Snake
October 9, 2012
I saw a dead snake on the road today. She was arranged perfectly, as though just finishing her journey across the road...except for her head, which was turned in, probably a natural reflex to the oncoming danger. She was not damaged in any way. Beautiful...and dead.
I thought about this as I walked away. Snakes. They make me jump when I encounter them...even the harmless garters we have in abundance; the garter snakes which enhance a garden, by eating bugs and other things that can harm the plants.
Why do I recoil from the appearance of "dark" things, when my mind knows there is no danger...until I know that this perceived danger is void...then I see the beauty. I think of the darkness in my own life. The adders and cobras and even dragons, that flicker their forked tongues and show venomous fangs to my imagination. These dark things I recoil from. Pain. Grief. Separation. Death. Sickness. Hate. Judgement. Hypocrisy. But what if they were dead in me, or even simply beautiful garter snakes, coiled in graceful death?
As I allow myself to die, or in modern terms to "let go", I am witness to the beauty of the work which that "dead" thing has brought about in my life. Fear of dark things...fear of anything, for that matter, is pure imagination...our own imagination, based on personal experiences and perceived hurts. As large as fear is allowed to grow, is as large as my limitations will be.
I am learning that when I react, I am reacting out of fear. It is my privilege then, to slay the dragons and afterward to contemplate the beauty of their scales.
I saw a dead snake on the road today. She was arranged perfectly, as though just finishing her journey across the road...except for her head, which was turned in, probably a natural reflex to the oncoming danger. She was not damaged in any way. Beautiful...and dead.
I thought about this as I walked away. Snakes. They make me jump when I encounter them...even the harmless garters we have in abundance; the garter snakes which enhance a garden, by eating bugs and other things that can harm the plants.
Why do I recoil from the appearance of "dark" things, when my mind knows there is no danger...until I know that this perceived danger is void...then I see the beauty. I think of the darkness in my own life. The adders and cobras and even dragons, that flicker their forked tongues and show venomous fangs to my imagination. These dark things I recoil from. Pain. Grief. Separation. Death. Sickness. Hate. Judgement. Hypocrisy. But what if they were dead in me, or even simply beautiful garter snakes, coiled in graceful death?
As I allow myself to die, or in modern terms to "let go", I am witness to the beauty of the work which that "dead" thing has brought about in my life. Fear of dark things...fear of anything, for that matter, is pure imagination...our own imagination, based on personal experiences and perceived hurts. As large as fear is allowed to grow, is as large as my limitations will be.
I am learning that when I react, I am reacting out of fear. It is my privilege then, to slay the dragons and afterward to contemplate the beauty of their scales.
Body Image
October 5, 2012
I've had an uncomfortable relationship with my body for most of my life. In my preteens I was already full grown and subject to a certain amount of attention from men and mothers...not mine, other mothers. The swaying walk was questioned...the short shorts...the type of bathing suit...you get the picture. I laugh at some of my pictures at that age. I was quite the drama queen, primping and posing and always wanting attention.
At 14 I lost my father. We had to return to Canada from the Philippines so he could get proper medical care, but he died anyway. I was in a new school, new culture and grieving as well. I'd never watched TV or really had potato chips...Both of these were new to me and they filled the void that year...I gained weight!
I've never been unhappy with my height or my shape, just my weight. As a teenager, my boyfriends would insinuate that I needed to lose weight. Looking back at those pictures I can't believe how thin I was. I remember diets of lettuce and potato skins (not the deep fried kind)..Suffice it to say, I wrecked my metabolism at a young age.
As a young mother I managed to keep my weight in check and then joined WW and was skiiiiiiny for a couple of years, but when I stopped I gained more than ever.
I'm fascinated by my body image dysfunction. I can tell you what my weight was at almost any given time of my life. What I weighed when my mom died, when I walked Hadrian's wall, when I became separated, when my sister visited. I have weighed myself at least once a week ever since I was about 13 years old...I'm going to be 50 in about 6 months.
Just recently I removed my bathroom mirror and wrote "You Look Fine!" on the wall where it previously hung. I've gone almost a month without weighing while I'm here on Salt Spring, just concentrating on eating healthy and getting out of doors daily. My clothes fit better. I like the way I feel. I like the strength I'm gaining.
No, this isn't the most flattering picture. No, I don't have a perfect body. I had that at 13, 18 and probably around 25 (see, I told you I could remember), but it's just fine, and I'm tired of being hard on myself all the time. I've decided to see what happens without my scale. I've decided to keep improving my healthy eating and getting lots of great exercise. I've decided to love my body every day and be kind to her. After all, shes the only one I have.
I've had an uncomfortable relationship with my body for most of my life. In my preteens I was already full grown and subject to a certain amount of attention from men and mothers...not mine, other mothers. The swaying walk was questioned...the short shorts...the type of bathing suit...you get the picture. I laugh at some of my pictures at that age. I was quite the drama queen, primping and posing and always wanting attention.
At 14 I lost my father. We had to return to Canada from the Philippines so he could get proper medical care, but he died anyway. I was in a new school, new culture and grieving as well. I'd never watched TV or really had potato chips...Both of these were new to me and they filled the void that year...I gained weight!
I've never been unhappy with my height or my shape, just my weight. As a teenager, my boyfriends would insinuate that I needed to lose weight. Looking back at those pictures I can't believe how thin I was. I remember diets of lettuce and potato skins (not the deep fried kind)..Suffice it to say, I wrecked my metabolism at a young age.
As a young mother I managed to keep my weight in check and then joined WW and was skiiiiiiny for a couple of years, but when I stopped I gained more than ever.
I'm fascinated by my body image dysfunction. I can tell you what my weight was at almost any given time of my life. What I weighed when my mom died, when I walked Hadrian's wall, when I became separated, when my sister visited. I have weighed myself at least once a week ever since I was about 13 years old...I'm going to be 50 in about 6 months.
Just recently I removed my bathroom mirror and wrote "You Look Fine!" on the wall where it previously hung. I've gone almost a month without weighing while I'm here on Salt Spring, just concentrating on eating healthy and getting out of doors daily. My clothes fit better. I like the way I feel. I like the strength I'm gaining.
No, this isn't the most flattering picture. No, I don't have a perfect body. I had that at 13, 18 and probably around 25 (see, I told you I could remember), but it's just fine, and I'm tired of being hard on myself all the time. I've decided to see what happens without my scale. I've decided to keep improving my healthy eating and getting lots of great exercise. I've decided to love my body every day and be kind to her. After all, shes the only one I have.
A Wider View
August 22. 2012
I am learning to take a wider view of life. My vision has been tunneled and small and often times dark with worry and care taking. Yes, I have emerged into the light many times, only to tunnel under again, always waiting for that light at the end. You know those highway tunnels, a series of them, the ones we enjoyed so much as children on travel holidays?
Lately I've been taking a wider view. I've not gone looking for it, but it found me. Grabbed me by my toes and pulled me from the earth, flinging me in the air and shouting, "Look, Sweetheart! Look! There is a big wide world made for your enjoyment and passion and longings. Profusion piled upon profusion of grace and beauty."
I am looking, mouth open wide, jaw relaxed and limbs akimbo. I am laughing with the wind and sleeping with stars.
Oh, co-created elements, how beautiful you are to me. Am I as beautiful to you? I think so. I think so.
I am learning to take a wider view of life. My vision has been tunneled and small and often times dark with worry and care taking. Yes, I have emerged into the light many times, only to tunnel under again, always waiting for that light at the end. You know those highway tunnels, a series of them, the ones we enjoyed so much as children on travel holidays?
Lately I've been taking a wider view. I've not gone looking for it, but it found me. Grabbed me by my toes and pulled me from the earth, flinging me in the air and shouting, "Look, Sweetheart! Look! There is a big wide world made for your enjoyment and passion and longings. Profusion piled upon profusion of grace and beauty."
I am looking, mouth open wide, jaw relaxed and limbs akimbo. I am laughing with the wind and sleeping with stars.
Oh, co-created elements, how beautiful you are to me. Am I as beautiful to you? I think so. I think so.
Fragrant
July 11, 2012
How I love the smell of lavender. My connection with the old lavender bush at the entrance to The Haven was another stepping stone toward my love of all things herbal. I recall the gardener saving the trimmed flowers for me, and how I would bury my face in them and INHAAAAALE! He would laugh at my love affair with the old plant, but I was captive!
I am a smeller. I used to get in trouble at buffets, because I wanted to smell everything. Looking back on that period of my life makes me realize it was probably a smart idea!
But there are so many delightful smells...the crisp ocean air on a cool day, the deep earthy notes of a forest path, humus-y and rich. Then there is the perfect smell of puppy breath, the top of a freshly washed baby's head, the way my skin smells after I sit in the sun...I know, I know...and then flowers! Roses, and lilies, lilacs, jasmine, mock orange..Then there's a turkey dinner roasting, bacon, a sizzling steak, or fresh baked bread. How, how, how can there be so much delight experienced by the olfactory glands?
And the memories attached to the smells can go on and on..Just perfume alone evokes whole eras for me. The smell of Jontue perfume brings back the memory of my high school years, Emeraude my young married life. Oscar, my thirties.
There are, however, smells which are not so pleasing...bad BO, garlic breath, garbage which has sat too long, and the smell you get after an angry cat has been in your house...a backed up septic, the smell of death, burning eggs...I won't go on.
How will I be to the world around me and the friends who love me? Will I be fragrant? or will I stink? My choice...
How I love the smell of lavender. My connection with the old lavender bush at the entrance to The Haven was another stepping stone toward my love of all things herbal. I recall the gardener saving the trimmed flowers for me, and how I would bury my face in them and INHAAAAALE! He would laugh at my love affair with the old plant, but I was captive!
I am a smeller. I used to get in trouble at buffets, because I wanted to smell everything. Looking back on that period of my life makes me realize it was probably a smart idea!
But there are so many delightful smells...the crisp ocean air on a cool day, the deep earthy notes of a forest path, humus-y and rich. Then there is the perfect smell of puppy breath, the top of a freshly washed baby's head, the way my skin smells after I sit in the sun...I know, I know...and then flowers! Roses, and lilies, lilacs, jasmine, mock orange..Then there's a turkey dinner roasting, bacon, a sizzling steak, or fresh baked bread. How, how, how can there be so much delight experienced by the olfactory glands?
And the memories attached to the smells can go on and on..Just perfume alone evokes whole eras for me. The smell of Jontue perfume brings back the memory of my high school years, Emeraude my young married life. Oscar, my thirties.
There are, however, smells which are not so pleasing...bad BO, garlic breath, garbage which has sat too long, and the smell you get after an angry cat has been in your house...a backed up septic, the smell of death, burning eggs...I won't go on.
How will I be to the world around me and the friends who love me? Will I be fragrant? or will I stink? My choice...
Early Morning
July 8, 2012
Pale Half-Moon against blue, descending West.
Up Eastern corridor rides golden Sun.
I lay between yin and yang, here on bare mountain side...
Afloat above the stirring world...the coffee makers and drowsy dreamers.
I have sought an empty place and it has filled me.
Pale Half-Moon against blue, descending West.
Up Eastern corridor rides golden Sun.
I lay between yin and yang, here on bare mountain side...
Afloat above the stirring world...the coffee makers and drowsy dreamers.
I have sought an empty place and it has filled me.
Windows
July 2, 2012
Some of my most ecstatic memories have involved windows. Odd, I know, but it's a fact. Earliest memory of this was out in "the tribe" in the Philippines, where we spent our summers...hot summers. We had a house built, different from the temporary lean-to and Nipa huts the indigenous peoples made themselves. Ours was made of hand-sawn lumber, with mahogany floors. The floors were slatted to allow the breeze to flow through, and also so the betel nut chewers could spit through the cracks. The windows were large, and in the bedroom they were floor to ceiling, the bottom half railed in. I used to lay in my bed at night, surrounded by windows, and watch the fireflies in the tree, listen to the rustle of the wind in the leaves and the gentle plash of the surf on the beach. The breeze would come through to bathe me with coolness and it was bliss. How well I slept when I was young!
I also have a memory of when I was 14. We were back in Canada, as my father was dying and soon passed away. I had a room with my bed next to the window that winter. First real experience with snow for me. How I loved to keep the window cracked open and let the falling snow sift onto my face as I slept, cuddled beneath the warm covers. I didn't have a concept of heating bills at that age, I'm sure!
When I was a teenager, away at boarding school, there would be four girls to a room. Our room had two bunk beds...and I claimed a top bed, by the window. We lived on the side of a hill. The wind would rush through the window, and I was cooled on hot tropical nights, sleeping almost naked, with the wind visiting me like a clandestine lover through the open window.
I am old now, or so I say, and I still love an open window. I run to the windows when I think I hear the rain, or the wind through the trees...I don't want to miss out on the sounds and sensations that contributed to so much joy. Perhaps the windows gave me a sense of safety, a "looking out upon the wild things of the world" whilst warm and safe inside.
I have a fantasy that some day I'll have a house like the one I grew up in. Dark wood, wide open windows, ocean noises and wind and rain coming to me on the soft night air. When I die, that is my prayer...a house of windows...all windows...
Some of my most ecstatic memories have involved windows. Odd, I know, but it's a fact. Earliest memory of this was out in "the tribe" in the Philippines, where we spent our summers...hot summers. We had a house built, different from the temporary lean-to and Nipa huts the indigenous peoples made themselves. Ours was made of hand-sawn lumber, with mahogany floors. The floors were slatted to allow the breeze to flow through, and also so the betel nut chewers could spit through the cracks. The windows were large, and in the bedroom they were floor to ceiling, the bottom half railed in. I used to lay in my bed at night, surrounded by windows, and watch the fireflies in the tree, listen to the rustle of the wind in the leaves and the gentle plash of the surf on the beach. The breeze would come through to bathe me with coolness and it was bliss. How well I slept when I was young!
I also have a memory of when I was 14. We were back in Canada, as my father was dying and soon passed away. I had a room with my bed next to the window that winter. First real experience with snow for me. How I loved to keep the window cracked open and let the falling snow sift onto my face as I slept, cuddled beneath the warm covers. I didn't have a concept of heating bills at that age, I'm sure!
When I was a teenager, away at boarding school, there would be four girls to a room. Our room had two bunk beds...and I claimed a top bed, by the window. We lived on the side of a hill. The wind would rush through the window, and I was cooled on hot tropical nights, sleeping almost naked, with the wind visiting me like a clandestine lover through the open window.
I am old now, or so I say, and I still love an open window. I run to the windows when I think I hear the rain, or the wind through the trees...I don't want to miss out on the sounds and sensations that contributed to so much joy. Perhaps the windows gave me a sense of safety, a "looking out upon the wild things of the world" whilst warm and safe inside.
I have a fantasy that some day I'll have a house like the one I grew up in. Dark wood, wide open windows, ocean noises and wind and rain coming to me on the soft night air. When I die, that is my prayer...a house of windows...all windows...
Sorrow
June 28, 2012
Sorrow is a hungry thing, gnawing steadily at the heart. She appears to be bedfellow to Joy, as the moments of happiness can be heightened in Sorrow's presence...at times. Other times Joy goes on vacation and leaves Sorrow to curl me tightly on the floor, sobbing. Fetal position, I shut out the world, and hurt and shame...I think. Or does this clenched form I take merely hold the pain closer, nursing, absorbing?
I am not a stranger to grief, but then...there aren't many humans who are. Sorrow is a companion most of our lives. Sometimes a small friend and other times a looming monster.
I would make my peace with her...sweet Sorrow with the long white hair, stooped shoulders and bright eyes. I think...perhaps...she must be a door into mysteries I can't yet see...a window to bright places.
Sorrow is a hungry thing, gnawing steadily at the heart. She appears to be bedfellow to Joy, as the moments of happiness can be heightened in Sorrow's presence...at times. Other times Joy goes on vacation and leaves Sorrow to curl me tightly on the floor, sobbing. Fetal position, I shut out the world, and hurt and shame...I think. Or does this clenched form I take merely hold the pain closer, nursing, absorbing?
I am not a stranger to grief, but then...there aren't many humans who are. Sorrow is a companion most of our lives. Sometimes a small friend and other times a looming monster.
I would make my peace with her...sweet Sorrow with the long white hair, stooped shoulders and bright eyes. I think...perhaps...she must be a door into mysteries I can't yet see...a window to bright places.
Adena
June 19, 2012
My daughter, Adena, is 30 today...this is an older pic, as I don't have any recent ones, but it's a beautiful picture of my beautiful daughter. I remember when she was born, how little I knew about raising a child, how many mistakes I made as a very young and inexperienced mother.
She has been a delight and an encouragement, and a continued support to me as I grow older. I've reminded her that she's my retirement plan, and she nods her head gravely and agrees....I love my Dena!
I remember once, when her dad and I were having a quarrel, she looked at me and said, "Love isn't all hearts and doves is it?" I laughed and agreed. She was about 11 years old. Always wise beyond her years. I wish her love and happiness in the years to come. Adena!
My daughter, Adena, is 30 today...this is an older pic, as I don't have any recent ones, but it's a beautiful picture of my beautiful daughter. I remember when she was born, how little I knew about raising a child, how many mistakes I made as a very young and inexperienced mother.
She has been a delight and an encouragement, and a continued support to me as I grow older. I've reminded her that she's my retirement plan, and she nods her head gravely and agrees....I love my Dena!
I remember once, when her dad and I were having a quarrel, she looked at me and said, "Love isn't all hearts and doves is it?" I laughed and agreed. She was about 11 years old. Always wise beyond her years. I wish her love and happiness in the years to come. Adena!
Peace
June 18, 2012
We all want peace. The world wants it. Individual humans seek it. It seems, for most of us, to be an illusive thing. I have found peace in letting go...in acceptance of what is...in enjoying the moments...in not thinking of what could have been, or what might be. Peace seems to need space, and an open heart and hands to grow. It appears to need an acceptance of others and their quirks and differences to mature into something real.
I often wonder about our incessant talk of peace, when we can't even stop gossiping about our friends, or being fitful and impatient with our neighbors. Peace begins in our own hearts. Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me. Peace.
We all want peace. The world wants it. Individual humans seek it. It seems, for most of us, to be an illusive thing. I have found peace in letting go...in acceptance of what is...in enjoying the moments...in not thinking of what could have been, or what might be. Peace seems to need space, and an open heart and hands to grow. It appears to need an acceptance of others and their quirks and differences to mature into something real.
I often wonder about our incessant talk of peace, when we can't even stop gossiping about our friends, or being fitful and impatient with our neighbors. Peace begins in our own hearts. Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me. Peace.
Mt Maxwell
June 17, 2012
I climbed to the top of Mt Maxwell today, and sat at the top of those cliffs you see. I drove a good way, and then spent about 40 minutes huffing and puffing my way up the trail...poor knees! I was rewarded, however, by a spectacular view! I didn't have my camera with me, as I'm trying to learn to just enjoy moments, without feeling the need to obsessively record and share them...
My view was somewhat blocked to the right by large pine trees, but to my left I could see forever...wide meadows far below me, melting into tilled farms and fields...a patchwork of industry. Tiny cars wending their way across Salt Spring towards the distant Salish sea, where a toy ferry made its way between even further islands...then mist. I sat for about 10 minutes, intermittently yelling at my dog, Molly, to SIT! One false step near the edge and over she'd go....hmmm...maybe I should've let her wander...hee hee. Thirty minutes to get back to the car...exhilaration and gratitude for such natural beauty available to me within minutes of my home. Wow! Mt. Maxwell.
I climbed to the top of Mt Maxwell today, and sat at the top of those cliffs you see. I drove a good way, and then spent about 40 minutes huffing and puffing my way up the trail...poor knees! I was rewarded, however, by a spectacular view! I didn't have my camera with me, as I'm trying to learn to just enjoy moments, without feeling the need to obsessively record and share them...
My view was somewhat blocked to the right by large pine trees, but to my left I could see forever...wide meadows far below me, melting into tilled farms and fields...a patchwork of industry. Tiny cars wending their way across Salt Spring towards the distant Salish sea, where a toy ferry made its way between even further islands...then mist. I sat for about 10 minutes, intermittently yelling at my dog, Molly, to SIT! One false step near the edge and over she'd go....hmmm...maybe I should've let her wander...hee hee. Thirty minutes to get back to the car...exhilaration and gratitude for such natural beauty available to me within minutes of my home. Wow! Mt. Maxwell.
Walking
June 16, 2012
I love to walk. Some of my earliest memories are of walking along the beach with my parents in the Philippines, and always loving to lag behind till they were out of sight and my stomach was queasy with the excitement of being all alone. I remember them yelling, "Come ON, Heather." I'm reaping what I sowed now, as my dog, Molly, does the same thing to me.
Walking is a simple way to maintain a healthy heart and lungs, and an emotional equilibrium for the day. it may not bring about astounding results in muscle mass and a "hot bod", but is considered one of the healthiest ways to maintain a sound body.
I remember my mother used to love to walk the "airstrip", in the Philippines. This was a long mowed area of grass where the little Helio plane would take off and land. It was a favorite place for the adults to walk in the cool of the evening. There were no gyms where I was growing up, so the "walk" was the thing. Often they would walk together or stop to chat.. It was quite the community event.
I will probably walk till my legs won't hold me up anymore. The places these legs have taken me have brought me joy and surprises. You never know what you'll see around another corner, over another hill, at the bottom of another dip. Walking.
I love to walk. Some of my earliest memories are of walking along the beach with my parents in the Philippines, and always loving to lag behind till they were out of sight and my stomach was queasy with the excitement of being all alone. I remember them yelling, "Come ON, Heather." I'm reaping what I sowed now, as my dog, Molly, does the same thing to me.
Walking is a simple way to maintain a healthy heart and lungs, and an emotional equilibrium for the day. it may not bring about astounding results in muscle mass and a "hot bod", but is considered one of the healthiest ways to maintain a sound body.
I remember my mother used to love to walk the "airstrip", in the Philippines. This was a long mowed area of grass where the little Helio plane would take off and land. It was a favorite place for the adults to walk in the cool of the evening. There were no gyms where I was growing up, so the "walk" was the thing. Often they would walk together or stop to chat.. It was quite the community event.
I will probably walk till my legs won't hold me up anymore. The places these legs have taken me have brought me joy and surprises. You never know what you'll see around another corner, over another hill, at the bottom of another dip. Walking.
Yellow
June 15, 2012
Scotch broom, right outside my window when I wake in the morning. Normally it shines brightly in the morning light, and the warm glow is a happy splash to my waking eyes. Most people think Broom is a pesky, invasive weed. It is, in fact, a medicinal plant, although I'm not sure of its actions. Apparently the flower, if made into a flower essence, is specific for "fear of impending world doom". Hmmm....I know some people who could use a little of this!
Also, the Scotch Broom takes over disturbed ground and restores it with nutrients. It is assumed that once the other plants begin to grow up again, Broom will be crowded out. Sometimes we're in too much of a hurry to make our little world perfect, cutting down "invasive" species...when, in fact, they're only doing their job! Yellow.
Scotch broom, right outside my window when I wake in the morning. Normally it shines brightly in the morning light, and the warm glow is a happy splash to my waking eyes. Most people think Broom is a pesky, invasive weed. It is, in fact, a medicinal plant, although I'm not sure of its actions. Apparently the flower, if made into a flower essence, is specific for "fear of impending world doom". Hmmm....I know some people who could use a little of this!
Also, the Scotch Broom takes over disturbed ground and restores it with nutrients. It is assumed that once the other plants begin to grow up again, Broom will be crowded out. Sometimes we're in too much of a hurry to make our little world perfect, cutting down "invasive" species...when, in fact, they're only doing their job! Yellow.
Gulf Islands
June 14, 2012
No matter where I gaze when I'm by the sea, I can see another one of the Gulf Islands off on the horizon...blue in the distance...floating serenely above the horizon line in the far away mists of the Salish Sea. Populated by hippies, retirees, hermits, recluses, partiers, adventurers, and anything else you can imagine, the Islands are a wonderful place to escape from the rat race of the rest of the world. They say an earthquake will “get us” some day, and the whole lot will slide into the sea. In the meantime, I'm lovin' livin' here! Gulf Islands.
No matter where I gaze when I'm by the sea, I can see another one of the Gulf Islands off on the horizon...blue in the distance...floating serenely above the horizon line in the far away mists of the Salish Sea. Populated by hippies, retirees, hermits, recluses, partiers, adventurers, and anything else you can imagine, the Islands are a wonderful place to escape from the rat race of the rest of the world. They say an earthquake will “get us” some day, and the whole lot will slide into the sea. In the meantime, I'm lovin' livin' here! Gulf Islands.
Ken Holloway
June 13, 2012
I'm not a country fan, and I'm not exactly sure when I picked up this CD...but Ken is one rockin' gospel country singer....My favorite song is “Daddy Whipped the Devil With the Bible Belt”...Spank 'im! Daddy! Hee hee...
I'm not a country fan, and I'm not exactly sure when I picked up this CD...but Ken is one rockin' gospel country singer....My favorite song is “Daddy Whipped the Devil With the Bible Belt”...Spank 'im! Daddy! Hee hee...
Ferry
June 12, 2012
When I moved to the Gulf Islands, I promised myself I wouldn't complain about two things...the rain or the ferries. Both are a necessary part of this idyllic island life, and if one was to complain about them...it would be a full time job! I love the ferry, though, in spite of skyrocketing fares and its tendency to break down or get behind JUST when it's most important that you get somewhere. I love the idea that I'm dependent on a boat to get me from point A to B. The ferry makes me relax a bit...what will be will be...if I make it on this one, great! If I don't, well, there's always the next one, and an hour to spare to do a quick grocery shop at the mall across the way.
I wrote a song a few years back, “Carry me Home to Gabriola” about the ferry ride. I especially love it when it's taking me home.
In mythology there is a final ferry which carries you over the River Styx to the Afterlife. It's important to have the right fare for that journey as well. I remember as a child, hearing a story of a tribe of people who cut themselves deeply in the forearms, so that when they died, a light would shine from the wounds so they could see their way across. Interesting, the pictures we have for crossing that space between life and LIFE. I believe my fare has already been paid, and the lights will be on. Ferry.
When I moved to the Gulf Islands, I promised myself I wouldn't complain about two things...the rain or the ferries. Both are a necessary part of this idyllic island life, and if one was to complain about them...it would be a full time job! I love the ferry, though, in spite of skyrocketing fares and its tendency to break down or get behind JUST when it's most important that you get somewhere. I love the idea that I'm dependent on a boat to get me from point A to B. The ferry makes me relax a bit...what will be will be...if I make it on this one, great! If I don't, well, there's always the next one, and an hour to spare to do a quick grocery shop at the mall across the way.
I wrote a song a few years back, “Carry me Home to Gabriola” about the ferry ride. I especially love it when it's taking me home.
In mythology there is a final ferry which carries you over the River Styx to the Afterlife. It's important to have the right fare for that journey as well. I remember as a child, hearing a story of a tribe of people who cut themselves deeply in the forearms, so that when they died, a light would shine from the wounds so they could see their way across. Interesting, the pictures we have for crossing that space between life and LIFE. I believe my fare has already been paid, and the lights will be on. Ferry.
Fan
June 11, 2012
The Philippines is a hot place to live. It is a place where you sweat when you're sitting, and everyone stops working between about noon and 3:00 pm, and has a siesta under the nearest shade tree, because it's just too skizzling to do much of anything else. Sometimes, during the hottest season, we would lay in bed and sweat. Of course, fans were a big part of our lives. Unfortunately, the generator would be turned off at 9:00 PM, so any relief from the fan would end.
When we went to the big city, and stayed at the "Guest House", the fans went all night. That was heaven! We would sleep with the gentle hum of the fan oscillating its cooling breeze across our bodies...back and forth....back and forth...back and forth...
I've discovered I need the fan to sleep again. I laughed to find out that at least two of my 3 siblings have to have a fan on at night to sleep as well, although my sister now has an "app" that makes the same sound...cheater. The drone of the fan is another one of those sounds that means "sleep" to me...like the rain, and the ocean waves, the crickets and the wind in the leaves. Fan.
The Philippines is a hot place to live. It is a place where you sweat when you're sitting, and everyone stops working between about noon and 3:00 pm, and has a siesta under the nearest shade tree, because it's just too skizzling to do much of anything else. Sometimes, during the hottest season, we would lay in bed and sweat. Of course, fans were a big part of our lives. Unfortunately, the generator would be turned off at 9:00 PM, so any relief from the fan would end.
When we went to the big city, and stayed at the "Guest House", the fans went all night. That was heaven! We would sleep with the gentle hum of the fan oscillating its cooling breeze across our bodies...back and forth....back and forth...back and forth...
I've discovered I need the fan to sleep again. I laughed to find out that at least two of my 3 siblings have to have a fan on at night to sleep as well, although my sister now has an "app" that makes the same sound...cheater. The drone of the fan is another one of those sounds that means "sleep" to me...like the rain, and the ocean waves, the crickets and the wind in the leaves. Fan.
Form
June 10, 2012
I watched the leaves in the wind today...nettle leaves actually. I was driving down a hill and noticed the way the wind caught them, flipping their undersides up and making them shimmer with the variation of colour. Then I saw the rest of the leaves on the other plants and trees...sparkling, shifting, creating beautiful movement. I am often stopped and stunned by beautiful things, the form of the arbutus trunk, the variation of colours in the bark, the seed heads that blow above the grass, the round, smooth stones on the beach, the curve of the water-smoothed drift wood. Everywhere is form; flowing, fluid, free...
I've included a picture of my beautiful chair. I paid a lot for it, but not too much, as it made me smile then, and makes me smile still. It is a still copy of the beauty I see in nature. It is a replication in cold metal of the flowers, vines and leaves I love....it has a beautiful form.
I watched the leaves in the wind today...nettle leaves actually. I was driving down a hill and noticed the way the wind caught them, flipping their undersides up and making them shimmer with the variation of colour. Then I saw the rest of the leaves on the other plants and trees...sparkling, shifting, creating beautiful movement. I am often stopped and stunned by beautiful things, the form of the arbutus trunk, the variation of colours in the bark, the seed heads that blow above the grass, the round, smooth stones on the beach, the curve of the water-smoothed drift wood. Everywhere is form; flowing, fluid, free...
I've included a picture of my beautiful chair. I paid a lot for it, but not too much, as it made me smile then, and makes me smile still. It is a still copy of the beauty I see in nature. It is a replication in cold metal of the flowers, vines and leaves I love....it has a beautiful form.
Surrender
June 9, 2010
I remember a sermon once preached..."just let it unfold". The speaker was talking about a rose, and how it will unfold in its own time. You can't force a rose to open, you can't make it beautiful by pulling at the petals and prying them apart. You just have to let it unfold in its own time. I am impatient, and like to "know where I stand" with things. I like to "plan ahead", "set goals", "make arrangements". Lately I've been letting a lot of stuff just go. Surrendering to the moment, not worrying about what "will be", or "what others think", or "what I should do about such and so". This surrender has not come without a fight, but now I wonder why I wasted time...in surrender is sweetness, a pleasant aroma, a beauty of restfulness, a delicate delight. How I want to fall into this and see what blooms! Surrender.
I remember a sermon once preached..."just let it unfold". The speaker was talking about a rose, and how it will unfold in its own time. You can't force a rose to open, you can't make it beautiful by pulling at the petals and prying them apart. You just have to let it unfold in its own time. I am impatient, and like to "know where I stand" with things. I like to "plan ahead", "set goals", "make arrangements". Lately I've been letting a lot of stuff just go. Surrendering to the moment, not worrying about what "will be", or "what others think", or "what I should do about such and so". This surrender has not come without a fight, but now I wonder why I wasted time...in surrender is sweetness, a pleasant aroma, a beauty of restfulness, a delicate delight. How I want to fall into this and see what blooms! Surrender.
Bare Feet
June 8, 2012
My feet are far from pretty, my second toe so short it negated any dreams I may have had of becoming a ballerina. I spent most of my childhood running around barefoot, from sandy beaches to hard, gravel roads; grassy plazas and cement tennis courts. We did have to put shoes on for school and Sunday morning church...evening services were allowed to be barefoot. As a result, I have a hard time keeping shoes on my feet. I wonder how many other MKs like to kick their shoes off and feel the floor beneath their feet, the grass between their toes, or the hard packed earth. I have ugly feet now, wrinkled, sometimes cracked, and usually rough and dirty, but I've been connected to the earth for most of my life, and that's worth the small loss of vanity. Bare feet.
My feet are far from pretty, my second toe so short it negated any dreams I may have had of becoming a ballerina. I spent most of my childhood running around barefoot, from sandy beaches to hard, gravel roads; grassy plazas and cement tennis courts. We did have to put shoes on for school and Sunday morning church...evening services were allowed to be barefoot. As a result, I have a hard time keeping shoes on my feet. I wonder how many other MKs like to kick their shoes off and feel the floor beneath their feet, the grass between their toes, or the hard packed earth. I have ugly feet now, wrinkled, sometimes cracked, and usually rough and dirty, but I've been connected to the earth for most of my life, and that's worth the small loss of vanity. Bare feet.
Home
June 7, 2012
I've been gone only 8 days. I'm finally back on Gabriola. I'm driving down my road, my driveway, I'm home. My dogs know. They jump out, excited to smell the familiar scents. I step out of the car, stretch, and head for the door. I didn't expect it to be so beautiful in here; the unfinished walls, old doors and marked, pine floors..curtain-less windows, and rough shelving.
Bright, warm, scented of herbs...magical even...almost every piece of furniture a favorite. I dump my stuff on the floor and head for the bed....aaaahhhh....I'm home!
I've been gone only 8 days. I'm finally back on Gabriola. I'm driving down my road, my driveway, I'm home. My dogs know. They jump out, excited to smell the familiar scents. I step out of the car, stretch, and head for the door. I didn't expect it to be so beautiful in here; the unfinished walls, old doors and marked, pine floors..curtain-less windows, and rough shelving.
Bright, warm, scented of herbs...magical even...almost every piece of furniture a favorite. I dump my stuff on the floor and head for the bed....aaaahhhh....I'm home!
Clover
June 6, 2012
I'm posting a picture of clover for today, because it was a lonely day, and the clover cheered me up. I was thinking about being alone; how solitude has its capacity for loneliness, or for joy. It depends on which one I choose. I chose to take my shoes off and walk barefoot through the meadow...running grass stems through my wide-spread toes...sensuous...I looked at my splayed toes and realized they had caught multiple clover buds between them, and they were decked with flowers...silly "toe rings"...downy, soft clover...padding for my feet in sunlit meadow...bee food, body healer, smile bringer...clover.
I'm posting a picture of clover for today, because it was a lonely day, and the clover cheered me up. I was thinking about being alone; how solitude has its capacity for loneliness, or for joy. It depends on which one I choose. I chose to take my shoes off and walk barefoot through the meadow...running grass stems through my wide-spread toes...sensuous...I looked at my splayed toes and realized they had caught multiple clover buds between them, and they were decked with flowers...silly "toe rings"...downy, soft clover...padding for my feet in sunlit meadow...bee food, body healer, smile bringer...clover.
Space
June 5, 2012
When we first moved to the West Coast, I was in love with the tall evergreens, the dripping moss and the deep shady places, glad to be rid of the wide open, "boring" prairies. But it doesn't take more than a few gloomy winters to appreciate the open spaces we find here. I'm particularly in love with this sunny meadow. It's bright, even on a cloudy day...kind of like my own studio on Gabriola...bright and spacious, light and roomy...space.
When we first moved to the West Coast, I was in love with the tall evergreens, the dripping moss and the deep shady places, glad to be rid of the wide open, "boring" prairies. But it doesn't take more than a few gloomy winters to appreciate the open spaces we find here. I'm particularly in love with this sunny meadow. It's bright, even on a cloudy day...kind of like my own studio on Gabriola...bright and spacious, light and roomy...space.
Clothing
June 4, 2012
Ah, the ways we humans drape ourselves. From the initial fig leaf and animal skins, to robes of satin and velvet and everything in between, we have found limitless ways to “look good”, or maybe not so good...
It was shortly after my first husband died I started to explore fashion, ways of using clothing to express myself. My kids were getting older and I had time to experiment. I've developed my own style over the years, but as I get older, I'm starting to settle into more conservative clothing again. I admit, however, if I see a “piece like no other”, I'm a sucker for it, and will pay the price...most times...Clothing.
Ah, the ways we humans drape ourselves. From the initial fig leaf and animal skins, to robes of satin and velvet and everything in between, we have found limitless ways to “look good”, or maybe not so good...
It was shortly after my first husband died I started to explore fashion, ways of using clothing to express myself. My kids were getting older and I had time to experiment. I've developed my own style over the years, but as I get older, I'm starting to settle into more conservative clothing again. I admit, however, if I see a “piece like no other”, I'm a sucker for it, and will pay the price...most times...Clothing.
Hawthorn
June 3, 2012
Crataegus, it's in bloom everywhere right now! Wishing I had my tincturing alcohol with me. Ah well, there is such an abundance of herbs here, I would be tincturing round the clock!
Hawthorne is a wonderful heart tonic and preventative for stroke and heart issues. Gentle and safe, the flowers, berries and leaves can all be tinctured separately and then combined into a beautiful heart tonic. Next year, same time, I'll have my alcohol ready! Hawthorn.
Crataegus, it's in bloom everywhere right now! Wishing I had my tincturing alcohol with me. Ah well, there is such an abundance of herbs here, I would be tincturing round the clock!
Hawthorne is a wonderful heart tonic and preventative for stroke and heart issues. Gentle and safe, the flowers, berries and leaves can all be tinctured separately and then combined into a beautiful heart tonic. Next year, same time, I'll have my alcohol ready! Hawthorn.
Hmmmmm....
June 2, 2012
I know...too much information...and I left all my "special herbs" at home...let the picture speak!
I know...too much information...and I left all my "special herbs" at home...let the picture speak!
OMG Boutique
June 1, 2012
Right on the main street of Ganges, OMG is a miracle of low priced and funky, fun fashions. I've never worked retail before, but this is going to be great! The hardest part will be trying to stop myself from buying it all! OMG!
Right on the main street of Ganges, OMG is a miracle of low priced and funky, fun fashions. I've never worked retail before, but this is going to be great! The hardest part will be trying to stop myself from buying it all! OMG!
Trailer Home
May 31, 2012
I've gone from my airy, bright, skylighted 700 sq ft space, to a cozy, snuggly, probably about 400 sq ft, little gem of a trailer. The addition makes for a lovely, bright work space. A place to study and stare out the window into the trees. I slept with the dogs beside me last night. Slept well with the rain outside, and how I love the rain, and woke to a misty, early morning wander with the dogs. After 4 hours of training, an afternoon walk through Burgoyne Bay took my breath away. I wanted to shout, "Herbs, herbs! How can there be so many herbs in one spot?" I must remind myself this is a Provincial Park...and one does NOT wild craft in a Provincial Park...hee hee
So I return to my little pad, make a cup of decaf, grab my laptop and head off in search of internet airwaves. I'm sitting on my friend's porch, looking out over the trees to a sliver of ocean and some mountains beyond...topped with cloud icing...
I've gone from my airy, bright, skylighted 700 sq ft space, to a cozy, snuggly, probably about 400 sq ft, little gem of a trailer. The addition makes for a lovely, bright work space. A place to study and stare out the window into the trees. I slept with the dogs beside me last night. Slept well with the rain outside, and how I love the rain, and woke to a misty, early morning wander with the dogs. After 4 hours of training, an afternoon walk through Burgoyne Bay took my breath away. I wanted to shout, "Herbs, herbs! How can there be so many herbs in one spot?" I must remind myself this is a Provincial Park...and one does NOT wild craft in a Provincial Park...hee hee
So I return to my little pad, make a cup of decaf, grab my laptop and head off in search of internet airwaves. I'm sitting on my friend's porch, looking out over the trees to a sliver of ocean and some mountains beyond...topped with cloud icing...
Adventure
May 30, 2012
I'd packed all I could think of in a flurry of last minute mania. Glad I'm back in 10 days, because I know I've forgotten stuff, and already, as I'm settling in, I'm wondering where my extra socks are, or a warm sweater...my favorite jammies...oh well, adventure is like that. I set out with something in mind and realize that the journey often takes a completely different turn. How our ideas lead us into terrain we never dreamed of! I cried because I'm homesick already. Homesick and happy and excited and scared, eager to learn and longing for the old and comfortable...Adventure!
I'd packed all I could think of in a flurry of last minute mania. Glad I'm back in 10 days, because I know I've forgotten stuff, and already, as I'm settling in, I'm wondering where my extra socks are, or a warm sweater...my favorite jammies...oh well, adventure is like that. I set out with something in mind and realize that the journey often takes a completely different turn. How our ideas lead us into terrain we never dreamed of! I cried because I'm homesick already. Homesick and happy and excited and scared, eager to learn and longing for the old and comfortable...Adventure!
Roast Veggies
May 29, 2012
Roasted till they're sticky and caramelized...crispy edges and tender centres. Leeks from The Good Earth Garden, golden beets and sweet potato...garlic, fresh herbs, olive oil, sea salt...toss with my hands....roast, slow or quick...roast till the warm, earthy aroma of goodness fills the house.
This is one of my favorite meals...and it's never quite the same without the leeks. Somehow they take on a delightful drippy sweetness when roasted. When the zucchini, eggplant and tomatoes are in season, I add them as well. This is summer to me. Roast Veggies.
Roasted till they're sticky and caramelized...crispy edges and tender centres. Leeks from The Good Earth Garden, golden beets and sweet potato...garlic, fresh herbs, olive oil, sea salt...toss with my hands....roast, slow or quick...roast till the warm, earthy aroma of goodness fills the house.
This is one of my favorite meals...and it's never quite the same without the leeks. Somehow they take on a delightful drippy sweetness when roasted. When the zucchini, eggplant and tomatoes are in season, I add them as well. This is summer to me. Roast Veggies.
Herbs
May 28, 2012
Wild crafting heaven! Herbs.
Wild crafting heaven! Herbs.
Mint
May 27, 2012
A myriad of varieties, a staple for teas, cooling, soothing, calming, uplifting. I'm drying mint today...harvested in the cool of the morning, to retain the valuable volatile oils. A quick sanitizing bath and it's sitting on screens and hanging till the water is gone, then it's off to the drying room till it gets crispy, crunchy dry.
Mint on fingers, and permeating the room...breathe it in, cool, crisp. Mint!
A myriad of varieties, a staple for teas, cooling, soothing, calming, uplifting. I'm drying mint today...harvested in the cool of the morning, to retain the valuable volatile oils. A quick sanitizing bath and it's sitting on screens and hanging till the water is gone, then it's off to the drying room till it gets crispy, crunchy dry.
Mint on fingers, and permeating the room...breathe it in, cool, crisp. Mint!
Market
May 26, 2012
We gather together weekly when the weather gets warm. Hopes are high and tables are assembled, the "goods" placed carefully. How often we're rewarded with interest and community conversation. Chatting with someone we haven't seen since last fall, catching up on the latest neighborhood information...who's left the island, who's new here...new babies, new couples, new artisans, and always the old, those who have been around for "quite some time".
Market day on Gabriola rivals some of the best. The produce is amazing...fresh, local, organic...the jewelery beautiful, the baking fresh and preservative free...I love market days. Even if I only take in a bit of money, the day is always rewarding with new contacts and old friends. Market.
We gather together weekly when the weather gets warm. Hopes are high and tables are assembled, the "goods" placed carefully. How often we're rewarded with interest and community conversation. Chatting with someone we haven't seen since last fall, catching up on the latest neighborhood information...who's left the island, who's new here...new babies, new couples, new artisans, and always the old, those who have been around for "quite some time".
Market day on Gabriola rivals some of the best. The produce is amazing...fresh, local, organic...the jewelery beautiful, the baking fresh and preservative free...I love market days. Even if I only take in a bit of money, the day is always rewarding with new contacts and old friends. Market.
Heaven
May 25, 2012
Ask a thousand different people what "heaven" is and you'll get a thousand different answers...perhaps a week on a deserted beach with their lover, or a hot fudge sundae. Maybe they would say that heaven is a hot bath and a warm bed, and for some it is a great meal, or an actual place we go when we die, or simply the idea of the unattainable. However we think of heaven, we do have one thing in common...it means something wonderful.
I'm a romantic, a literal girl. I believe in Heaven...a place where I'll see the people I love and continue with the things I've learned...a place like earth but perfect. A little book I wrote for my son put it this way..."Think of the earth, but perfect. Think of colours, but a thousand more, in hues that can not be imagined, and plants and fragrances and music...music...music...till you weep from the impossibility of it all and then laugh because it's real. Where sound is liquid colour, and colour is food to eat. Where music touches you like feathers and ice and a good back rub and you are finally REALLY awake for the very first time.
And the Almighty, O, the Almighty..." Heaven.
Ask a thousand different people what "heaven" is and you'll get a thousand different answers...perhaps a week on a deserted beach with their lover, or a hot fudge sundae. Maybe they would say that heaven is a hot bath and a warm bed, and for some it is a great meal, or an actual place we go when we die, or simply the idea of the unattainable. However we think of heaven, we do have one thing in common...it means something wonderful.
I'm a romantic, a literal girl. I believe in Heaven...a place where I'll see the people I love and continue with the things I've learned...a place like earth but perfect. A little book I wrote for my son put it this way..."Think of the earth, but perfect. Think of colours, but a thousand more, in hues that can not be imagined, and plants and fragrances and music...music...music...till you weep from the impossibility of it all and then laugh because it's real. Where sound is liquid colour, and colour is food to eat. Where music touches you like feathers and ice and a good back rub and you are finally REALLY awake for the very first time.
And the Almighty, O, the Almighty..." Heaven.
Bed
May 24, 2012
Soft but firm, silky sheets or flannel, snugly or cool...down duvet and cushy pillows... My favorite times of the day center around my bed...at night, sleepy, snuggling under the covers and drifting off. On waking, laying in the morning light, watching trees sway outside my window, listening to morning noises...thinking, praying, plotting my day.
What history has been made in bed...births and deaths, murders and love making, gentle dreams and night terrors. Most of us spend about a third of our lives in bed, we might as well make it good.
A man once told me, "there are three things in your life you should make sure are quality, because you're usually in one of them...your shoes, your bed, and your car."
I have a great bed...it's serving me well. I'm also lucky to have such a beautiful bed...my first wedding anniversary gift from my second husband. Beautiful to look at, beautiful to sleep in, beautiful to dream in. Who knows, maybe I'll keep it long enough to die in it as well. Bed.
Soft but firm, silky sheets or flannel, snugly or cool...down duvet and cushy pillows... My favorite times of the day center around my bed...at night, sleepy, snuggling under the covers and drifting off. On waking, laying in the morning light, watching trees sway outside my window, listening to morning noises...thinking, praying, plotting my day.
What history has been made in bed...births and deaths, murders and love making, gentle dreams and night terrors. Most of us spend about a third of our lives in bed, we might as well make it good.
A man once told me, "there are three things in your life you should make sure are quality, because you're usually in one of them...your shoes, your bed, and your car."
I have a great bed...it's serving me well. I'm also lucky to have such a beautiful bed...my first wedding anniversary gift from my second husband. Beautiful to look at, beautiful to sleep in, beautiful to dream in. Who knows, maybe I'll keep it long enough to die in it as well. Bed.
Cellphone
May 23, 2012
Technology...AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!
Cellphone.
Technology...AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!
Cellphone.
Fruit
May 22, 2012
I love fruit; the juicy sweetness, the textures...liquid crunch of fresh strawberry, creamy mango, pineapple rich with fiber and tang! This is a weeks worth of fruit for me (Aren't I blessed?)...and I haven't included the frozen berries or the jar of applesauce, or the pitted dates! When people tell me they get enough fiber, I wonder if they're talking about their two pieces of whole wheat toast in the morning, or the added oat bran in their Cheerios.
We use the word "fruit" in modern days specifically. But in ancient times, it was used for anything that was birthed from a living thing..."the fruit of her womb"...the fruit of their labor...and the ground brought forth fruit...
I like the word picture of "the fruit of the Spirit"...that somehow the Spirit of God in me can bear fruit. These "Spirit fruits" are even named...Kindness, Gentleness, Self-Control, Faith, Hope...you get the picture.
I'm thinking I want a good dose of that kind of fruit today...Fruit.
I love fruit; the juicy sweetness, the textures...liquid crunch of fresh strawberry, creamy mango, pineapple rich with fiber and tang! This is a weeks worth of fruit for me (Aren't I blessed?)...and I haven't included the frozen berries or the jar of applesauce, or the pitted dates! When people tell me they get enough fiber, I wonder if they're talking about their two pieces of whole wheat toast in the morning, or the added oat bran in their Cheerios.
We use the word "fruit" in modern days specifically. But in ancient times, it was used for anything that was birthed from a living thing..."the fruit of her womb"...the fruit of their labor...and the ground brought forth fruit...
I like the word picture of "the fruit of the Spirit"...that somehow the Spirit of God in me can bear fruit. These "Spirit fruits" are even named...Kindness, Gentleness, Self-Control, Faith, Hope...you get the picture.
I'm thinking I want a good dose of that kind of fruit today...Fruit.
Rain
May 21, 2012
Rain on roof, rain on leaves, rain on flowers, rain on trees. Rain. Another of my favorite lullabies is rain. I woke at 3 this morning to the sound of rain and got up to open the barn doors and let the rain breeze filter in across my face. The air was crisp with moisture and I fell back asleep in delight.
Rain washes away the dust and the dirt and the grime, on the roads, physically, and in my soul, spiritually. It feeds the thirsty plants and quenches my thirsty heart.
I moved to this Gulf Island for the rain. I had become so desperate for rain, I had put a metal bowl outside my window to catch any of the tiniest rain sounds we got in Calgary. It wasn't enough. When others complain about the rain, I ask them, "What did you expect.? You're living in a rain forest". Shuts them up, mostly. Rain.
Rain on roof, rain on leaves, rain on flowers, rain on trees. Rain. Another of my favorite lullabies is rain. I woke at 3 this morning to the sound of rain and got up to open the barn doors and let the rain breeze filter in across my face. The air was crisp with moisture and I fell back asleep in delight.
Rain washes away the dust and the dirt and the grime, on the roads, physically, and in my soul, spiritually. It feeds the thirsty plants and quenches my thirsty heart.
I moved to this Gulf Island for the rain. I had become so desperate for rain, I had put a metal bowl outside my window to catch any of the tiniest rain sounds we got in Calgary. It wasn't enough. When others complain about the rain, I ask them, "What did you expect.? You're living in a rain forest". Shuts them up, mostly. Rain.
Basil
May 20. 2012.
Basil the Brave...neurotic, messed up, psychotic...beloved black and messy dog... Basil. I purchased Basil from a pet shop, not a week after we moved to Gabriola. Probably a puppy mill dog, Basil was a sweet bundle of life, flinging himself around the room during the day, and sleeping with his neck across mine at night. Chronic ear infections plagued him for the first 7 years of his life, until I discovered raw food...he's good now.
Basil will be 10 this November, and he's been a true friend. He cares when I cry, he lays his head on my knee when I'm sad. I call him my "sorrow eater". He absorbs grief. As a result, however, he's a bit emotionally messed up, frightens easily and is generally "sensitive".
I love Bazzy, and hope he sticks around for quite some time yet. I'm not sure how he'll take our new adventure on Salt Spring, but he'll be beside me, loyally, faithfully, regardless what I do. Basil.
Basil the Brave...neurotic, messed up, psychotic...beloved black and messy dog... Basil. I purchased Basil from a pet shop, not a week after we moved to Gabriola. Probably a puppy mill dog, Basil was a sweet bundle of life, flinging himself around the room during the day, and sleeping with his neck across mine at night. Chronic ear infections plagued him for the first 7 years of his life, until I discovered raw food...he's good now.
Basil will be 10 this November, and he's been a true friend. He cares when I cry, he lays his head on my knee when I'm sad. I call him my "sorrow eater". He absorbs grief. As a result, however, he's a bit emotionally messed up, frightens easily and is generally "sensitive".
I love Bazzy, and hope he sticks around for quite some time yet. I'm not sure how he'll take our new adventure on Salt Spring, but he'll be beside me, loyally, faithfully, regardless what I do. Basil.
Painting
May 19, 2012
I have had a long relationship with art, oil painting in particular...I had a teacher in 1st and 2nd grade who inspired me immensely to be artistic. She encouraged every facet of the arts in me...drama, drawing, painting, writing. I BELIEVED I was good at it.
My father encouraged every effort and always got me the supplies I needed. I sold little art cards in 8th grade, and continued to create and then went on to teach as a volunteer art teacher.
I've dabbled with portraits, and even considered becoming a "Painter", when the kids grew up. Herbalism or painting? Painting or herbalism? Too many interests, not enough time. My hubby helped immensely when he said, "There are plenty of good painters around, but not so many good herbalists." That settled it, and I haven't looked back. Sure there are times when I like to create things other than teas and tinctures, and I find my ways. Who knows, maybe painting will find room in my life at some further time, but I don't regret my choice to let it go. Painting.
I have had a long relationship with art, oil painting in particular...I had a teacher in 1st and 2nd grade who inspired me immensely to be artistic. She encouraged every facet of the arts in me...drama, drawing, painting, writing. I BELIEVED I was good at it.
My father encouraged every effort and always got me the supplies I needed. I sold little art cards in 8th grade, and continued to create and then went on to teach as a volunteer art teacher.
I've dabbled with portraits, and even considered becoming a "Painter", when the kids grew up. Herbalism or painting? Painting or herbalism? Too many interests, not enough time. My hubby helped immensely when he said, "There are plenty of good painters around, but not so many good herbalists." That settled it, and I haven't looked back. Sure there are times when I like to create things other than teas and tinctures, and I find my ways. Who knows, maybe painting will find room in my life at some further time, but I don't regret my choice to let it go. Painting.
Tea
May 18, 2012
Zesty, mellow, tangy, smooth, black, green, red...tea...nature simmered and poured...sunshine in a teacup, or earth energy in a mug. Whether it's leaves and flowers, or roots and bark, tea is magic.
I've always been just a plain old, black tea drinker, but since becoming a Herbalist, I'm slowly learning to appreciate the different nuances of herbal teas. Fresh Lady's Mantle with Calendula flower, Rose and Lemon Balm, Peppermint and Licorice...Rooibos and Lemon, or a Vitamin C and flavonoid rich "Red Vitality Tea", all are bursting with life and nutrients...TEA!
To take your herbal medicine in a tea, is to also give yourself time to stop and breath, to meditate on the color of the tea, the aroma, the taste. The art and act of drinking tea is a medicine in itself...slowing me down, making me pause in my day...helping me simply BE.
Zesty, mellow, tangy, smooth, black, green, red...tea...nature simmered and poured...sunshine in a teacup, or earth energy in a mug. Whether it's leaves and flowers, or roots and bark, tea is magic.
I've always been just a plain old, black tea drinker, but since becoming a Herbalist, I'm slowly learning to appreciate the different nuances of herbal teas. Fresh Lady's Mantle with Calendula flower, Rose and Lemon Balm, Peppermint and Licorice...Rooibos and Lemon, or a Vitamin C and flavonoid rich "Red Vitality Tea", all are bursting with life and nutrients...TEA!
To take your herbal medicine in a tea, is to also give yourself time to stop and breath, to meditate on the color of the tea, the aroma, the taste. The art and act of drinking tea is a medicine in itself...slowing me down, making me pause in my day...helping me simply BE.
Mess
May 17, 2012
As much as I love a clean house, I tend to live either surrounded by, or cleaning up, a mess. One cannot be creative without creating a mess as well. Long ago I decided that less time would be spent cleaning and more time spent playing...I've not regretted it. Mess.
As much as I love a clean house, I tend to live either surrounded by, or cleaning up, a mess. One cannot be creative without creating a mess as well. Long ago I decided that less time would be spent cleaning and more time spent playing...I've not regretted it. Mess.
Red
May 16, 2012
I love my little, red ladybug of a Yaris! when we decided to buy my very first new car EVER, I did some research and internet browsing and settled on this darling. I wanted red, fire engine red, and as there were none left in the current year, we gladly coughed up an extra $1000 to get the red in the following year's model. How fun to drive away in clean seats, surrounded by that satisfying smell of "new car".
It has been six years now since my red sweety came home with me, and she's served me well. I'm not so good at keeping her clean (we once found a tiny plant growing out of the rug), but she's faithful, none the less. Hauling plants and dirt, GIRO finds or groceries, animals and herb orders...all she's needed from me has been a new set of tires, a fresh battery and regular oil changes.
There are new adventures for Red and me around the corner. Regular commutes to Salt Spring and back will be part of our lives this year. I'll get road insurance and a cell phone to back us up, but we'll be grand, Red and Me!
I love my little, red ladybug of a Yaris! when we decided to buy my very first new car EVER, I did some research and internet browsing and settled on this darling. I wanted red, fire engine red, and as there were none left in the current year, we gladly coughed up an extra $1000 to get the red in the following year's model. How fun to drive away in clean seats, surrounded by that satisfying smell of "new car".
It has been six years now since my red sweety came home with me, and she's served me well. I'm not so good at keeping her clean (we once found a tiny plant growing out of the rug), but she's faithful, none the less. Hauling plants and dirt, GIRO finds or groceries, animals and herb orders...all she's needed from me has been a new set of tires, a fresh battery and regular oil changes.
There are new adventures for Red and me around the corner. Regular commutes to Salt Spring and back will be part of our lives this year. I'll get road insurance and a cell phone to back us up, but we'll be grand, Red and Me!
Shoes
May 15, 2012
What can I say? I am obsessed with shoes. And really, what woman isn't? I am forever looking for the "perfect" pair of boots, the expectations required of them only being met a couple of times in my life...and then there's the color thing...gotta have black sandals, shoes and boots for my black stuff, and then brown sandals, shoes and boots for the brownish stuff, and then there's the summer shoes, lighter, but functional, but...then...perhaps I should get...you see my problem!
At least my collection is reasonable. Unlike the now famous Imelda Marcos, I do not have rooms lined with shoes. I refuse to wear high heels, so this negates many choices. I love funky and functional. Shoes!
What can I say? I am obsessed with shoes. And really, what woman isn't? I am forever looking for the "perfect" pair of boots, the expectations required of them only being met a couple of times in my life...and then there's the color thing...gotta have black sandals, shoes and boots for my black stuff, and then brown sandals, shoes and boots for the brownish stuff, and then there's the summer shoes, lighter, but functional, but...then...perhaps I should get...you see my problem!
At least my collection is reasonable. Unlike the now famous Imelda Marcos, I do not have rooms lined with shoes. I refuse to wear high heels, so this negates many choices. I love funky and functional. Shoes!
Clean
May 14. 2012
There's nothing like the feeling of being clean....just stepping out of the tub, or drying off after a hot shower. Or maybe it's a dip in a crisp, spring fed pool on a hot day...Clean.
We are blessed with our abundance of water. Although we often complain about the lack of it, we have oceans of it compared to many countries around the world, where women have to walk up to 2 hours a day, just to get water for their daily needs.
How interesting then, that water is also used as a picture of how our lives are changed. The words "washed" and "water" are abundantly sprinkled through the NT. Water, springing up...that you may never thirst again...Out of your belly will flow, rivers of living water...Washing of the water of the Word...
I once wrote a song titled, "Wash Me In Sorrow". A tad dramatic, I know. "Rain is falling all around, Can't hear any other sound, And nobody's to be found...Wash me. It's another cloudy day, Seems the rain is here to stay, So my tears will join the rain...Wash me. Wash me in sorrow, wash me in sorrow, wash me...etc....I know I've seen this place before, And I don't like it anymore, Than I did the time before, But wash me, anyway. River running through my soul, Raw, but clean, I'm feeling whole, Letting go of all control, Wash me....Nothing left to hinder me, Feeling sad but feeling free, And in this clean soil wisdom grows, From the awful grace of God..." Letting go of the dirt of this life...tumbled, scrubbed and spun...Clean.
There's nothing like the feeling of being clean....just stepping out of the tub, or drying off after a hot shower. Or maybe it's a dip in a crisp, spring fed pool on a hot day...Clean.
We are blessed with our abundance of water. Although we often complain about the lack of it, we have oceans of it compared to many countries around the world, where women have to walk up to 2 hours a day, just to get water for their daily needs.
How interesting then, that water is also used as a picture of how our lives are changed. The words "washed" and "water" are abundantly sprinkled through the NT. Water, springing up...that you may never thirst again...Out of your belly will flow, rivers of living water...Washing of the water of the Word...
I once wrote a song titled, "Wash Me In Sorrow". A tad dramatic, I know. "Rain is falling all around, Can't hear any other sound, And nobody's to be found...Wash me. It's another cloudy day, Seems the rain is here to stay, So my tears will join the rain...Wash me. Wash me in sorrow, wash me in sorrow, wash me...etc....I know I've seen this place before, And I don't like it anymore, Than I did the time before, But wash me, anyway. River running through my soul, Raw, but clean, I'm feeling whole, Letting go of all control, Wash me....Nothing left to hinder me, Feeling sad but feeling free, And in this clean soil wisdom grows, From the awful grace of God..." Letting go of the dirt of this life...tumbled, scrubbed and spun...Clean.
Light
May 13, 2012
Dappled sunlight; grace on shadow.
"In Him was life and the life was the light of man...and the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot comprehend it."
Light.
Dappled sunlight; grace on shadow.
"In Him was life and the life was the light of man...and the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot comprehend it."
Light.
Door
May 12, 2012
How many doors have I gone through in my life? How many of them have frightened me, and how many then left me surprised at the rooms beyond the door? Closed doors leave us wondering at what's behind them. Open doors give us a glimpse into rooms beyond rooms, full of promise, or heartache or ambush.
A door is an invitation to adventure, a chance at new experience. They do not promise ease or peace, nor do they grant you all you want. They are merely portals into more life. And who doesn't want more of that? Doors.
How many doors have I gone through in my life? How many of them have frightened me, and how many then left me surprised at the rooms beyond the door? Closed doors leave us wondering at what's behind them. Open doors give us a glimpse into rooms beyond rooms, full of promise, or heartache or ambush.
A door is an invitation to adventure, a chance at new experience. They do not promise ease or peace, nor do they grant you all you want. They are merely portals into more life. And who doesn't want more of that? Doors.
Molly
May 11, 2012
Moody, self-absorbed, dis-loyal, ugly, bites when you try to take something from her; runs away when you don't give her enough attention. and jumps into a complete stranger's car (hoping for better treatment, I presume). Molly, my Shi Tzu, or in this case, Heather, Molly's person.
Shi Tzu means "little lion". They were originally bred to double as palace guards and lap dogs. Pampered and pretentious, a Shi Tzu is a breed unto itself. Molly is the centre of her universe and woe to all who forget that...BUT...she also blinks sleepily in the sun, and grins a goofy, toothy smile when she's happy to see me...I'm not kidding, this dog really smiles! She's perfect baby size to cuddle up in the crook of my arm, and her mastiff sized snoring and carefree yipping through her doggy dreams is kinda cute. Molly is a one of a kind friend, albeit a friend who loves to roll in anything disgusting or dead or poo-ey that she can find...it is her chief delight!
I'm not really sure why I love Molly. Maybe it's her tender, spotted cow belly, or her pop-out eyes, or her spiky bangs...maybe it's her playful growls when I tease her...She's ten this year... I may only have about five more years with this crazy girl. I've been blessed with a sweet, grouchy bundle of nuisance. Molly.
Moody, self-absorbed, dis-loyal, ugly, bites when you try to take something from her; runs away when you don't give her enough attention. and jumps into a complete stranger's car (hoping for better treatment, I presume). Molly, my Shi Tzu, or in this case, Heather, Molly's person.
Shi Tzu means "little lion". They were originally bred to double as palace guards and lap dogs. Pampered and pretentious, a Shi Tzu is a breed unto itself. Molly is the centre of her universe and woe to all who forget that...BUT...she also blinks sleepily in the sun, and grins a goofy, toothy smile when she's happy to see me...I'm not kidding, this dog really smiles! She's perfect baby size to cuddle up in the crook of my arm, and her mastiff sized snoring and carefree yipping through her doggy dreams is kinda cute. Molly is a one of a kind friend, albeit a friend who loves to roll in anything disgusting or dead or poo-ey that she can find...it is her chief delight!
I'm not really sure why I love Molly. Maybe it's her tender, spotted cow belly, or her pop-out eyes, or her spiky bangs...maybe it's her playful growls when I tease her...She's ten this year... I may only have about five more years with this crazy girl. I've been blessed with a sweet, grouchy bundle of nuisance. Molly.
Music
May 10, 2012
My mother sang to me as a child and had a lovely voice...right on key and strong. She instilled in me a love of music and insisted I take piano lessons. My father couldn't sing on key, but was joyful about the noise he made, and encouraged my musical interests, buying me a guitar and making sure I got lessons in that as well. I have clear memories of standing beside my older sister in the church pew, harmonizing with one another to some old hymn, while the strength of my mother's voice soared above us all. In 8th grade I had a teacher who taught us how to write our own songs, lyrics and music, and I've never looked back. I sang my children to sleep when they were young and both have perfect pitch. I've sung in church and homeless shelters, in old folks homes and coffee houses, in choirs and solo, at funerals and just at home by myself. Nowadays my music is mostly for myself...I sit at the piano and play and sing and play and sing. I can't imagine what my life would have been like without the joy of all the music. It is said, in the book of Job, there was a time when the morning stars sang together. Lately, science has discovered that stars do make a sound. Is all of creation singing? The birds and crickets; the streams and rivers and oceans; the trees in the wind and the rain on the grass; the frogs at evening and my little dog, Molly, yipping her way happily through another nocturnal dream...it's all music, eternal music, forever music...Music.
My mother sang to me as a child and had a lovely voice...right on key and strong. She instilled in me a love of music and insisted I take piano lessons. My father couldn't sing on key, but was joyful about the noise he made, and encouraged my musical interests, buying me a guitar and making sure I got lessons in that as well. I have clear memories of standing beside my older sister in the church pew, harmonizing with one another to some old hymn, while the strength of my mother's voice soared above us all. In 8th grade I had a teacher who taught us how to write our own songs, lyrics and music, and I've never looked back. I sang my children to sleep when they were young and both have perfect pitch. I've sung in church and homeless shelters, in old folks homes and coffee houses, in choirs and solo, at funerals and just at home by myself. Nowadays my music is mostly for myself...I sit at the piano and play and sing and play and sing. I can't imagine what my life would have been like without the joy of all the music. It is said, in the book of Job, there was a time when the morning stars sang together. Lately, science has discovered that stars do make a sound. Is all of creation singing? The birds and crickets; the streams and rivers and oceans; the trees in the wind and the rain on the grass; the frogs at evening and my little dog, Molly, yipping her way happily through another nocturnal dream...it's all music, eternal music, forever music...Music.
Ocean
May 9,2012
One of my earliest bedtime lullabies was the sound of the ocean waves crashing and playing mere yards from my open bedroom window. This, and the sound of rain on the roof, will forever be associated with peace and warm safety in my mind.
I was born and raised in the Philippines, my parents being Bible Translators, and so, at the tender age of 6, I was sent away to boarding school, and spent much of my life away from my parents, and often in different dorms than my siblings. The summers, however, were always spent together by the ocean as a family...the ocean was part of that warm time of solidarity and closeness that we seldom had at other times.
I love the eternal waves...these waves that have lapped our shores for millenia. They remind me of how transient I am here on this planet, how little time I have to make a difference...to do what I'm "supposed" to do.
Maybe it doesn't really matter, and like the ocean I should simply be...immense, giving, upholding, sheltering, protecting, raging...and dancing, always dancing. Ocean.
One of my earliest bedtime lullabies was the sound of the ocean waves crashing and playing mere yards from my open bedroom window. This, and the sound of rain on the roof, will forever be associated with peace and warm safety in my mind.
I was born and raised in the Philippines, my parents being Bible Translators, and so, at the tender age of 6, I was sent away to boarding school, and spent much of my life away from my parents, and often in different dorms than my siblings. The summers, however, were always spent together by the ocean as a family...the ocean was part of that warm time of solidarity and closeness that we seldom had at other times.
I love the eternal waves...these waves that have lapped our shores for millenia. They remind me of how transient I am here on this planet, how little time I have to make a difference...to do what I'm "supposed" to do.
Maybe it doesn't really matter, and like the ocean I should simply be...immense, giving, upholding, sheltering, protecting, raging...and dancing, always dancing. Ocean.
Wine
May 8,2012
I started drinking late in life...44 to be exact. Coming to it at this age, I have maintained an uncomfortable relationship with this heady elixir. I love the taste of the sun which seems to be caught in each bottle, and the sleepy euphoria and sense of well being, especially on a sunny summer afternoon. But I also hate the way it wakes me up at night, interrupting my sleep; its ability to demotivate me.
After 5 years of telling myself "I should really stop drinking", I have decided I will accept my love of this beverage and just let it go. Wine.
I started drinking late in life...44 to be exact. Coming to it at this age, I have maintained an uncomfortable relationship with this heady elixir. I love the taste of the sun which seems to be caught in each bottle, and the sleepy euphoria and sense of well being, especially on a sunny summer afternoon. But I also hate the way it wakes me up at night, interrupting my sleep; its ability to demotivate me.
After 5 years of telling myself "I should really stop drinking", I have decided I will accept my love of this beverage and just let it go. Wine.
Beginnings
May 7,2012
You know the well worn saying, "The longest journey starts with a single step". I have had beginnings and beginnings and beginnings again, as have we all. Life is comprised of beginnings, although I often allow them to happen to me without my choosing rather than consciously starting on my own.
To begin is to be filled with hope...to begin is to explore new ideas, new friends, new places, new skills...it is never too late to begin, although there are times, at this ancient age of 49, when I feel there are some things too late to begin. I am, however, wrong.
Let me begin daily, and remember the joys of watching progress unfold. Where would I be if I had not begun my herbal studies, my demonstration herb garden, or even moving here to beautiful Gabriola, for that matter? Where would I find myself now if I had never consciously begun? Beginnings...let me see where they will end.
You know the well worn saying, "The longest journey starts with a single step". I have had beginnings and beginnings and beginnings again, as have we all. Life is comprised of beginnings, although I often allow them to happen to me without my choosing rather than consciously starting on my own.
To begin is to be filled with hope...to begin is to explore new ideas, new friends, new places, new skills...it is never too late to begin, although there are times, at this ancient age of 49, when I feel there are some things too late to begin. I am, however, wrong.
Let me begin daily, and remember the joys of watching progress unfold. Where would I be if I had not begun my herbal studies, my demonstration herb garden, or even moving here to beautiful Gabriola, for that matter? Where would I find myself now if I had never consciously begun? Beginnings...let me see where they will end.
Green
May 6, 2012
Springtime is green here in BC. More so than any other place I've lived. Verdant. Lush. Wet. New leaves, tall grass and abundant undergrowth. This isn't actually a typical green picture for BC, but the sun was so strong and beautiful I couldn't resist. The sun that shines on the "green" and lights it up, makes it come alive, coaxes the tiny leaf buds to open with their green offerings.
Oh that I could be green again every year...naive and fresh with hope and trust in God and humankind. Full face open to the sunshine that coaxes growth from a wintered cold heart.
Springtime is green here in BC. More so than any other place I've lived. Verdant. Lush. Wet. New leaves, tall grass and abundant undergrowth. This isn't actually a typical green picture for BC, but the sun was so strong and beautiful I couldn't resist. The sun that shines on the "green" and lights it up, makes it come alive, coaxes the tiny leaf buds to open with their green offerings.
Oh that I could be green again every year...naive and fresh with hope and trust in God and humankind. Full face open to the sunshine that coaxes growth from a wintered cold heart.
Moon
Evening
May 4, 2012
End of a busy day at The Surf Pub...two hours of dishes...helping my kids doing what they do...and now a quiet evening sunset, and the joy of a day well spent. Evenings with their solitude are becoming a favorite time of my day. It's taken some changes to adjust to the new loneliness of long evenings, but there are deep, quiet moments that are only available to the quietness of alone-ness.
Evenings. A time to assess the day and dream about tomorrow. A time to settle into peace. A warm snuggling under clean sheets and downy duvets. Evening.
End of a busy day at The Surf Pub...two hours of dishes...helping my kids doing what they do...and now a quiet evening sunset, and the joy of a day well spent. Evenings with their solitude are becoming a favorite time of my day. It's taken some changes to adjust to the new loneliness of long evenings, but there are deep, quiet moments that are only available to the quietness of alone-ness.
Evenings. A time to assess the day and dream about tomorrow. A time to settle into peace. A warm snuggling under clean sheets and downy duvets. Evening.
Study
Friends
May 2, 2012
Friends are a priceless commodity...a valuable gift without comparison. My 49th birthday...with all it's weighted meaning and symbolism, was celebrated with my friends. Four friends, all different. Sassy, loyal, grounded and creative...each one adding so much to my life. We, as women, have something that most men don't experience...full on girlfriend love! Heart to hearts that negate any need for counselors and psychotherapy. Eye contact that tells no lies...honesty is essential. We see ourselves in a mirror clearly when we're sitting across the table from a girlfriend with a cup of tea. "Don't you know that you...", "I thought you knew...", "Why don't you...". I am blessed with the friends I have. Loaded with love. Brimful with bounty. Friends. Thank you ,God, for friends!
Friends are a priceless commodity...a valuable gift without comparison. My 49th birthday...with all it's weighted meaning and symbolism, was celebrated with my friends. Four friends, all different. Sassy, loyal, grounded and creative...each one adding so much to my life. We, as women, have something that most men don't experience...full on girlfriend love! Heart to hearts that negate any need for counselors and psychotherapy. Eye contact that tells no lies...honesty is essential. We see ourselves in a mirror clearly when we're sitting across the table from a girlfriend with a cup of tea. "Don't you know that you...", "I thought you knew...", "Why don't you...". I am blessed with the friends I have. Loaded with love. Brimful with bounty. Friends. Thank you ,God, for friends!