time to put the chairs back. Nervously, she said,… “Do you remember that I wanted to set a wedding reception for them? I’ve been struggling all afternoon trying to figure out what to do. Really punishing myself for not getting it organized before now. I’m glad you’re home, dear.”

“Well then, my dear, it must be time for a walk. All the snow is gone and the walkway is mostly dry. It’s a lovely evening and I know where there are some pussy willows just peeping out. You can leave your plans till tomorrow……or maybe later this evening.”  James knew the meaning of Martha’s wrinkled brow and really wanted to ease whatever was troubling her.

~~~~~

“Thank you James. It was a lovely evening for a walk - and seeing the pussy willows out - well that made it all the better. I hope you don’t think I’m going crazy.” Martha had told him about using her Auntie Bertha's little 'chair' practice for organizing the gathering for the newlyweds. “You know, I finally know why my aunt did that. She probably only did it once, but in my memory, it seems many more times. It did help me finally know what I need to do. Leave all the little bits of puttering alone and sort things out between me, myself and I - but then I suppose I should have had three chairs. “

James laughed and gave his wife a hug. “I do not think you’re crazy and I look forward to whatever it is you have planned.”

“Distraction wastes our energy, concentration restores it.”

~ Sharon Salzberg

Chapter One, Episode Thirteen - Spent - Situationally Theirs

May 18, 2020

Today’s Review, Edit and Update: First, the house wrens - the nest is quiet now. No more activity inside. All the flutterings have moved outside. Now and then I see a tiny bird almost peer over the edge of the nest but otherwise, the fledging have flown.

    Besides the typos, always a surprise to me, I fixed a couple of places where auto correct wasn’t picked up by this writer prior to the initial post. Another error was the colour of the masks that Martha made for the two ladies. In previous posts, it has been obvious that Emmie’s favourite colour is blue, based on her clothing colour choices. This was not reflected in the original version of this post: “Martha knew her favourite colour was red.” So I’ve fixed that issue. 

April 06, 2020

Update about the House Wrens:  The nest outside my office window, so well-disguised from any position but my office chair, is constantly busy inside. I do believe there are very active babies in there. Mom and Dad are flying back and forth constantly. When one of the parents goes down into the nest, there is lots of movement. Haven’t seen any babies yet, just lots of movement that does tax the flexibility and ingenuity of the nest. Now on to tonight’s post of Dez and Emmie in Episode Thirteen of Situationally Theirs: Spent

Spent

Rest, once a luxury for these two single women confined by pandemic mitigating policies, seemed all that they did anymore. Until today. Today they had been busy. Busy, relative to the past couple of weeks. Today had been 'pick up and delivery day', with an added bonus. Yesterday, when they contacted Digby, Emmie’s butler, he had spoken of the most recent and conflicting news reports about Covid19 issues. His main concern was about the non-surgical masks that he heard Dr. Tam speaking of, and had seen many passersby wearing. Did Mrs. Beaufort think that he should be wearing one? Mrs. Beaufort ~ Emelina ~ didn’t know at the time. Today, she was still conflicted, but interested, despite not even owning such an item. Desperanza just remained in the background, but quietly shook her head. 

When they spoke with Martha, the Housekeeper, she hadn’t had the television news on. “I just don’t need to hear all the information and questions over and over again, I can’t concentrate on my sewing.”

She was still sewing costumes for her grandchildren’s school play. “They were so disappointed! Looking forward to that play and wearing their costumes. I had to finish them so they could wear them and maybe at least act out their parts!”

Martha asked about Digby and was so glad to hear that he was doing well. “Does he have enough to eat and is he eating?” Emmie assured Martha that he was, and that they would be picking up more groceries for him. 

“I suppose he’s watching every news report. Definitely all the medical updates. That man will drive himself crazy with all his chasing after every single little detail.”

Emelina had an idea. “Martha there is one thing you could do for him. He seemed very interested in the suggestion that wearing a non-medical mask when going for a walk may be a help. So a mask is on his shopping list. I was wondering, do you think you could make him some kind of mask. You know what he likes and there’s lots of instructions online - but if you don’t have any fabric…….”

“Oh nonsense, I’ve got more fabric here than I know what to do with. Stacks of it. Some people have an obsession about books, about tools or about lots of other things. My obsession is fabric. I will definitely make him some masks and when you deliver my groceries tomorrow, I’ll have them on the front step. So come with my groceries first, then you can take his groceries with the masks. And you tell him that if he needs more, to just shoot me an email ~ that’s what my daughter says. ‘just shoot me an email, mom’” Martha’s laughter rippled through the airwaves.

And so it was that Emmie and Dez had a busy day. Up early, they ate a good breakfast and took their coffee with them in travel mugs. They split up the lists. Emmie did groceries and Dez went to the drug store. They didn’t wear any masks, but did wear gloves, both feeling a bit awkward wearing gloves in the stores, but felt it was better to be safe than sorry. 

Emmie and Dez finished their rounds, clomping into the mud room like a couple of teenagers home from a party. It had felt like a party being out and about, hearing people talking and laughing. Most conversations were about ordinary things,……the car needs gas, the kids don’t want to do their homework, the dog picked up ticks at the park. Sprinkled through it all were the details and fear about this virus and the fallout from all the changes. Never the less, it still felt like a party and the sun had been shining all day. Once they had both hung up their coats and jackets, they stepped into the kitchen, washed their hands carefully and began unpacking their own groceries. Carefully. Transferring them from their ‘outside bag’ into their ‘inside bag’. Putting the ‘outside bag’ into the laundry, they stepped into the kitchen to put away the few groceries they had purchased. Supper was one of Cook’s specialties ~ Bavarian sausages and pirogies smothered in mushrooms and onions. Right out of the freezer into the microwave. 

“You know, a busy day for me used to be non-stop running and fetching for the boss."

“And for me, it was meeting and after meeting after meeting. These last couple of weeks have really been a bit of a blessing. All that rest that used to be a luxury? I’ll never take that for granted again. Did you see those masks that Martha made for Digby? All kinds of crazy patterns. I hope he wears them. He's not a man for crazy patterns on anything. She even put a couple in with our names on the packages. She is such a good person.” Emmie handed Dez her package with a scarlet mask in it. Emmie’s was blue. Martha knew her favourite colour was blue, but only guessed at a colour Dez would like.

“I’m glad we could have helped them out today. But boy am I ever tired! Isn’t that weird? Guess we’d better step up our walking every day. I’m not, and never will be a jogger, but walking I could do all day. You need to show me the field behind this big old mansion. There must be some real work to be done out there.”

Emelina yawned and picked up the book that had been her morning read. She had brought it in from the patio when they brought in the groceries. “Let’s talk about that in the morning, Dez. I’m going to bed to read. That is, if I can keep my eyes open. Good night.”

“I am somewhat exhausted; I wonder how a battery feels 

when it pours electricity into a non-conductor?

~ Arthur Conan Doyle,  The Adventure of the Dying Detective