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Time to make a mess
“When humans create,” he said, “it’s a messy process.” I didn’t really pay a lot of attention to those words last Sunday morning. I was more concerned, I admit, about the harmonies in the next piece of music we were to sing. Besides, I’m not so good at “messy”. As little girls, we’re taught that messy is bad. We are taught to sit nicely, speak politely and generally not be the whirling dervishes our brothers allowed to be. After all, boys will be boys, they tell us. And so it sticks. As a grown woman, I like things to be… Read more…
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A penny – or five – for your thoughts
A penny for my thoughts? Today, I’m remembering the record collection my parents had when I was young. I loved music and would sing along with everything from the Singing Nuns (who knew my first French words would be “Il ne parle que du bon Dieu”?!) to Camelot (and what 6 year old shouldn’t be singing about the Lusty Month of May?!) to whatever else they had playing under that scratchy needle inside the giant stereo case my Dad had made to house the speakers, turntable, and – wait for it – the NEW cassette tape player. But no matter… Read more…
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Cozily content, post-Christmas
Tonight, I’m curled up on the couch in my family room, glass of wine at one hand and new books at the other. The fire is blazing across the room and the lights on the tree are shining bright. The Christmas season is almost done for another year. Something was different about the festive season this year. I can’t remember the last time I was so impatient for it to begin! Just a few days ago, I waited, impatient as a small child. The presents were wrapped, many with what I hoped were witty clues to their contents attached. The… Read more…
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Holiday interruptus
I’ve been basking in some unexpected holiday time this Christmas season. It’s allowed me to spend some extra time with my family, do some extra baking, and sing way too many cheesy Christmas songs at the top of my lungs with nobody around to hear. It’s also given me some peaceful moments to simply relax, reflecting on the past year and making plans for the new one. I’m far more calm just days before the big holidays than I usually am. Sounds great, eh? But there’s just one little catch. Unfortunately, I have one of those jobs that you can’t just… Read more…
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Woman’s best friend
They say that dog is man’s best friend. I think they’re wrong. In my house, dog is woman’s best friend. An exhausted puppy snoozes a decade or so ago. My mixed-breed Maggie joined our household almost 11 years ago. Ostensibly meant as a companion to my youngest child, who was about to be “abandoned” by her brother as he joined my eldest boy at school full time, the whole family knew that cold-nosed squirmy bundle of energy was really for me. While she is partial to my daughter, mine she started and mine she stayed. A decade later, despite the fact… Read more…
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A yarn of a different kind
Snow arrived in my part of Ontario almost two weeks ago, and as it fell softly on my newly-raked lawn (just in time, phew!) I found myself picking up my knitting needles for the first time in a long time. I’m not sure what made me put them down in the first place, but I discovered a couple of three-quarter-finished projects at the bottom of a bag of yarn. So, with a cup of steaming tea at my side, I settled down to finish them up. A young colleague at work had recently picked up needles for the first time.… Read more…
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The post I almost didn’t write
Disclaimer: I almost didn’t write this. In fact, I started it twice, deleting it each time. The third time around, I almost didn’t hit the publish button. I worry it may be a bit self-absorbed, self-critical and may come across as attention-seeking. It’s not meant to be. But I realized that not going ahead just contributes to the silence that needs to end …. *** Three weeks of Jian Ghomeshi and other harassment stories. Three weeks learning things I wish I could unlearn. Three weeks of words painting pictures in my head, that I want to erase. Two weeks of… Read more…
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Pirates of Bobcaygeon
Once upon a time, in the tiny Ontario town of Bobcaygeon, there lived a pirate gang. A friendly gang, to be sure, but pirates none-the less. Let me back up a bit. For about a decade, my parents ran house-keeping cottages in a picturesque little town on the Trent-Severn Waterway. Their waterfront property had several self-contained cottages, a tiny little beach courtesy of the sand my father had trucked in every year, and docks for the kayaks, canoes, peddle-boat and small rental fishing boats available for their guests. It was a great fishing spot. You could dangle a fishing rod… Read more…
