Neck high in the snow drifts is just one problem for a short and stocky bulldog. Over the head scary snowdrifts bank the roadway but smell very nice due to high squirrel traffic. The laneway is short and filled with two cars but it has a build up of ice that slows grandma down when she agrees to a outdoors session. At the end of the lane is a nice little brown collie and shepherd mix dog that has the privilege of sometimes running around loose to play and provides a fun break from the day to day short walks. The rest of the day is a bowl in the morning and one at night, Sleep periods in the sun on the old brown chair, play with the treat kong for a few minutes, brief business trips out the door, sleep periods on the warm floor intermixed with sleep periods on the soft white blanket on the couch and sleep periods on the wooly blue blanket on the best recliner. Spurts of sudden activity randomly engage the little bulldog girl when the ninja cat appears from behind the bedroom door. Grandma is close by, cooking things, doing laundry, tapping on the keyboard of her computer at all hours or sitting, resting, reading and drinking tea.Life in the country is pretty much as expected.
Tag Archives: creativity
Sleeping arrangements are fluid and depends on who gets the bed or basket or recliner
there will be
when there isn’t enough
for both on the recliner so
to work at the computer is so boring and yet
that sleeping resumes and then television and a cup of tea is manageable
a constant supply of cheap food with pull
back lids set upon
a high level is tolerable
of laundry wind down to floor
mats and duvets and random
yet still there are bins and baskets and bags and general loose ends that are set aside while swollen ankles ache and frozen shoulder seizes
dishes are reasonably clean and dirty
in a cycle of day to day existence in the middle of this shift in family, possessions, luggage, pets and dreams
at the centre is a maternal management
worse for wear and exhausted by worry yet hopeful and proud
ignoring winter salt stains on the boots and the grit by the door for a little while longer until the sun warms and melts and the green shows through
perhaps revealing some
The dog moves back
A dog in a bit of a crisis because her father is soon packing
a light bag of socks
and maybe a change of business
a plane trip or two
her with me
Arrangements to pack up the dog for the final leg of the journey to her new, exciting and distant home, her vast collection of chew bones, her crate and moderately smelly dog bed have yet to be finalized.
She has no idea
of these plans except for the odd flurry
in her usually quiet and calm hangout
in the artsy village
change is upon us
When I see a recently retired friend, neighbour or complete stranger I rarely bring up the fact that they are retired. I don’t think I’ve really ever made much of the fact that they are retired as it really isn’t my business and there are so many more things to talk about. However ,when I am out and about and run into these folks I am almost without fail asked about how I occupy my time these days in retirement.
Answers vary. Sometimes I say I do artsy things but that really confuses people. Sometimes I list things like…I go to the theatre, visit friends, read, write, putter around, cook, take care of things, pay bills and play with my sister’s grandchildren.
This really concerns some people.
They wonder if this is enough for me considering that in the years previous to retiring from teaching elementary school, I worked non stop, raised my son as a single parent, dealt with a very difficult divorce, helped my elderly mother, lead drama workshops, gardened, walked my dog, supervised a couple of cats, had a tearoom, baked pies and tea biscuits for the tearoom, did community theatre things such as organize, write, direct and perform as well as volunteer for front of house, usher, set dressing, costumes, dresser for actors and promotion of productions, taught Sunday school, sang in the church choir, exercised with friends, fixed ( as in paid for) a never ending pile of old stuff in and around my very old house including several vehicles, rented a couple of cottages, drove up north on adventures to entertain my young son on his summer holidays, cut grass, did yard work, took dance classes, drama and professional qualifications courses, hung out with several very good friends, tried dating again with very limited success because I am a” jerk magnet”, lost a pile of weight, gained the weight back again, worked on never ending decluttering projects, scrounged and saved to put my son through university and support him in his theatrical pursuits and generally coped with stuff.
Now I continue to do theatre things with my adult son, enjoy my extended family, visit libraries “for fun”, read obsessively, blog, write a bit here and there, go to book talks, poetry nights, theatre outings with the girls, stay up late, watch foodie programs, cook a little, go to small farmer’s markets, visit a bit with my closest friends, supervise the golden years of a very old cat, provide dog babysitting for my son’s bulldog at the drop of a hat, do errands, fix things as usual, grow a few things, sit on my recliner, my porch and my yard swing watching the world go by, cope with my arthritis issues, try to be as healthy as possible and sometimes I even make it to church.
However, I don’t make a big deal out of finding out what others do in their retirement because I am a tad sensitive to the judgement of such an inquiry.
I never ask. I just write.
part of the day
a certain amount
the necessity brings it to the front of the line and it surfaces for consideration
something must be done and so
the cycle continues without much
nevertheless the projects carry on as usual
waiting for the relief of a solution or an inspiration realizing that although broken and run down and grinding to a halt
the main drive is to endure
Little child and I together
for the afternoon
with an age difference of about sixty years and we got along just fine
with the bag of folktales
artfully rendered books about nature, poetry, faith, mystery and fun
With the wind howling and tearing
the fence and vines outside and the sky
dark with power
we sat together
a two year old and another much older and met
in the place of books
A friendly and quiet place
with gentle words and warm comfort
Putting out the call,
writing up the bulletin, drawing the poster and gathering
Sensory games analytical for some
insightful for others
Listening to the inner voice before it dissipates ignored
Snow falling, repeating the warning in the words spoken, bulletin printed and sketched
postponed as expected
and yet the interest stirred enough to warm the inner voice
muffled in layers
Inspiration can come along in many ways and today it was in the country library. It was a combination of several things such as the neat and orderly setting, the book lined walls and the familiar folk gathered there . The author we all celebrated there today is a gentle speaking, delightful senior that held our interest and also charmed our hearts with her book launch.
This writer has been writing a variety of articles and material for many years. She is published and has been nominated for awards. Today, she read from her most recent book which just happens to be historical fiction. It is rich with material from her own heritage as well as her knowledge of farming in the pioneer days.
The energy in the library, as she lead us through the chosen excerpt from her book was the kind of sensation you feel when something meaningful happens on a very good day and all seems for the moment peaceful, calm and positive. Being part of the group there today and enjoying the overall experience I came to the realization that she had given me a boost as a writer but I think there were connections with everyone gathered there.
Respectful admiration, community and family support, good humour, down to earth conversation and practical discussion were the artistic vibrations resonating in the small but packed to the gills rural library today. Chairs had to be brought in from the nearby hall to accommodate the crowd, all of her books were purchased, signed and her own son gave up his own copy to a delighted fan and it was all topped off with a delicious cake ( made by her daughter, no doubt) and glasses of cider. We were all there to celebrate the love of writing that this author shared with us.
That is what I felt in the room and I can best describe it as inspiration. A young person in attendance today shared her appreciation of this author with me and it was glowing, enthusiastic and appreciative. Now, that’s energy!