Maybe in a way it’s like I put my grief in there too, and when I found it sitting, buried under a heap of all the things I hadn’t made time to sort out yet, after taking everything out, laying strewn around my small space, I dealt with the pieces, one by one, until that suitcase was the only thing left without a place. At … Continue reading Making Space For Better Things, Finally
You probably won’t be surprised to hear I’m up again well before the crack of dawn. It’s technically still night for most. I mean, I was zonked out by 8:30 last night, so 3ish am isn’t horribly little sleep. May have just been the howling wind that woke me, and not Irish with her cold nose (as I suspect). Windy out all day yesterday, and … Continue reading On Waking In The Night To The Howling Wind
Life has a way of pushing you to face things you had thought too painful to face. Sunday was supposed to be my gardening day, however, I was stood up, this time though by a friend. He was supposed to come over and help me haul bags of dirt back here so I could get my raised veggie/herb garden started – he never showed. Not … Continue reading Walking Past Memories
My goal is to find my way forward with a re-packaged set of truths; so as to reference them as a positive, and not merely as a negative aspect of my past. To take what was and go forward with it, but not dragging behind me like a satchel of shit. Continue reading The Whether Station
~♦~ I go out ~♦~ ~♦~ I come in ~♦~ It’s everywhere, all around are bits and pieces; those innocuous red Lanterns found on walks, and white bows from a funeral basket bring flashes. Here I can’t escape them. Every room holds more reminders of my time with Tim. I never did make it to the bedroom … tomorrow is another day. It’s not that … Continue reading Bits and pieces
We knew, we all knew. We had a campfire, the girls fished and swam every day, all day. Our neighbor had guests up that weekend too; with 2 little boys who thought my nieces where “taking all the fish”. So my brother-in-law went over and shared some of the bait they were using, worms from my compost pile. Continue reading We need more children’s around here | August 21, 2012
My earliest memory is (Mom told me my age) when I was 2 1/2 years old. I can picture looking down on a road, with really tiny houses. It looked like a miniature, make-believe place. Mom said she found it difficult to remember me sitting at all for that final time back to Canada. At some point on the trip I guess I had been … Continue reading Daily Prompt: Childhood Revisited
Ok, so I too dream of being a writer. Which I suppose in this venue is akin to admitting you like flying at a flight school. More on that later. First, a couple of stories. I always thought that writers wrote fiction. Scholars and famous people wrote Memoirs and such. Who would want to read about little old me and my life? Yet, why not. … Continue reading What dreams may come
There are rare times in our life when the planets align, the right people are gathered, and MAGIC happens. True magic. The sort of moments that become cherished memories. Those rare times when you are FULLY aware and can thus revel in the moments, imprinting them on your soul for ever more. There are times when you truly are thankful to be alive, to be … Continue reading A cottage, a bonfire & guitars = Céilidh
Some perhaps may be unfamiliar with “picker” as a noun rather than a verb. What is a “picker” you ask? Well, this is an individual who will go to any lengths to seek old stuff that others would consider junk. OH NO…to a “picker” (or “salvager” I believe in the UK) … these “things” are gems. Diamonds in the rough. “Picker Gold”. The whole REUSE, … Continue reading Bless his “picker” heart
Going through these events 8 months later is a bit surreal sometimes. In my mind I have to fly past all this other “stuff” and I really have to focus in order to get back to that place. Returning to these events and re-living what I was experiencing is … oh what’s the word…hard? difficult? … no … painful? No. It makes me kind of … Continue reading ‘To thy ownself be true’ | March 31 2012
This post is sort of an ‘homage’ in a way to things past. Yesterday was a day to open things up and see what is inside. I did go into our bedroom finally yesterday and began that difficult task. I started with the hardest of those things; the bags with his stuff that the hospital sent home. So I stood there in our bedroom and … Continue reading A Suitcase For Memories
When I say I have been a primary caregiver twice to someone who was dying, its technically not true; there have been 4x actually. This is the story of my first time. I was married for 9 years from August 4th 1990 to November 19, 1999. On February 14 1991 I choose from a litter of 4 kittens the little gray female one in the … Continue reading Shoe Monster ~ Caregiver Training 101
by PaulaB 