Out of the Ordinary

I don’t want anything 

to be ordinary 

yet 

ordinary feels so comfortable. 

There is time in the ordinary 

to check things. 

Things like whispered desires 

that spin around a curve 

of wanting extraordinary 

to ‘brighten things up’.  

An extraordinary world 

takes breath and energy away .

I don’t want anything 

to be ordinary 

yet 

ordinary feels so comfortable. 

“Depending on the reality one must face, 

one may prefer to opt for illusion.”

~ Judith Guest, Ordinary People

Look Around

Fascinated by the ordinary 

I look around and see 

little things that 

get walked past, 

brushed away 

neglected. 

Ordinary is what keeps our lives 

interesting and functioning. 

Tea kettle whistling time for tea; 

the cracks in the sidewalks, 

pretty little yellow flowers on a bush

the chortling laughter of a baby, 

the curiosity of a child, 

Fascinated by the ordinary 

I look around and see.

“You can find something truly important in an ordinary minute.”

~ Mitch Albom, For One More Day

Good and Ordinary

My soul is quiet tonight 

after a good and ordinary day. 

The sun shone. 

The wind blew. 

The bus was on time 

both there and back. 

On my mission, I was gifted 

by the kindness of humanity 

at crosswalks and in stores. 

I saw the clouds shape and 

move in the further up wind. 

I ate my meals and fed my cat. 

All of these things made 

today special on this 

good and ordinary day. 

My soul is quiet tonight.

“…it is the sweet, simple things of life, which are the real ones after all.”

~ Laura Ingalls Wilder, author of Little House on the Prairie

(1857 ~ 1957)

With Each Choice

There’s an ordinary day 

in all of us 

when we put our shoes 

on in the morning, 

when we drink a 

glass of water. 

Extraordinary is 

the way we tie 

our shoes or fill 

the water glass 

I suppose some 

would call it 

individual or 

preferential

but only 

our hands know 

how they were taught, 

how we put a special twist 

to the laces, or choose 

a particular glass for 

that morning sip. In all of 

our ordinary days, there is 

an extraordinary twist with 

each choice that we make.

“We are our choices.”

~ Jean-Paul Sartre

What are They? ~ THOUGHTS ~ Theme for July 2024

Thoughts come in…..

Hesitation begs…..
Ordinary moments…..

Unique, brilliant ideas…..

Glitz and glamour…..

Humdrum, mundane…..

Topical issues of……

Studied, circular…..

“People don’t want to listen to their thoughts, 

so they fill the world with noise.”

~ Erin Entrada Kelly, Hello, Universe

What Was It? ~ 2

What was special about today?! 

I could say: absolutely nothing.

I woke up in the morning.

it was grey, dark and calm

I ate breakfast

later, the sun shone

I walked to the book store

on the way, I met an old friend.

Returning home, I bought groceries.

I’ve eaten my supper

I’m writing this muse 

I could say: absolutely nothing,

but today was especially ordinary.

“You can find something truly important in an ordinary minute.”

~ Mitch Albom, For One more day

A Story to Tell

What story do I tell when 

weather is rainy and grey

when cat tales sleep soundly

when travel is still at my door

when life is so very ordinary;

the shimmer beyond my eyes

today's story lives at home ~ warm, comfortable; soaring or gentle symphony playing

or whistling to a jaunty melody……

wanting for nothing save that

all my family is safe and warm.

“A story has no beginning or end: arbitrarily one chooses that moment 

or experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead.”

~ Graham Greene, The End of the Affair

Child Likes

In the presence of a child

the ordinary becomes wonderous

to maintain such wonder 

before it becomes ordinary

allows life to sparkle and shine

whether gray skies or blue.

“I am youth. I am joy. I am freedom!” said Peter Pan.”

~ J.M.Barrie

Beneath History

There is no doubt that the monarchy has created much anguish and pain throughout history. No doubt at all. Yet today, in these many days of pomp and ceremony, it was the measured and steady steps of the procession that gripped me. Slowing the movement of time in a busy and chaotic world. The hierarchy of rank, status and family was clearly present, and surrounded by ordinary people. They were the uniformed men in the traditional procession and the throngs of people in attendance. Everyone participating in honour of Queen Elizabeth II’s passing. As I watched the magnificent procession taking Her Majesty on her final journey, I recognized something more. I saw the humanity of a family beneath the ugly black marks of history and squabbles and foibles of family. I am not defending, nor do I have the right to, the monarchy and it’s history. I do, however, wish the Queen’s family well.

“Courage. Kindness. Friendship. Character. These are the qualities that 

define us as human beings, and propel us, on occasion, to greatness.”

~ R.J.Palacio, Wonder

Only a Few

'Only a Few' from 1988 til today and onward

The barrel and nib of the pen,

various colours of the ink

Well lined pages

on ecru coloured paper

for the mundane and fanciful, 

full of energy or exhaustion

good cheer or great sadness,

birthdays, anniversaries and memories

Books never seen at a book club

but at my own desk or in coffee shops, 

on a bench in the park, 

at a table in a  library

Journals gifted from family and friends

plain brown journals full of cursive loops,

to calm or energize a busy, fanciful mind

faithful listeners to my ramblings.

“Journal writing is a voyage to the interior.”

~ Christina Baldwin

Chapter One, Episode Fifteen - HomeComing - Situationally Theirs

May 20, 2020

Review, Edit and Update

These reviews have picked up awkward sentence structures and typos. Today’s review is not different: sentence structures, typos and today, some punctuation. I am enjoying ‘meeting’ my characters in their early development. This particular Episode shows the joint history for the two sister, Dez and Emmie. Once more, I am in the midst of a very long, and very instructive, writing exercise.

                                           

                                                 HomeComing

Interest in the outside world wavered, as they became engrossed within; yet often one or the other would sit outside as the weather warmed. Today Desperanza and Emelina sat side by side. They still kept distance from one another. Because they had shared their kitchen home for several weeks, they did feel safe being a little closer. Once in a while, they even shared a sisterly hug. 

“So Dez, when do you want to get into town? You’ll actually be able to get your own clothes. You must be sick of wearing mine when yours are in the laundry.”

“I’ve been thinking about that. I think I told you, a few days ago, that I wouldn’t be able to get back in my apartment until the pandemic was over. Seems it’s not going to be over for a long, long time. When I thought about it, that didn’t seem right. That I couldn’t get in my apartment until the pandemic was over. So I contacted the landlord again. He says he doesn’t recall saying that ~ but I know he did ~ and wondered where I had been this last few weeks. Why do you think he would say that? Was he trying to get me out?”

“It does sound pretty strange, but then this is a pretty strange time. It’s really nice sitting in the sun here on the steps, but do you want to go now? We can check everything out, make sure everything’s in good shape. Do you have any houseplants?”

“OMG! I forgot all about them. I can’t even remember when I watered them last. Some don’t need much water - I picked them for that very reason - but there’s a couple that are kind of fussy. We might need to have a ‘plant funeral’. Seriously though, I really need to get in there and see what the place looks like. I’m not the best housekeeper in the world. Bring your pj’s and toothbrush. We can have a sleep over. My place is only a small one bedroom, but I can pull out the couch for you. It’s bit of a scrunch but works ok”

“Really! I haven’t been on a sleep over for years…..maybe not since I was in college. That sounds like fun. We can see if Hartley is still standing after these weeks of shut down. Most of the stores are still closed, except for grocery stores and pharmacies. But at least we can get a take out coffee some place, go to the park and sit outside.”

Dez was serious when she suggested the sleep over, but she really didn’t think Emmie would agree to it. Her house was so big and gorgeous. Amazing furniture. Art work that had to have cost an arm and a leg - if not two legs. All the land around so beautiful. Dez’s dinky little apartment, as she called it, would fit into what had been their kitchen home two times over. All of a sudden she wasn’t sure she wanted her sister to see where she lived. But there was nothing she could do but back out and say she’d worry about her plants some other day. But then she thought about the refrigerator. Her earlobes turned bright pink and a wave of colour washed over her face. She took a deep breath “Good! How soon can we get on the road?”

“Give me two minutes to get my things for the night.” Emmie had been in and out in a flash. “Ok. I’m ready to go. Do you need anything from inside before we go? I need to lock up. So get in, grab what you need……..oh, I forgot. Everything you need is at your place and that's where we're going.”

Emmie hadn’t seen the flush on Dez's face, or her wrinkled forehead. She was just excited to go on this little excursion. She did notice that Dez got awfully quiet, but just let it go. When they drove up Dez’s street, Emmie was pleased. She had half expected that Dez lived almost in a slum by the way she described it. But the street was tree lined with cherry trees blossoming, leaves barely budding. Apartment blocks, each lawn manicured, stood quietly on wide green spaces. Flower gardens graced each of them with style and colour. When they entered the building, Emmie was impressed with the muted earth tones of the foyer. Riding up to the 8th floor on an elevator with one side of glass, Emmie was showed a spectacular view the city and the gardens below. The elevator stopped, the doors slid open smoothly on a wide plain hallway. 

“I’m just down here, Emmie. Number 302.”

Dez’s apartment smelled musty. Her southwest facing apartment was quite warm despite closed curtains. And it was a bit of a mess. Dez picked up a sweater here, shoes there, as she led Emmie toward the kitchen.

“Dez! These pictures are beautiful. Where did you get them? I don’t have any of the family pictures anymore.”

Emmie had stopped suddenly when she saw family pictures, beautifully framed and hung, in the short hallway. Dez and Emmie were tiny children with their grandparents. Then Dez and Emmie on a first day at school. Their parents wedding picture ~ such a beautiful couple, so young. She could barely stop looking at them. She heard Dez call from a great distance.

“Emmie, come on in the kitchen when you’re ready. It’s not too late. I’ll make us some tea. There’s more photo albums in the living room. I’ll show you later.”

Emelina came into the kitchen, running her hand over the old kitchen table that they had eaten at for all the years they were growing up. Dez brought her tea in her mom’s favourite teacup to the table. 

“I don’t have any cookies or anything. I’m scared to look too far into the fridge in case there’s a green monster or two in there. Emmie, what’s wrong? Your eyes are leaking. Is my apartment that bad?”

“No. No. No. Dez, your apartment is just perfect and I haven’t seen it all yet. It feels like home!”

“Come on in the living room and I’ll show you what else I’ve managed to keep. Remember the chair that Grandpa always sat in after supper. He had to have ‘a pipe’ after supper and read the paper. ‘I have to know what’s going on in the world.’ Remember his gruff old voice. He always tried to sound so scary but I never believed him.”

“This was such a good idea, Dez. I’ve been so lost in that big old house, since Mike died, Having all the staff there has kept it from feeling completely lonely. Being busy with the different boards I’m on has stopped me from thinking too much about how my life has just been drifting. You know I don’t really know what I want to do, but I want to do something different. I want to be someone different. Or, no, I want to be who I wanted to be before I married. Does that sound weird?”

“Yeah, it kind of does. Only because we can’t go back to that before place because we’ve learned lots of different things. Different things that are important like all the things we’ve learned along the way. You’ve got amazing artwork in your house. You didn’t always have an eye for art.”

“Mike did. That was one of the many things that attracted me to him. He taught me about paintings and sculpture. He was a good husband and I still miss him. He taught me how to dance. We could dance like Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire. At least it felt like it when we were waltzing.’

Dez and Emmie sat up late that night. They pulled out the old family albums, sat outside on the narrow balcony the full moon bathing the cherry blossoms in silver and in general reminisced about their good old days. Dez hadn’t noticed it, but the creeping feeling of shame had left her. One of her plants had died, and she dropped her clothes and shoes wherever she took them off, but it really was home. As the night wore on, they both yawned. “Time for bed.” they said in unison with a late night laugh.

The couch got pulled out, the bed made up with ordinary sheets and blankets. Emmie tucked herself in and was asleep before Dez was even in her room. Dez found her own pyjamas, got in her own bed and pulled the covers over her. She slept deeply that night.

“The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place 

where we can go as we are and not be questioned.”

~ Maya Angelou