Words on the tip of my tongue (or rather... my fingers)

I had hoped to start blogging this year with a renewed vigour, but instead find myself staring at the computer screen waiting for the words to return to the tips of my fingers.
Have you ever had that feeling, you've got something to say, words on the tip of your tongue but you just can't find them? It's a great way to describe writers block... because even though the words are failing you can feel them burbling under the surface.
I remember years ago, going on a poetry retreat with a friend who is an amazing poet (and I believe she is now the poet laureate of the City of Victoria... a very witty and inspiring woman!) Anyways, prior to this retreat I was writing away, trying to get something half decent on paper to workshop while I was there but the only thing I could get out was either too rhymey or too whiney. Yet after a few days of workshopping these really bad poems at the retreat, something shifted in me, and I came away with something I was proud of.
Recently I was at a Steve Bell concert and he, a songwriter, was talking about writers block, about heading off alone to a friends cabin in the middle of nowhere and how it took days of sitting alone on the couch, just meditating on the scene in front of him before a song came burbling out.
It'll be a few months before I can head out on a weekend retreat but I think that is just what I need. In the meantime I'll have to start searching for ways to have mini retreats: a long walk, a good book, a hot bubblebath, a bikeride through the woods...

Beatle-opoly

A lovingly competitive round of Monopoly on Christmas night at my brother's house went on for about four hours. We picked up Beatles Monopoly as a last minute Christmas present for the boys after playing a round of it at my Dad's house. (He had bought the game as a Christmas gift to himself and we decided to do the same.) It was a big success.

We try to keep up a tradition of family game night throught the year, but it doesn't compare to the fun we have when everyone is together, satisfied from a savoury turkey dinner with all the fixings, under the twinkle of tree lights, and a steady stream of Beatles tunes to keep us in the groove. "A very merry Christmas and a happy new year. Lets hope it's a good one, without any tears"

Nostalgia

This silver airplane ashtray lamp was in my grandparents house for years before finding its new home in my Dad's livingroom. My grandfather, who passed away in 1992, was a maritime patrol pilot in the Canadian Airforce and this piece always reminds me of him. I remember when I was a kid thinking it was so cool that the plane lit up from the inside, the light reflecting out the windows. The lamp feature broke years ago but I still think it's pretty cool . My grandparents bought this in Toronto in the late 1940's, when they were a young married couple, before they adopted my Dad, before they moved out West to Vancouver Island, before a multitude of milestones, long before I was born...

A View of the World

This telescope and globe are on display next to a row of windows in my Dad's home. Outside those windows there is a patio. Beside the patio is a garden bed. Beyond the garden bed is an expanse of yard surrounded by fence and a big wide gate to the road. At each end of the road there is a trail to the beach. At the beach there are barnacle covered rocks, waves lapping softly or ferociously depending on the wind and a haphazard collection of driftwood that has rolled up against the shore. Along the beach is the ocean and beyond the ocean a view of islands and distant mountains and an expanse of sky. 

On this globe my Dad's home is not even visible. You couldn't even put your finger on the street where he lives. You'd have to peer intently at the smudge of land that represents the 450 km long island where I grew up, to see the tiny dot that represents the town of Comox, with a population just over 12,000. 

And to be honest, you could look at the globe for hours and still you would only see Comox if you already know it's there. This all makes me think how the world is so big and so small at the same time.

My Haphazard Garden

This year I am really pleased with my garden. I am not an avid gardener but I do enjoy being outside digging in the dirt. This year my garden has offered me a refuge. I pull in my driveway filled with anxiety and I see a new blossom. My anxiety lifts. In the morning I sit in my backyard with my morning coffee and take in the lush greens, purples, yellows and blues that surround me. This morning quiet rejuvenates me and prepares me for the day ahead. It is a haphazard garden, somewhat like my life, and I love it.

Happy Mothers Day

I arrived home on Saturday afternoon to find this incredible bouquet of flowers on my doorstep. A loving note was tucked inside from my husband who phoned long-distance to flowers on top, our favourite flower store downtown Victoria. He is still in language training just outside Montreal and won't be finished for another few months. I love this spontaneous romantic side of my husband that surprises me with his extravagance. I love how much he appreciates my role as a mother. Sometimes it feels like a pretty big role to fill. Other times (most times) it feels like the most incredible opportunity. I cherish my three children and on mothers day this year they made me feel like they also cherish me. I think they learned that from their dad.

No Straight Road

Our lives are inspired by the dreams we have from the earliest stages of our youth. When you combine passion and hard work, then success is always possible. While no road is ever straight, dedication and persistence will always lead you to your dreams
Starbucks The Way I See It #63

This was the message on my coffee cup this morning. I was struck by the words "while no road is ever straight..." I have been longing for the straight road, for clear direction without awkward turns, but this road I long for is not appearing. Instead I am faced with the road to Tofino, complete with big trucks blaring past me and the occassional bear sighting ... Of course I am being metaphorical. If you have ever travelled the road to Tofino you will know exactly what I mean. It's a scary road to drive. But the destination! Wow! It is incredible. At the end of this windy narrow old-logging-road-turned-highway you arrive at paradise: the most spectacular expanse of ocean on Vancouver Island.

Finding Nemo

Right now my 13, 11 and 1 year old sons are sitting on the couch together watching Finding Nemo while my husband does laundry and while I work on the last of three essays for a course that finsishes in just two more weeks. I woke up this morning to a hot mug of fresh organic coffee and the newspaper laid out on the coffeetable right in front of where I love to curl up on the couch. Later, while my 11 year old son practiced baseball with his team and my 13 year old son curled up into another hour of sleep my husband and I walked along silent trails through the forest while our 1 year old son tried to eat random sticks, blades of grass and daffodils that I handed him as we walked, in hopes that he would be entertained in his stroller.
Life couldn't be more perfect than this moment.

Re-Weaving

This evening as I was writing in my journal and half listening to the CBC I had an awesome moment of synchronicity. I wrote "I really need to be getting on my way out of this rut that I am in, toward whatever it is that God created me for." (refering to my indecision over where I should be going with my school/career goals)
...and the speaker on the radio show (David Kearney) responded with "We are a patchwork of stories; stories that have been chosen for us and stories we reweave for ourselves. Through communicating our story we are able to unweave and unwind it and say I am not determined by this chosen pattern. I can reweave my life."

No Place I'd Rather Be

My friend Irene (the one in the middle) just sent me this picture that was taken a year ago on Galiano Island. (Look how small baby Eli is in my arms!) Four of us had rented this cute little cottage across the street from the beach. We feasted. We laughed. We cried. We laughed more. In fact we probably didn't cry at all, but it seems like the kind of thing we would have done. Irene is coming to BC in a few weeks and I wish I could surprise her with a weekend at this same cottage. I wish I could recreate this moment of intimate friendship. But I know there will be other photographs taken, in different settings, that capture the same intimacy and joy that is so vivid in this picture.

Preparing to Climb

I just received this picture, by email, of my son preparing to do some climbing at a local climbing gym with his youth group. What a wonderful shot! Thankyou to the leader who captured this image that is 100% Jonathan; serious, thoughtful, contemplative...

You may look at this picture and see a boy with smudges on his shirt and hair in his eyes. I look at this picture and I see a young boy preparing to climb. I see a youth who is oblivious to the rest of the world. I see a young man carefully following the rules as he ensures that the ropes will hold him firmly in place as he climbs to great heights. I see my son growing from a boy into a young man, and I know this is something he will do well.

so much depends on an old wheelbarrow

I have often wondered how much really ...depends/ upon/ a red wheel/ barrow/ glazed with rain/ water/ beside the white/ chickens and then I saw this wheelbarrow lying abandoned as I was walking throught the forest after a rain. As I shot this picture I created my own version of the famous poem by William Carlos Williams

so much depends
upon a rusty old wheelbarrow
that used to carry
wood
across the farmyard
and now lies waiting for the children
who will
find
and transform it
into a chariot for imagined adventures

Moral: what is old and discarded to one person is a potential treasure to another. What one person does not see anymore another may find and cherish.

Decorating for Christmas

I have begun decorating my home for Christmas... The tree angel above, a remnant from my childhood, is my very favourite ornament. I absconded with it when my mother abandoned our childhood Christmas ornaments for the designer ornaments that make her tree look like it sprung from the pages of an interior design magazine. In fact I thought she gave this ornament to me but she does not recall having done so. I may have to one day give it back as apparently it is also a favourite ornament from her own childhood.

The wall hanging above was a Christmas gift many years ago that usually contains glass vases that I fill with fresh flowers or floating candles. I found the white cones on sale last year and added the incredible greenery a few days ago. Do you notice the little red berries? I have never seen anything like them. It is quite a remarkable bush that lines the sidewalk into my backyard. I still plan to string popcorn and cranberries for the tree which is an arduous job but, like the tree angel, brings back happy memories of childhood Christmases. My oldest son has requested that we also string the tree with gold ribbon that he saw on a tree at a local department store. I have yet to put up lights outdoors but am enjoying the incredible light displays that my neighbours have put together. I am beginning to feel the excitement of the Christmas season, especially as my husband arrives home in two days after way too many months of being apart.

Home

I took this picture last summer as I took a walk around my mom's property. The house in the distance belongs to my mother and her husband, George. Where I am standing I have my back to three acres of trees. Behind the house is another forest of trees. Within this forest is a shady creek that runs throughout the year. There are some ragged trails to the creek but mostly you have to break through the underbrush as you make your way to the water's edge. This is the place I think of when I think of going home for Christmas or even for a weekend of home cooking and sattelite tv. There is always delicious food, a bottle of wine, a lively conversation, a cozy fire and a blanket to wrap around myself.

At this moment, as I am longing for home, this is the place I am thinking of. I miss you mom. Make ribs and caesar salad. I'll be there as soon as I can.

In Tandem

A few years ago I read a book about a man and his wife who would spend their holidays sailing together in tandem on two different sailboats. When I read the story I was encouraged by the idea of this couple maintaining their individuality while travelling side by side. I gave the book to my husband for our anniversary that year because I thought these boats sailing in tandem provided a perfect metaphor for our own life together. I still agree with this concept in general but these days I don't feel such a strong need to maintain my individuality. After 15 years of marriage I would be quite happy to travel in one sailboat together for the rest of our life, no matter how small it was.

The Annual Christmas Cookie Exchange

My friend Tina organized a cookie exchange which I more than willingly signed up for last month. This morning as I was frantically preparing cookie dough before work while holding Elijah on one hip I realized that I was out of eggs. I had just enough time to run to the grocery store, add eggs to the cookie dough which had to sit in my fridge all day in preparation for the chocolate-vanilla pinwheel cookies I was planning to make by 8pm this evening. Unfortuately there was a bit of a mix up with the boys schedules. I thought I was supposed to pick Jonathan up from Volleyball at 4:30 (which gave me just enough time to get Matthew to his 5pm guitar lesson) It turned out Jonathan's game went late and he didn't get back to the school until 5:30. I spent a good part of the evening waiting in a dark parking lot before retrieving my son, rescheduling the guitar lesson and returning home for supper and cookie making. As you can see I didn't manage to make chocolate-vanilla pinwheel cookies. I realized too late that before I refrigerated the dough in the morning it should have been rolled into logs (a layer of chocolate over a layer of vanilla rolled into a log makes a pinwheel design when cut) . I had refrigerated it in one big lump that did not want to be rolled into anything resembling a pinwheel. Always the queen of improvisation (which has something to do with my tendency to do things at the last minute...) I turned my "pinwheel cookies" into chocolate vanilla marble cookies dipped in icing sugar. Still I did not have the requisite 9 dozen cookies that I needed for this evenings cookie exchange so I had to make a little segway to Thrifty foods on my way to Tina's house. I checked the rules before leaving the house. Tina had requested that our cookies be extra special to honour the festive season approaching. She did not specify that we actually had to make them ourselves.. (Note: The store bought cookies are not pictured... The cookies in these photographs are all home made!)

It Doesn't Matter That I Can't Paint Horses

...as you can see by this sketch I did (a few years ago) I am an abstract thinker. It is not easy for me to keep within the lines; to draw absolutes. What I think is so neat about painting is that if I scribble and smudge at the right moments I can let the picture create itself. I do not have to create an exact replica of anything. I do not even want to. What I want is to create an image, either with words or pictures that brings about a response. I don't care so much what the response is (though of course there is a part of me that always wants it to be positive). What is more important to me about this blog is that words and images create conversation and conversation makes us grow and change in ways we didn't know were possible.

A Friend is a Dog's Best Friend

At the moment that I bought this book for my friend Jessica, she was at a different bookstore buying this book for me. Neither of us were expecting the other to be buying a present though we were meeting for dinner that night! There is a story that I will remember whenever I look at this book.

The previous night we were out for a walk along Dallas Rd; a popular dog-walking destination. As we met with various dogs along the walkway Jessica told us about the breed, temperment and tendencies of each dog we saw. We were all enamoured with her knowledge and hung onto her every word (as we are strongly considering asking a dog to join our family in the next year or so. )

On our way back to the car we met up with a woman and her very large dog.
Jessica said, "isn't that a..."
The lady said "No, actually he's a..."
Jessica said, "Oh yes, that's right. Aren't they very..."
"No" said the woman, "their temperment is..."
Jessica said, "Right. I forgot that. But they tend to..."
"Umm, no" said the woman. "They are known to..."

As we continued our walk to the car the boys and I started laughing and chiding Jessica that she really didn't know anything about dogs and had made up everything she had told us on our walk. In fact Jessica does know a lot about Dogs and she had just been mistaken about this one particular dog, mixing it up with a similar breed. But we had fun teasing her about it anyways.

(P.S. The Photo, painted by Jessica can be found on her website along with an incredible selection of her art. She hasn't painted as much recently because she is a: pregnant b: working full time c: illustrating a children's book d: all of the above. Her website is well worth checking out: http://www.jessicamilne.com/sam.htm)

An Hour of Waiting.

Still God often keeps us waiting. Face to face with threatening foes, in the midst of alarms, encircled by perils, beneath the impending rock. May we not go? Is it not time to strike our tents? Have we not suffered to the point of utter collapse? May we not exchange the glare and heat for green pastures and still waters? There is no answer. The cloud tarries, and we must remain, though sure of manna, rock-water, shelter and defense. God never keeps us at a post without assuring us of His presence and sending us daily supplies.Wait, young man, do not be in a hurry to make a change. Until the cloud clearly moves, you must tarry. ...An hour of waiting but there seems such need, to reach that spot sublime!"
-from Streams in the Desert by Mrs. Charles E. Cowman

tarry: linger or delay, stay briefly
sublime: of high moral, intellectual, or spiritual value

It is not easy to tarry when I am longing strike our tent and set off looking for that place sublime. I opened up my devotional book to this excerpt today and it was as if these words were written just for me.

Priorities...

Priorities? What are mine? I am seriously contemplating going back to work. I am hesitating on two levels.

One: My husband is away until mid-December. Though I have an awesome support network of friends and family to call on (ie: lean on) when necessary the reality is that I am parenting 3 boys, ages 1-13 on my own. Could I maintain my sense of humour and charming disposition if I add the demands of a new job to my busy schedule.

Two: There are some big transitions coming up in the near future. (ie: moving to a new and as yet unknown city) But the move might be a long way off. Do I hold off going back to work until our life is more settled or do I (gulp) admit that this is about as settled as it is going to get for a long while?

ok, there are more than two levels that I am hesitating on...

Three: I (gulp) have a long held ambition of pursuing a career as a freelance writer/journalist. To this end I am working steadily on my English Degree and hope to pursue a more specialized education (either as a journalist or a teacher) when our life is more settled... (italics added to emphasize the irony(?) of our life being settled. Is there really such a thing as settled? What does that mean anyways? I don't know if irony is the right word but I couldn't think of a better one.) If I go back to work I would not be working in this field as I have no experience or education to qualify me for it. Well, that is not completely true. I do have some experience but not enough to get me a job that pays for food, gas, tuition and daycare which is what I need. To earn an actual paycheque I would have to return to work that I know: clerical work and/or customer service and/or retail work... I could attempt an unqualified leap into the freelance writing arena but wonder if I have the stamina and ambition necessary to be self employed. As I said to a friend the other day, "it is great to imagine being your own boss when you are planning coffee breaks, etc. The hard part comes when you actually have to get assertive and make yourself get down to work."

Four: I have not forgotten that I am mother to an incredibly charming one year old boy. I know some people in my life might balk to think that I am not 100% satisfied with my role as a stay at home mother. I love the time I spend with my son. I just think I would love that time with my son more if I knew I was not sacrificing my own personal goals to stay at home with him. I am not looking to work an intensely full time job. I'm looking for a balance. Perhaps I will spend my mornings working part time and studying part-time and leave my late afternoons and evenings free to enjoy the energy and enthusiasm of my three incredibly talented and diverse sons. That is my ideal goal. I just have to figure out how to make it work.