"We Are the General Girls"

Regina General Hospital and Nurses Residence

Each year we gather, still standing although our Nurses Residence and Hospital are gone with the tick of the clock. Vanished into a parking lot. Our numbers have gotten smaller with the passing of time but we are still laugh, visit, reminisce, and sing. Family stories have become histories. What once was career, advanced education and travel, is now full of grandchildren and great grandchildren, nephews and nieces ~ ~ and travel. At the end of our gathering each year we sing our school song: “We Are the General Girls!” some voices not quite as strong, but all still full of the joy and hard work of our nursing years.

“Our fingerprints don’t fade from the lives we touch.”

~ Judy Blume, author

On an Afternoon Walk ~ In Song

Winter or summer, fall or spring, this Song Tree tells me what season is upon us. In winter it grows a long white beard, in summer’s shade it is home for all manner of life, in the fall the wind cleans debris from its branches and hollows. Today it seemed to lean farther back on its old dry trunk to sing to the avenue of the leaf green tips ready to burst all around.

“There is always Music amongst the trees in the Garden, 

but our hearts must be very quiet to hear it.”

~ Minnie Aumônier, (1865 - 1952)

*artist, costume designer, poet and writer

*from <thedailygardener.org>

Movie Review - The Color Purple - Directed by Blitz Bazawule

There is so much to unpack in this powerful movie. Set in a small black community in Georgia in 1909, Celie is pregnant and living with her sister, Nettie and their father. She has had one other child. When she delivers, she is allowed to keep the baby for two days, but her father takes the newborn from her as he had her first child ‘giving them to God’. Celie never told what that meant and mourned for her babies. Nettie has an admirer who asks for her hand in marriage. Her father declines that request, but soon after he tells Celie to pack her bags. She was to marry this man. He has three children that ‘need a mother’. Celie is beaten from the first day she is there if she doesn’t jump when asked, or if this man that they call Mister, is in a foul mood or drunk. 

Nettie had remained with her father, but turns to Celie when her father touches her indecently. She is allowed to stay as long as she pulls her weight and does as she is told. One evening, while she slept, Mister tries to climb in her bed. When she fights back he picks her up and throws her out in the rain. Holding a shotgun at her, he tells her to get off his land and not return. It will be the last Celie sees of her sister for several years. 

Celie learns of a woman who is her husband’s girlfriend. Shug is a blues singer who has Mister wrapped around her little finger. Shug, soft hearted and kind, comes to their home for a visit. She is the one to tell Celie her husband’s actual name: Albert Johnson. The children grow up, the eldest son, Harpo, builds a house for a new wife. The house is connected to his childhood home by a bridge across the swamp. Harpo and Sofia's marriage is tumultous.

In the intervening years, abuse of women continues. Harpo’s wife, Sofia, is one woman who will speak up for herself. Not a gentle woman, but kind hearted, she refused to bow down to the mayor’s wife. This scene is extremely troubling. She is beaten by white men, jailed and then made to work for the mayor’s wife ‘until she was recovered' from the beating.

It is clear that the women were controlled by the men. Sofia is the first person Celie saw who fought against the control. Celie had never been able to stand up for herself, didn’t know that she could and continues to tolerate the abuse. Shug is the second to see the abuse and finally take Celie away from it. On that day, her husband yelled her “You’re poor, you’re ugly, you’re black and you’re a woman.” That from the porch of their house as she was driven to safety by Shug’s new husband, Shug and another woman. 

Because of the cruelties they faced, women supported each other when they could. This movie told their story with wonderful choreography and song. Brilliant casting, wardrobe and lighting made this a joy to watch. I’ll not give away more of this story except to say that the ending was joyful and very satisfactory.

“Everything want to be loved.”

~ Alice Walker, The Color Purple

Directed by: Blitz Bazawule

Second movie adaptation of : The Color Purple by Alice Walker

Screenplay: Marcus Gardley

Abbreviated Cast: 

Fantasia Barrino - Celie

Taraji P. Henson - Shug Avery

Halle Bailey - young Nettie Harris

Phylicia Pearl Mpasi - young Celie

Danielle Brooks - Sofia

Colman Domingo - Albert “Mister” Johnson

Ciara - adult Nettie Harris

Cory Hawkins - Harpo Johnson

Deon Cole - Alfonso

H.E.R. - Squeak

Louis Gossett, Jr. - Mister Johnson, Sr,

Jon Batiste - Grady

Moon Songs

When the moon rises in the east, arcing over the sky til morning, the night sings a softer song

When the moon shadows its arc, the sky fills with stars, the night whispers whimsical songs.

From the darkness below

to look up to the night sky

is to be enchanted by the beauty.

“Go slowly, my lovely moon, go slowly.”

~ Khaled Hosseini,  The Kite Runner

55 Year Reunion ~ A Story Space

Tiny nurses caps made by
one of our classmates

A really vibrant story space! We were and still are so fortunate to have been one of the 'three year classes’ to share a residence; to learn our craft; to work together and best of all to share our nursing fears and woes with each other as we learned. This weekend we have come back together to rehash so much of the past, the years in-between and being present with one another again. Tonight we shared a fine dining experience that would have been impossible on the pittance we received in training. To top the evening off our maitre de asked us for a song he had been told we all knew. Poor man blushed when we sang the whole song beginning with “We are the General girls, we wear our hair in curls…….” The ending is not particularly polite ~ not bawdy, just not polite in today’s world. A bit of stumbling over the second verse, but we did remember it as children remember nursery rhymes.

“I have never had a problem or worry, either big or small, that couldn’t be 

made better by meeting with a girlfriend and talking about it over coffee.”

~Tilda Shalof, The Making of a Nurse

On an Afternoon Walk - Snow Beard's Song

Snow Beard's Song

Snow Beard, his snow cap rakishly on his head, sang a sweet song of softer temperatures when he could put away his cap and shave his beard. But until then, he would sing his songs to passersby huddled inside thick winter coats, scarves, toques and mitts. Few dogs wandered about and for that Snow Beard was grateful, for the snow around his roots was as white and pure as could be.

“When snow falls, nature listens.”

Lama Willa Miller

Rhythm

Settled into a rhythm

just for today ~

Tomorrow’s melody

will be fresh and new

with our presence 

the theme of our song.

Random thoughts and knowledge come along as you fly.”

~ Sagar Waingankar, Rhythms

Drawing a Blank ~ 2

Where is the story?

Where are the words?

Hidden behind a tree?

Hidden away from me?

Where is the poetry?

Where are the songs?

Sleeping on the porch swing?

Sleeping in the wings?

Do I need to find the story?

Do I need to find the words?

Not today or tonight

I can just turn out the light.

“The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words

being there, written in invisible ink and clamouring to become visible.”

~ Vladimir Nabokov

Play With Me!!

I was going to write an essay about 

the value of real fun playdates ~

about how after we’re schoolyard kids

and teens on trying to be grownups

and adults whose lives are scheduled

with meetings, and family, and sometimes friends

but essays have fun taken out of them

Too serious

Too boring

all that other stuff is really important

but today I sat on the floor all afternoon

 ~ except when I didn’t ~

my companion a mere three years old

we sang the Alphabet song a hundred times and made an Alphabet puzzle, ate chocolate chip waffles with apples and maple syrup

chicken strips and lots of strawberries

sang the Alphabet song two more times and played roll the rings

drew happy faces and just lines with all the marker colours

when we got bored ~ for two seconds ~ all the hats came out!

~ we tried them all on ~ then

home time came too soon but we’ll play again soon.

“Life is more fun if you play games.”

~ Roald Dahl, My Uncle Oswald

On a Late Afternoon Walk - A Song of Trees

From deep roots

it leaned back

to sing 

A Song of Trees……..

Well now, that’s just silly!

Trees don’t sing ~ do they?

 “Every flower can sing, every tree can understand, 

every leaf can hear the silent song of your heart.”

~ Debasish Mridha

 

Twenty-Six

It’s the puzzle of words ~

from an alphabet of only twenty-six letters comes visions set down in 

fanciful stories,

romantic songs, in 

quaint poetry and 

searching research papers, 

deep diving dissertations,

expert exposés in journalism,

biography and just coffee shop chit chat. 

Words scribbled willy nilly 

on the lines in a notebook, 

sketched in napkin corners, 

written in ink, pen, pencil or pixels. 

“Human society, the world, and the whole of mankind 

is to be found in the alphabet.”

~ Victor Hugo

“These Foolish Things…..”

My high school sweater,
still with my pins,
only fits in my memory.

There are so many foolish things that prompt a bow from nostalgia. As were many in my small prairie community, I was a member of a 4-H Club in high school. Head - Hands - Heart - Head. The four H’s  were the focus of these clubs spread across North America. Most members were active in the Beef Club or the Grain Club. Smells and sounds of cattle and fairgrounds are not so foolish. Waving wheat and the beautiful smell of fresh turned soil in the spring pass us by without much notice. Making mitred corners with fresh clean sheets or setting a dinner table for friends is just part of ordinary housework. Those little things were our lessons in the 4-H Homecraft Club. How to set the table for Sunday dinner with forks and knives placed correctly. The knives, to the right of the plate must have the blade toward the plate edge. Whether cloth or paper, napkins were to be placed to the left of the plate, providing a bed for the fork. 

When Ella Fitzgerald sings the romantic song “These foolish things that remind me of you’, I am reminded of many things. The romance of home and the fun I had going to the Provincial Fair in Regina with several 4-H members from different communities. Sleeping on the floor of our exhibit, and loving the community of young people learning about home and agriculture. I don’t remember what exhibit we Homecrafter’s had to present. Maybe it was a doll’s bed, a place setting or some home canned vegetables. Oh my, I just about forgot……there was an exchange trip to Helena, Montana on a big yellow school bus with 4-H members, also from different communities. We were away for a week, billeted with different families and it was rodeo time at the County Fair! Teenage crushes flourished on that trip, but withered away once we were each in our own communities.

Those foolish things are still with me each time I make my bed. Each time I set a place even for myself. (When I started in nursing school after high school, I had already mastered the mitred corners.) Remembering ‘these foolish things’ ~ like a sharply folded bed sheet or properly placed cutlery ~ has cheered me on for decades. 

“Oh, how the ghost of you clings!

These foolish things remind me of you.”

~ ‘These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You) ~

Written in 1936 

Lyrics by Eric Maschwitz

Music by Jack Strahey and Harry Link

Credits from Wikipedia.

Universal Messages

From a train window, July 2018

The Universe declares itself

in everyday things.

We only have to listen 

to hear all it sings.

But our lives are so busy, 

our minds never land.

To listen and hear is 

not part of our plan.

But plans can be changed, 

not always easily done,

so our days going forward 

will be in the sun ~

with rain, wind and snow ~ 

those everyday things.

Universal declarations 

are the songs that they sing.

“He was quick and alert in the things of life, 

but only in the things, not in their significance.”

~ Jack London, To Build a Fire

One Sided

One Sided

“Rates of speed on this highway are pathetic!! Who sets them

anyway!? And the drivers! People that always trundle along at exactly….I mean exactly…..the speed limit. Not a kilometre over or under but exactly!!! I was speeding along, with that great Billy Idol driving song Blue Highway turned up full blast…..it was awesome. Turned around a bend in the highway and there it was. A poky little old station wagon that must have been 50 years old. And this driver!! She could barely see over the steering wheel! She had a nerve being on the road. A typical Speed Limit Nerd. I couldn’t pass because we were coming up to another turn on this amazing mountain road and I couldn’t see if I’d hit a semi or a deer or anything else! And then there’s the ghastly forest fires…..yah I know they were miles away but there was a lot of smoke! I wanted to get the hell out of there! So I had to slow waaaaay down to match this crazy woman's ridiculous speed……Road rage? What? You think even this sounds like road rage? The air was as blue as her blue hair!! I mean really….what if I had to get to a hospital? Or what if you had just texted me that my house was burning down!?……....................................Roxanne just hung up on me!! What did I say?”

“Smile, breathe and go slowly”
~ Thich Nhat Hanh

For Rylie Rose'Marie

A Rose was born

to join the throng

yet she will sing 

her very own song

From far away 

this great-grandmother thrills

for the day when I hear 

her very own cries and trills.

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language

And next year’s words await another voice.”

~ T.S.Eliot, Four Quartets