A Yellow Fire Hydrant

I didn’t notice the exact date or year that fire hydrants turned 

yellow from red. 

Nothing that drew my attention when 

kids needed to get to baseball, 

or the groceries needed putting away, 

or bills were stacking up or work schedules interfered with street life.

One evening, 

I sat across from this stolid guy, 

his paint crumbling, 

marked up around the top.

Time to ponder this deep question.

It’s been since the 1950’s! 

At home, I looked it up.

Why? 

A perennial question for a child; 

a question I keep for such occasions

No answer was forthcoming, 

it just squatted there, 

little arms awaiting fire hoses.

Again, at home I looked it up.

Yellow is more visible to fire fighters than red!

Simple, logical and now I can rest my tired brain. 

“A fire hydrant is not something you 

want to lose, especially in an emergency.”

~ Shannon Wiersbitzky, What Flowers Remember

Whatever the Answer

It confuses me when the order of things goes awry. Today sluggishness changed things 

without asking me. 

Not even a notification, 

a whistle or a beep ~ 

no manners whatsoever.

..the strange work of epilepsy, 

or is it long term medication, 

or could it be the effects of age, or…. already exhausted, 

I slip back into a snooze 

all my good intentions for this day 

pushed aside by whatever the answer is. 

“There is always the question why 

and there is always life, 

which doesn’t need an answer.”

~ Dejan Stojanović,

  poet, essayist, philosopher

Comes a Time

There comes a time 

when bravery and courage 

are the supports for that 

magical spark of self advocacy. 

     And then we ask: 

Can I be brave enough?, 

Can I ask the right questions? 

without knees softening to jelly, 

without hearts beating in triple time.  

Maybe ~ there will be a time

when we know that our hearts 

are strong enough for all 

the questions and answers.

“When you give doubt your power, you give power to your doubt.
~ Honoré de Balzac, French novelist and playwright

((May 1799 ~ August 1850)

Help

A rock in the sun!

Eager to find answers 

to the many questions 

posed over the last few 

weeks: 

What’s happening?

   When will it happen? 

     What will happen? 

And the biggest question of all: WHY? ~ 

It set my head spinning, 

my heart bursting with 

fear of the unknown. 

I have a remarkable imagination 

when it comes to the unknown. 

The worst will always happen and 

mostly to……Everyone!!……

Deep breath, my eagerness became 

finding untroubled waters ~ or in 

the case of this prairie winter ~

pristine white waves of snow.

In the cold clear air, fear of the unknown vanished

It did help to stop doom scrolling news reports………

“It is the still, small voice that the soul heeds, 

not the deafening blasts of doom.”

~ William Dean Howells, author

(1837 - 1920)

Too Much Noise

Inside questions, in a child’s voice, have no answers unless I look them up on some electronic encyclopedia. 

Books of Knowledge are no longer in existence, their gold lettered spines all in a row. And anyway, inside questions

only come to me as bedtime comes. Brushing the sticky cobweb questions aside is seldom possible. Counting 

sheep has never helped, so I try to ignore those inside questions 

about the purpose of life, what will 

come in the mail, how will the 

weather change tomorrow or is the 

forecast right, why did the see-through 

cloud scatter raindrops on my nightly walk?

If the answers are important they may 

inhabit my dreams, but if too bizarre, 

they may show up in the morning.

“Put my head under my pillow, and let 

the quiet put things where they are supposed to be.”

~ Stephen Chbosky, American film director

More than Your Ears ~ LISTEN ~ Theme for September 2024

 

Listen to your heart……

Inside questions…

Sensations that….

Tensions that ……

Emotional waves…..

Nerves of steel….

“We speak with more than our mouths. 

We listen with more than our ears.”

~ Fred Rogers,

You Are Special: Neighbourly Wit 

and Wisdom from Mister Rogers

Thoughts about Trees

Some may notice that I like trees. 

Trees that are spaced along streets, 

shading family homes or apartment 

buildings. Trees that are lined and old, 

that show what solid means. They’ve 

given up wondering what will happen 

tomorrow and tomorrow. Apparently 

trees are sentient and know what goes on. They just keep quiet about it. 

Do they talk to the young saplings in the 

parks or yards about the neighbourhood, 

the children that tug their branches as if 

they were pigtails. The vehicles that will 

pass and spew fumes into the air that they

clean The dogs and cats that use them in 

quite an unsanitary manner, grateful for 

the rain that washes them clean. Do they 

warn them about taking on a prairie wind 

but know that, in their youth, they will 

anyway. And lose their leaves in the gamble.

Are the trees full of beautiful coloured flowers 

in spring of another class, only deigning to grow

on a plain city avenue, because they were planted 

there, or do they have a modicum of humility when 

their flowers fade and fall to be coloured snow on 

the grass. I would ask them all these questions but

their answers would be silent as their summer shade.

“Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, 

whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth.”

~ Hermann Hesse, German-Swiss novelist and poet

1877 - 1962

Chapter Two, Episode 143 - Who’s the Boss? - Situationally Theirs

Who’s the Boss?

Phillip was fascinated by his apprenticeship. He was about to enter a completely new environment. Meeting the Estate residents and staff was a good start. He didn’t get any negative vibes from anyone, however Mr. Digby didn’t seem to control anything but the books he maintained. James. He was to call him James. He must remember that. Control. Phillip wondered who really ran the show that was the Beaufort Estate. It seemed that control was really in the hands of Cook and Martha, James’ wife. There was Samuel, but he was seldom in the house and then it was pretty casual. He did bring in produce for Cook from the garden. They seemed to discuss what was needed and who should take care of it. But then, they’d all been working together for many years. Were they just like his mother and sisters in the kitchen? Just knowing what to do next and who was best to do it. Phillip was nervous. How would he fit in? He supposed James was his go to person for questions, but it wouldn’t surprise him if he was sent to one of the other staff for answers. Mrs. Beaufort - or was it Mrs. Crawford - should be the boss, but he couldn’t tell.

Then there was this Giles person, the estate chauffeur, someone he hadn’t met. He didn’t know why this small group of people needed a chauffeur, but he was sure he’d find out. He knew that Giles would be part of today’s lesson. Apparently, Mrs. Crawford and James had decided a luncheon would be an easy start for Phillip. Giles would be picking up some of the guests, others would be coming in their own vehicles. Would he be parking attendant too? He was getting a headache. 

~~~~~

When James had approached Emelina about a luncheon, she was more than happy to help. As a matter of fact she was glad. She wanted to have her dining room filled with people again. Laughing, talking but didn’t want an evening gathering to start with. Besides Dez, Matt and Jeremy, she had two others in mind. A small party of six would be a perfect number for a luncheon. Jeremy would bring one of the doctors and she would invite one of her friends from a charity she worked on. Giles would pick up Matt and Dez in the Estate car. She was excited! Talking to Cook about a light summer menu was just like the old days, except she really wanted to participate. In the old days, she didn’t discuss. She told Cook what to do, although Cook could work her around to what was realistic. The same thing happened with Martha. Now, she would decide what she wanted, make a plan and then discuss with them what worked. Although she signed the paycheques, she sometimes didn’t feel like a boss. They just all worked together. How would this new fellow fit in? He was quite a bit younger than everyone. If Brigitte were still here…..with that thought she relaxed. Brigitte did a wonderful job.

~~~~~

His mother called to Phillip. “Breakfast’s on the table. Phillip you’d better stop worrying and come down to eat. He looked in the mirror. Straightened his tie, put his best dress jacket on, smoothed his hair, took a deep breath and said. “You can do this Phillip.” He'd stick close to James and follow his lead.

“People ask the difference between a leader and a boss. 

The leader leads, and the boss drives.”

~ Theodore Roosevelt

Book Review: Glass Houses by Louise Penny

“Burn our ships” Whatever could that mean? Three words written on a napkin gleaned from a casual comment over a luncheon with a colleague Chief Superintendent Armand Gamache took that note and locked it in his desk drawer. Along with it was a notebook with his plan to do what?

The story opens in a courtroom without air conditioning. Gamache is a witness, after the fact, for the prosecution. The Chief Crown Prosecutor Barry Zalmanowitz is grilling him about the facts surrounding the murder in Three Pines. The two men intensely dislike each other. Judge Corriveau sees a tension between the men that she doesn’t understand. Gamache’s plan, that had yet to be fully revealed, would never have been approved, because it involved illegalities on the part of the Chief Superintendent. His purpose was to protect the public.

Home to his wife, Reine-Marie in Three Pines, he was content to live a quiet life. Three Pines, not even on the map and very out of the way, had few visitors. It was the night of the annual Hallowe’en party. Every one knew everyone except for the tall person all dressed in a long hooded black costume. He - or she - never spoke. When everyone went home and continued on their lives, the hooded figure reappeared in the morning in the village green to stand silently, ominously looking steadily toward the bistro. The bistro was a cozy gathering place for the residents. With each day that passed, the hooded figure never moving, tension mounted in the village. Research done by Beauvoir revealed that this figure was consistent with the Spanish history of a cobrador del frac. A frock coated collector of debts in reality, but developed by Louise Penny as a conscience. This figure was confronted once by an angry villager, but Gamache stopped him, saying that standing on the green was not illegal. The village grew nervous and afraid, not knowing what they should fear. Gamache, his second in command and son-in-law, Chief Inspector Jean-Guy Beauvoir kept a close eye on this spectre who was doing no harm. 

The two officers of the Sûreté were distracted by a much greater problem. The escalating problem of opiates being funnelled through Québec.Yet when Reine-Marie Gamache discovers the body of a woman in the basement of the church, the story takes on a different urgency. Viciously murdered and beaten, she was dressed in the hooded robe of the cobrador. A bloody bat was found leaned up again a basement wall by the Sûreté. Only when Reine-Marie privately tells her husband that there was no bat when she discovered the body, did Gamache become suspicious.

From the quiet scenic village to an all out drug war, Louise Penny took us slowly, almost painfully, into Gamache’s plan. What was the person in black? Who would be murdered and who was the killer? Why was Three Pines chosen as the narrow end of the funnel for drug runners?

Would Chief Superintendent Gamache jeopardize his carrier, the career of others and the lives of many addicts to achieve this goal? Would it be worth it or should he have not followed his conscience? In the courtroom, would Judge Corriveau have him arrested and jailed?

Drug cartels and the underworld, the supposed incompetence of the Sûreté and who survived. History of rum running and today’s world of running drugs. Louise Penny fit it all together quite snugly. Armand Gamache is her main character in a series of mystery novels from 2005 to the present. This is only the second of her books that I’ve read. Time to read her others!

“It wasn’t really, he knew, about less fear. It was about more courage,”

~ Louise Penny, Glass Houses

Author:Louise Penny

Copyright: 2017

Publisher: Three Pines Creations, Inc.

For information, address:

 St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010

Type: Novel

Format: Hard cover

ISBN: 97801250066190

LCCN: 2017021224

ISBN (international): 978125064889

ISBN (ebook): 9781466873681

Look

Depth was a quality 

hidden within reflection, 

to answer questions

and pose new ones ~

sharing life’s meaning.

“It is not the length of life, but the depth of life.”

~ RalphWaldo Emerson