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I braved the cold and snow to take my new camera out and see what I could do. Complete with tripod (no chance taken on shaky hands. You can see more of these on my Flickr site
More snow, all last night, and all day today, it just kept falling, a clean white sound suffocating blanket of fresh snow. Few wandered out. It not being walker or cane friendly weather, I stayed in at gazed at it through the window, although briefly I did go out to walk my dog. I negotiated with extra cookies to get him to come back in. He could have played in it hours longer. The city is ill prepared for so much snow, and most stayed home. It is lovely thought, especially in the pre dawn hours, then to walk the dog is ideal, acres of virgin snow and just us and the stars out in it. The sound of the city dampened and my happy Belvedere making like a snow plough with his nose.
aletta
I thought you might like to come along
some of the elders in a circle of love and support around Heather and Darryl
by Traveller
I attempt to never tell others what to do – preferring to use story and example of directions and paths than might benefit and enhance one’s life. But I will tell you all what NOT to do. A week ago Sunday I cut up a felled tree into 12 fence posts and hauled the debris to the street. After setting the posts I connected them with rails and woven ‘rick-rack. It wasn’t lunch time yet so I mixed three bags of concrete to patch a leak in the basement wall, painted a door, cut up an old gas line and installed a set of lights and switches and fixed the fountain pump – and wrote three poems. I was hurting quite a bit by then and decided (stupidly) to have a couple of drinks to relax. Later, in the hospital I learned that my body no longer metabolizes alcohol – even a single glass of wine will poison my system.
Being 62 isn’t as much fun as I thought it might be. Rats – I forgot to change the spark-plugs in the car. Take care, my friends. I guess I don’t know how! Creation is everything for me. Guess I am going to have to ask for help.
papa
In the Co-op the old boys meet. If truth be told the men are the real gossips in my part of the world. They used to come to the store at home, stand around the fire smoking and talking, reminiscing—couldn’t do much lying or blowing because they had all known each other all of their lives. (Except for Black Jack McKee who couldn’t help himself!) They talked crops, markets, politics, cattle breeding, old weddings, new weddings, soon-ought-to-be weddings, transport since before old Don bought that model A; how soon the wheat should be sown or the stage of its ripeness. The only taboo was religion—come to think of it I doubt any of those men had any. Only the women and kids went to church and when the women got together it was mostly talk of babies, sewing, new recipes or plans for the next fowl supper. Mind you those soon-to-be weddings got a look in amongst the women too. (This is for Faucon who remembers such folk) Fran
It was quite unexpected. The pick-up time was 1:30 P.M., and I arrived well in advance, but my rental was far from ready. Instead, all were servicing the magnificent super-models queue-up across the lot, each with its set of genteel owners impatiently hovering around their crafts.
Down at the very end, my RV waited patiently for service, like a caboose on a Bullet Train; a harsh introduction to the RV pecking order!
Experience would soon demonstrate the rigidity of this cast system, a world in which owners of vehicles similar to my rental were cordial, and helpful, where the gas pump became a place of greetings, mutual gas-price anguish, directions to the closest dumping station, and other helpful hints. Behavior, possibly encouraged by the rental company’s brazen advertising emblazoned across the rig, a proclamation of this newbie’s fledgling venture. Whereas the pilots of those palatial models nary cast a glance in our direction…I envied the size of their holding tanks.
Five minutes before closing time a heavily tattooed fellow escorted me on a whirlwind tour through the intricacies of my vehicle. Within minutes my head was spinning. Any attempt to slow him down drew expressions of impatience…especially, when I pointed out the empty propane tank they had neglected to fill. I consoled myself that it would all be in the manual, which as it turned out had been removed and replaced with a few typed pages of superficial instructions and a couple of numbers to call for road-side assistance. He concluded his duties by handing me the keys, pointing to the exit ramp and disappearing between the maze of vehicles. So it was that I threw caution to the winds and pulled out into rush-hour traffic on a major highway.
I was a fast study in determining exactly where the wheels were with respect to the traffic lane. This lesson was helpfully reinforced by the gracious horn blasts of vehicles to either side, and by incidental hand gestures thrown by passing motorists. I learned also to avoid the rear view mirror at any cost, as it only reflected the long interior expanse connected to the steering wheel. Once I mastered this trick, it was much easier to pretend I was happily driving along in my little VW Beetle.
About two minutes from home, I had a terrifying thought- The gateposts that guarded our long country lane now seemed impossibly close together. The words of an RV-savvy friend rang in my ears:”Remember to pull almost through the intersection before attempting to turn.” Perhaps this same strategy might apply. ‘Perhaps’ nothing… it was all I had going. Well, after several realignments, which backed up traffic in either direction, I took the plunge. Save for the morning glory vines that once covered the open gates and now adorned the vehicle we slid in unscathed. Of course having gone through this passage again upon leaving and twice more upon returning I get the urge to smugly buff my nails on my sleeve.
One cloudy afternoon he said, “One of my greatest regrets is that you no longer are free to travel to meetings and presentations.” I nodded sadly, for it was true. His Parkinson’s has painfully slowed his gait; long periods of cramped seating are unbearable. Planes, and even auto are impractical and I was loath to leave him behind.
Then, inspiration hit…an RV, YAH!! That’s the ticket…a bathroom close by, room to get up and move around and a nice bed to relax on. So, the hunt began, and ended quickly with the realization that here in the Mid-Atlantic coastal region, there are slim pickin’s when it comes to rentals. Truth be told, there was a field of one availability, a 29’ sucker that could sleep 8, complete with living room, bath, shower, kitchen, flatscreen TV, DVD…you name it.
Now, it is true, I am slow to release my grip on inspiration, especially after screwing up enough courage to broach the subject, and watching with amazement as he rolled the idea around in his head….First doubtfully, then speculatively, and finally the faint admission: “It just might work!” My heart leaped! It had been so long since we galloped onto the open road, and I then realized how lonely he had been in his solitude, to while away the long hours each day until my return from work.
Of course, I kept the exact proportions of the iron steed to myself, wanting nothing to fly into the ointment of this great adventure. ‘Sides I was sure that adequate instructions would be forthcoming before trusting me with such a vehicle…Heh.
Charlotte (BeetleBugCoffeeMug)
Greetings!
Step into my faerie circle,
pause a spell.
Hear this tale of the open road.
My circle is real, as is my story.
Lie ‘gainst the fresh-fallen leaves,
Sip cider from the tankard …
Your presence gives pleasure to the unraveling….
Love smells safe, like blue grass
love is the smell of roses,
the scent of home,
hugging loved ones
after a weary day.
Love is the perfume of angels
an evocative scent that drifts by
when we least expect.
peacebird
Oh Yes– when she was younger she thought, going to the hospital with pneumonia was a real treat–she did not take her knitting to the hospital and the nurse brought her tea in the night when she was crying because she wasn’t home looking after the babies and because the cool white, clean sheets felt so good and, in the hospital everyone seemed to be looking after her and she wasn’t looking after anyone at all.
a few moments in the afternoon with some of my favourite mammals
Candle light flickering in the warm air, the kiss on her cheek woke her though she knew there was no one there…..Consciousness drifting, remembering. The sudden fall onto wet, slippery leaves, browns and greens of the forest floor, rain dripping through branches chilling her skin and numbing her bruised fingers. Panic filling her mind, ‘Where am I?’ ‘You’re safe, theres no harm, no harm, all is well’. Gentle hands lifted her and cradled her shoulders. Together they walked the forest path, rain changing to mist as sunlight dappled through the branches, warming her body and soul. Stopping by a pool, her companion filled a cup. ’Drink’. Obedient in her weakness, she felt moisture course through her body, giving life, light and strength. ‘Where am I?’ ‘You have slipped through time and between worlds. Come.’ She followed to a clearing, a small dwelling sheltered by trees and a sunlit garden.’Wait here now.’ And again,’You’re safe, Theres no harm, no harm, all is well.’ The kiss on her cheek woke her. And though she knew there was no one there she heard the same voice. ‘You slipped through time and between worlds. Your past and your future is healed, with love. Love is all there is.’ Later, walking through the forest, they picnicked in a clearing, near a small dwellling sheltered by trees, and a sunlit garden. Following the stream to a waterfall, they gathered flowers along the way. She sat watching the bright dragonflies darting amongst the spray and as she half closed her eyes, thoughts drifting. ’They could almost be angels wings’ she heard a voice whisper, ‘Love is all there is’.
peacedove
Happy Birthday, Edith! love Monika (Imogen)
(copyright Imogen Crest 2006.)
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