Sunday morning’s rather soggy dawnopensaslight little yips forhelpfrom an aging dog knowing perhaps whowill respond I am up where soft whimpersare actually less about helpand morefor shared company we begin strict orders and the very real need forconvalescencesounds kind of…
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In the night I amlisteningharbouring back to the days ofbabies and toddlersnever quite fully asleep… just in caseinstead now, I am listening for sounds ofdistressas our beloved, gentle giant of a dogseems to be aging quiterapidlyback legs failing to cooperateand…
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Early days of January, where weather isbest describedasbleakhard to remember when last one sawthe sunor the stars evengrey, grey skies, most often issuingrain drops instead ofsnow(as January ought to) this morning I sit down to coffeeand in reverent sort of…
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For the last several days I’ve been thinking aboutmy husband’s Aunt Tinaand the feeling one often has ofthe wishfor more time Aunt Tina was the dearest lady, andmost gladly took me in her loving embracemuch before my husband and I…
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“We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibers, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and they come back to us as effects.” ~ Herman Melville To love the…
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Can you possibly imaginea gentler sky… to accompany a silent(although never so)morning’s meditation in the gardena walk under billowy puffs of cottonever so slowlyclosingin the morning feels as though I am notas far out of theditch I’ve been travellingas I…
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Today I am annoyedwith myself… as much as anyI am annoyed by my handsfingers that won’t uncurl, as they shouldone on each hand, that then get caught on thingsand others thathurtthe morning’s headache andthe tightness of myjawI can palpably feel…
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It is enoughto stand in the gardenunder overcast skies, heavily cloaked ina pale, palegrey still moving absolutely nothingbutone’s eyesslowly taking in each sightthe delicate and theboldbreathing deeply (as one can)and wondering if it is possible totune inand hearthe bees gathering…
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Today in recognitionof the mighty thistle I am currently carrying with me,on theinsidea ba-a-a-a-ad mooda prickly sort of crustthat I can feel, tightin my jawinternally, from about the ribcageuplike a potabout to boil over warning flares have been sentmostly to…
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One of my very favourite times of the morning,sitting outside by the pond,coffee and conversational ‘catch-up’with my lovewatch one single puff of whitesail slowly across a pale blue skyquite contentedly sinkdeepinto the pagesof arather wonderfulbookjust as the sun rises high…
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