In That Moment

They bubble up ~ 

Memories, ideas, stories, 

all the things 

that mean little 

to anyone else 

in that moment. 

As unimportant as 

one raindrop 

in the midst 

of a gentle summer rain. 

In that moment, 

there is clarity. 

Answers to yesterdays questions. 

Or more questions rising up. 

These thoughts drift, 

like clouds, 

across my mind’s sky. 

A gentle way of processing 

the everything that has arrived 

noticed or unnoticed.

“This moment everything is present here, 

except the things that are not here, 

and I’m not feeling like disturbing them.

~ Suman Pokhrel, poet, lyricist, artist, playwright

Brain Fog

It was clearer today 

as though a gust of wind 

had brushed aside 

gathering cobwebs ~ 

flinging them into 

muttering thunderclouds,

washing it clean in 

raindrops and cool air.

“Sometimes it all gets a little too much, but 

you gotta realize that soon the fog will clear up.”

~ Shawn Mendes, singer, song-writer

More Sweetness!

*Dessart Sweets Ice Cream & Candy Store

3036 13th Ave, Regina, SK

Side by side, working on writing projects in a quaint little bookstore - The Penny University Bookstore on 13th Ave. My partner finishing up a short story, I’m working on a long term writing project. Two hours in silence broken by discussing writing strategies, problems, the music of the bookstore and patrons coming and going. 

We parted ways, my compatriot drove away to eat pie, while I…….well I had to walk through a line of couples and young families at the ice cream store. Not wanting to appear rude, I joined the line.

Salted caramel and fudge ice cream chosen with care. An outside table vacated, I’m sure just for me, was perfect to sit in the sun and not let a drop of ice cream escape. Ice cream - I really needed that deliciousness.

“Forget art. Put your trust in ice cream.”

~ Charles Baxter, The Feast of Love

Sweetness and a Mystery

An Oreo cookie confection at
Elle's Cafe ~ 2811 13th Ave, Regina

Sunshine and errands ~

a matched pair for getting things done.

At days end, it’s time

for an Oreo confection

with a latte, a Louise Penny

mystery, and her Inspector Gamache.

“Just living is not enough…One must have 

sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.

~ Hans Christian Andersen

**A book review in a couple of weeks…….

A New Day

Snow melted away in sunshine strong ~ dust and debris of winter still clings to sidewalks and streets, puffed up clouds ride high while

hot metallic low slung cars, released from winter hideaways, slither between service vans and sedans, sun glints off their brightness 

buses, sidewalks and streets 

fill with springtime throngs ~

down-filled coats, toques, gloves and parkas traded in for shirt sleeves and light jeans.

“With the new day comes new strength and new thoughts.”

~ Eleanor Roosevelt

It's On the Way

 

Rain clouds in great grey puffs

   lowered over head ~

a tease for greening spring and summer.

“In those days, though, the spring always came finally 

but it was frightening that it had nearly failed.”

~ Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

Jolted!

Evening Writer's Circle

Welcome, check in, 

meditation….

…….quiet. 

Heads down to computer screens or note pads, 

words and ideas floating and swirling from busy minds to fingertips. 

only the tap of computer keys punctuated the silence……………………..

BONG, BONG, BONG……FLASHING LIGHTS…..

heads snapped up!!……..

What’s that noise?!!!

It’s the fire alarm!!!!…..

Should we leave?!!……

computers, paper, pens disappeared into backpacks and cases,

jackets thrown on, we were led outside by our fearless leader, 

Writer in Residence Pam Bustin, to gather across the street.  

 

Sirens blared from two directions, 

Regina Fire Department was on the scene in minutes, 

from 3 or 4 firetrucks, heavily coated firemen strode into the building…..

.......still no smoke. 

Police on the scene spoke with those of us evacuated about our reasons for being in the library.

Shivering in the cold evening wind, rampant speculation spread about whether there was real fire, wanting someone to tell us what to do next, learning that indeed there had been a fire set in building, pointing up to the second floor. I’m sure details will be in the news at some point. Some of our group had already left for the evening. Just as the last of us were about to call it quits, Pam told us that we were released while the firemen were completed their inspection of the building. In agreement in the cold, we dispersed to home and hearth.

~~~~~

What was I writing on? A project about epilepsy management! The alarm had been right over my head! Thankfully, seizure activity for me has been stable for over 20 years but had it not, it could have been much worse. Has given me pause to think about where alarms are in buildings!

“A jolt activates the mind like nothing else.”

~ Haresh Sippy, author

To Be or Not

Is there any purpose? 

Should any of us be here? 

Does any of it matter? 

Seeking purpose, the answer is seldom in my mailbox or in a phone call, so

I am offered two choices:  

throw a fine pity party or

wiggle my toes in the sand 

gaze at the vast, blue sky, 

say goodnight to the stars in the sky, 

dance on the ground beneath my feet

and share in this great community

witnessing it all while I 

live, love and have fun

leaning into life as it is and as it becomes

accepting cloudy days and the blossoms of spring 

most of all to cherish family and friends.

“Yes, I know: the thread you have to keep finding, over again, 

to follow it back to life; I know. Impossible, sometimes.”

~ Jean Valentine, Door in the Mountain: 

New and Collected Poems 1965-2003

 

Butterflies, Bees and a Birthday

Butterflies and bees came a-partying for

a charming, sweet girl ~ One Year Old today!

Happy noise filled the birthday room when

toys for little hands in bright shiny colours

burst from glossy party bags that glistened.

All topped off with cake, hotdogs and yummies!

“Today you are you! That is truer than true! 

There is no one alive who is you-er than you!”

~ Dr. Seuss

A Cool Evening

April snow dripping, dribbling into

     pools of water from

trees etched in black at sunset

“I hear the sounds of melting snow outside my window every night 

and with the first faint scent of spring, I remember life exists.”

~ John J. Geddes

Book Review: I Piped, That She Might Dance by Iain MacDonald

Angus MacKay (1815-1859), Queen Victoria’s First Piper, died by drowning in the Nith River and his body was never found. His later life was a jumble of the highs and lows of manic depression, although many have assumed that syphilis was the cause of the insanity that ultimately led to his death. The treatment of the mentally ill in those years was poorly understood and even more poorly treated. This first novel by Saskatchewan author, Iain MacDonald, is an imagined autobiography of Angus Mackay, a man who contributed his music and writing his music to Scotland and to England. He rose from a croft on the island of Raasay, Scotland to become the Queen’s First Piper in London. He and his brothers were taught to play the bagpipes by his father, John MacKay. John MacKay is also a renowned and remembered piper from Raasay.

I spoke briefly with Iain MacDonald at a book event this spring. His goal was to give Angus MacKay a voice. He wrote skillfully, writing from Angus Mackay’s mind as a boy, as a young man and in his decline. The passages at Bedlam where he was first incarcerated and his continuing decline, take us into a mind who believed desperately in his delusions. Well researched, it was obvious to this author that, because of his decline into insanity, he was only footnoted in history. Many details were found in hospital records at Bedlam, and after he was moved to a more enlightened facility at the Crichton Royal Institution at Dumfries. 

Angus MacKay did marry and had four children. The author imagined an initially happy marriage that slowly deteriorated, along with his penchant for drink, the onset of his insanity and the demands of his employment for Queen Victoria. He was frequently away from home at Royal Events and played each morning for the Queen while she was breakfasting. Iain MacDonald also showed the rude treatment that anyone from the Highland received from the English.

Besides a forward by Professor Hugh Cheape of Scotland, the author has included a Gaelic Glossary, and a comprehensive list of Further Reading. Author Iain Macdonald was founder and long time pipe major of the City of Regina Pipe Band (1992 - 2022) with extensive band experience.

“A chuid de Phàrras dha.”

“May he have his place in paradise.”

~ Iain MacDonald, Gaelic Glossary, 

I Piped, That She May Dance

Title: I Piped, That She Might Dance

Author: Iain MacDonald

Copyright: 2021

Publisher: Printed and bound in Canada by Imprimerie Gauvin

Type: Novel

Format: Paperback

ISBN - 978-1-7357747-0-1

Recipe for A Snow Day

Memory, one April to the next, slips back to warmer springs is not reliable when it comes to nostalgia, expectation and boredom! 

‘April showers bring May flowers’ ~

a mere fantasy for another time. Two days on, snowfall, whipped and flung by wild winds, interfered with plans. 

Plans for walking and errand-ing on hold, puttering at home wrapped me in warmth and a new recipe for Cranberry/Orange Jam.

“Snow in April is abominable,” said Anne. 

“Like a slap in the face when you expected a kiss.”

~ L.M.Montgomery, Anne of Ingleside

Chapter Two, Episode 132 - Sorting Things Out - Situationally Theirs

Sorting Things Out

Ben’s mother, Joanie Richardson, was with her mother and Cook in the Estate kitchen when Ben and Miss Emelina arrived. “Oh, thank heavens you’re all right, Ben!” His mother wrapped him in a big hug. Bigger than usual. He could hardly breathe. “I’m all right mom. Sorry I got mad and yelled at you and then just took off.” She released her son and held his face in both hands. “I’m sorry too, Ben. I’ve been spending all my time worrying about Abby and didn’t even know you felt ignored.” She looked up at Emelina and smiled. “Thank you so much for finding him and bringing him to me.”

“You are so welcome, Joanie. I was just glad I found him so easily.” She was uneasy about having offered Michael’s guitar to Ben before talking with his mother. The words had just slipped out of her. “I have something upstairs I need to take care of. Ben, you take care and try not to run off like that again.” She decided to let Ben bring up the issue of the guitar if he was really interested. As she walked away, she heard them talking. Trying not to eavesdrop, she hurried up the stairs to her living room.

~~~~~

“Mom, I don’t know what you’ll think of this.” He hesitated, not sure what he wanted to say. “I’ve been mad at Abby because she’s so interested in her science stuff. And I’ve been mad at me because I’m not interested in anything but riding my bike with Jimmy.” After another long pause he said. “At least nothing that I thought was important like science.” Cook and Martha had been sitting with their tea, quiet and just watching the little reunion play out. Out of the blue, Ben looked over at them. “Can I get a glass of water?” He always asked Cook before touching anything in her kitchen. “Of course, Ben. Go ahead.” She nodded to Martha stay seated. “He knows where everything is.” Turning back to Ben, she said “If you’d rather have a glass of milk, there’s fresh milk in the refrigerator.” 

Cook always said the right thing. Ben wanted to ask his mother about guitar lessons, but he got so nervous, he was suddenly thirsty. He was sure he would be told that they were too expensive and that he couldn’t have the guitar but he was going to ask anyway. At least he’d try. He already had visions of riding his bike up to the hill with his guitar on his back. Sitting on the rock and playing to the birds and squirrels. Sleeping with his guitar beside him. Saying good bye to it before going to school. He thought he might even get famous. Pouring a glass of milk, he just about spilled it he was so distracted. Standing up straighter, shoulders back, he decided he would stop being such a baby and just ask. If she said ‘no’, then he’d just have to find a way to pay for lessons by himself. And the guitar could stay here until he could buy it, but he’d ask if he could come and practice lessons on it here. In a much stronger voice he said “Mom, I want to take guitar lessons. Abby has her dreams and I finally have mine….I think.” Taking a big drink of milk, wiping his face with his sleeve, he sat down and waited to see what his mother would say. 

She was quiet for a long time, watching her son growing up in front of her eyes. Just a few hours before he had seemed so young. Seeing him square his shoulders and say what he wanted, made her heart swell. Maybe it was what he needed. Joanie had no idea what guitar lessons would cost or where they’d get a guitar, but she was willing to help him with it. “Okay, Ben……….” before she could continue, he blurted out. “I really want this, mom, please…what did you say? Okay?”  Joanie’s face broke into a smile. “Yes, Ben. Okay. I don’t know how we’ll do it but we’ll do it. Now that I think about it, there’s a music program at the school.” Ben looked surprised. “Wow! I never thought of that. I watch them play, but never thought I could learn music. I always feel good when I’ve listened to them.” Martha chimed in. “Is that Mr. Reynolds still there? He teaches guitar doesn’t he? He might know where you could get a guitar.” Her daughter was nodding her head. “Yes, he comes in twice a week. I’ll talk with him tomorrow when he comes in.” Joanie stood and put on her sweater. “Ben, we’d better get home. Abby will be waiting for us.” She looked at her watch. “I let her go with Miss Dez to the orchard while we waited for you.” Ben drained his glass of milk and took the glass to the kitchen sink. He rinsed it out and put it on the draining board. “Thanks Ben, I’ll put that in here with the rest.” Cook had gathered their tea things to put them in the dishwasher.

Martha followed her daughter and grandson to the door. “I’ll walk with you part way, then home to get supper on the table for James and me. I’m glad you’re home and safe, Ben and everything's sorted.” Everything wasn’t really sorted. Ben hadn’t mentioned that Miss Emelina had offered him a guitar. He’d wait until he met Mr. Reynolds at school. 

“We should all do what, in the long run, gives us joy, 

even it if is only picking grapes or sorting the laundry.”

~ E.B.White