it was a perfect evening for using up some of our flood-damaged wood that had been accumulating in the fire pit, and, . . . for finishing a bottle of wine.
The Franklin had been feeling neglected, so we made her happy too.
Although I am not a painter, I feel inspired by the life of this woman.
Born in 1755, I would guess this prolific artist must have been quite happy and fulfilled — she painted 660 portraits and 200 landscapes in her lifetime, and died just before her 87th birthday. Perhaps it was the exposure to intrigue and nobility. Alas, I don’t have much of that in my life.
Alas, too, I missed seeing this exhibit in New York last year. I’m sure I would’ve enjoyed it.
Now I’m free to relax as much as I like!
Unfortunately, all my good routines and well-developed habits, got lost when I was taken off the rails by recent stressful events. (Yes, priorities have a way of taking control.) Read more
These days, with the setting of the sun, I start to look forward to bed-time, ever hopeful of a good eight hours.
Since the flood, though, this has been harder and harder to achieve. Read more
but, I’m using it today to mean taking a break–today I will visit my friend.
Here’s a fun little song by Taj Mahal with a hint at another meaning. 🙂
. . . the mess remains, so we cannot yet rest.
Marathon Number Five
twenty-eight degrees outside;
much warmer inside this suit,
and behind this mask on her face;
shortness of breath;
sopping-wet tentest insulation board
up and out the window;
up the stairs and out;
weakness in her legs and arms and back and neck and fingers;
physical and mental exhaustion;
hitting the wall and continuing;
determination in her every step;
a smile on her face;
twenty-six miles is nothing compared to this!
Haz Mat will travel . . .
. . . down to the basement.
To stick in one’s craw: to be difficult to swallow; to cause lasting annoyance, irritation or hard feelings.
It was early days, relatively speaking, in the drama of the flood of my home. Read more
After more than ten days of not giving up and not giving in, . . .
. . . and choosing to go without certain creatures comforts, and putting so much energy into pumping out water, we can now sleep much easier: there is heat coming from the furnace and hot water coming from the tank! Yeah!
Now I plan to have a hot bath!
Recently we’ve struggled through difficult times here in our community, . . .
. . . but Boy, Oh Boy! Do we feel lucky!
The Known and the Unknown
Locked in embrace, they dance furiously to a tempo controlled by the music;
Panic percolates just below the surface;
Hope tries to squeeze her way in;
Tears well up and eventually flow;
The tango continues.
It’s amazing how a landscape can change its appearance in such a short span of time.
Our small community has recently had a facelift–now we sport an exceptional collection of noisy equipment; relatively quieter watercraft; and impressive, multi-wheeled vehicles.
. . . that can haul 1 1/4 tons of sand bags and ford 3 feet of water!
. . . that impresses by its sheer size.
And to help me shore up my basement pool, I have this personal little 7 HP companion, which I’ve now learned how to keep primed.
So, I’m all set–for now.
Yes, we’re still managing–with a lot of much-appreciated help from our friends–old and new! Thank you, dear volunteers for all you do.
But, even though I try to make light of it all, I’m still worried. This is not a fun experience.
We are not experts at water management but still, as the levels rise higher and higher from the Baie de Vaudreuil, we’re all pitching in and trying to keep the water out of our homes.
Alas, it’s not working perfectly; and we’re struggling; and we’re trying our best not to come apart at the seams.
But, we’re doing okay.
… and we’re almost on the brink.
We are lucky, though, to live on an avenue where we all pull together and help each other cope: we slug around sand bags and drain hoses; we deliver sandwiches and coffee; we offer our driveways and extra sump-pumps; we share tears and hugs of support. And we manage.
We hear it often, “No, thank you; I really don’t need anything for Mother’s Day. I have everything I could wish for.”
A greeting card featuring this Marcella Walker illustration from The Girls Own Paper is sure to please any romantic–especially when the paper she is printed on has a textured linen finish.
Note that, for the time being, she is available in my physical inventory only, and comes with a blank interior so you can write a personalized greeting for any occasion, to Show You Care.
More often than I ever would have imagined, my children create small miracles.
I actually have a total of five two-legged miracles from them. And these five are delights that will forever feed my soul–I only hope they realize how much.
Today, though, I want to share a different kind of miracle: my daughter’s poem, Indulgence. It speaks strongly to me and, if you are a woman, it probably speaks to you as well. A man who appreciates poetry will also surely like it. Enjoy.
Margaret Mitchell, 1936, Gone With the Wind:
“Death, taxes and childbirth! There’s never any convenient time for any of them.”
Personally, at this stage/age of my life, I prefer taxes. So I had better get started!
Anyone for a cuppa?
This shows the results of some recent playtime with a smart phone app and Instagram.