THAT KIND OF DAY

My feet are feeling the heat from the perfect fire that burns in front of me. I am on a get-away vacation for a few days and this is where I ended up. Milford  House in South Milford, NS. I am sure that this has got to be the perfect place... where I am sitting I mean, and the Milford House itself. My inside & outside surroundings are beautiful. A gentle breeze blows through the cabin as the fire roars creating a nice balance of warmth and fresh air. The lake outside the cabin is perfectly still except for the raindrops that disturb it creating thousands of little circles on the water. I can hear the rain on the cabin roof in a regular rhythm and the wind blowing through the trees.  I am happy that it has rained. It is refreshing and cleansing and  the perfect time for a fire. If it wouldn’t seem insane, I would go lie down on the dock for a moment, enjoy the rain and then come curl up inside. Instead, I might just go for a walk in the woods. Later when the rain stops I will go for a paddle in the canoe. I was not as brave as my lover who chose to  go for a padle anyway. I might get dressed today, I might not. IT’S THAT KIND OF DAY.

There is something special about this cabin. Everything about it reminds me of good things, like the curtains for example, they remind me of a childhood mother’s day project. We used Styrofoam meat trays and glued a squiggly patterned trim around the edges and pasted a carefully chosen picture of ourselves in the centre.  The same trim is on the curtains in this cabin. I have not thought of this project in many years, but it brings me good feelings to remember how my mother made such a big deal over it and pretended it was the most perfect gift ever created. I like the scent of the wood, the upholstery on the couch, the quilt on the bed, the simplicity of it all.

Last night I quite possibly had the best sleep of my life. Free from the distractions of everyday life. No Internet, no TV. I confess though, my radio is never far from me, but I even turned that off for a while.

This morning I made coffee in the BODUM, something I only occasionally do at home because of the rush of mornings. It was delightful and tasty indeed.

I might be forced to sit and read my book while I wait for my lover to return from her rainy canoe excursion. I can see her in the distance. I’m going to move myself outside now. I hear nothing except birds, wind, water and my own thoughts. I need to make this a habit.

AHHH...MONTREAL

This morning I walked to a bakery in Montreal and got me some fresh croissants. There was a warm breeze and the sun was just becoming strong. Then I enjoyed these delights with  some coffee and a good friend. We talked and laughed and ate and laughed. Good times. So much to be grateful for. Looking forward to some more time in Montreal,

Best Nap Ever

Yesterday I took myself for a nice long bike ride. It was such a beautiful, hot day that I couldn't resist. There was no real wind to speak of, which is great for biking, but every now and then gentle warm breeze came and went. I  stayed off the main roads choosing a nearby trail. I  didn't have to go too far to find quietness and beauty around here (Needed some of that). I packed a small picnic, a book and headed out. My intention was to bike to the beach but there was one place on the trail where I  stopped for a moment & looked around at the beautiful surroundings. I immediately made the decision to stop & rest for a moment right where I was. I pulled into the woods, parked my bike and layed down in the tall grass, took it all in. I was slightly overcast and the threat of a shower was lingering. I  might have welcomed a brief refreshing  rain shower.  It was so silent except for the birds. I  closed my eyes briefly to  block the sun and to my surprise, twenty minutes later I woke up. It was the best nap I have had in a long while, and who knew but my body that I needed one.I  ate my watermelon,  sat with my  thoughts for a moment, and continued my  journey. I had a new sense of  vigor and a renewed sense of appreciating  special moments when they happen. Our summer is so short, best to enjoy it while it lasts. I never made it to the beach. That will have to wait for another special moment.

We do not HAVE to March...Reflections on Pride week.

 PRIDE week has rolled around once again, and once again I have spend a good bit of my time pondering if PRIDE week is losing its importance for me. I asked myself questions like, Is Pride Week necessary anymore? We have equal rights now I told myself, and we can pretty much come and go as we please (At least in this country). I don't feel threatened when I walk down the street. Do we need such visibility? Do  we need to be "seen"? Do we really need a parade? Why exactly are we marching down the street anyway? Is PRIDE relevant anymore or has it  served its purpose?

Initially I decided that PRIDE week really has no place in my personal life anymore and that it had mostly become a reason for the young people to party. But then I considered how much of a place PRIDE had in my heart.
Many years back, after a series of life events, and in an effort to meet people,  I  contacted PEI PRIDE and through the committee I met so many wonderful people at a time when I may have otherwise been alone. I am still friends with most of those people. I considered the role that PRIDE has played in getting us to where we are today in terms of rights and freedoms and decided I could not  ignore this week as an "unimportant"  thing. PRIDE has helped so many like- minded people come together, have fun and most importantly feel safe doing so.

I thought of the young man who was murdered in Halifax a few months back, Raymond Taavel was his name.
And then I recalled how so many people who knew him through PRIDE, and even those who did not, gathered in the street to honor his memory  and how Facebook was full of the PRIDE flags as a gesture of solidarity and respect. Then I decided that YES, there  are lots of reasons to celebrate and to be seen.  No, we may not HAVE to march , but we CAN and that  in itself is something to celebrate.

Once a year, a week of celebration of something we may have in common, a week of  celebration also of the diversity among us. This is  a week to see old friends, to dance, to sing, and to respect difference. It is a week to  remember what PRIDE has meant to us in the past or does mean to us now. This week we can celebrate  the youth who can foster pride in themselves and not feel ashamed. They might not feel like they are so alone. This week is for the children of gay parents as they  grow up, to celebrate their lives, and their Moms and Dads.

I thought about the beauty and the simplicity of the PRIDE flag in all its glory and I knew that this colourful  symbol would be a part of my life forever, no matter if i participate or not. The flag is  ours, a universal symbol of promise and peace.  A welcoming symbol on any door or window when travelling, a symbol of unity and  endurance.

If  for a moment I lose my enthusiasm surrounding PRIDE week I need only to think of the  meaning behind the colours in the flag, meanings that do  not  need a week, but are useful as daily whisperings for anyone.

RED for life and pride in our daily lives and the way we live them, the way we treat others. ORANGE for healing and as a community & there is no shortness of that  to do. YELLOW for Sunshine, which everyone enjoys, and the time we celebrate. GREEN for Nature so lets  respect what's natural in us and others, BLUE for Harmony which we absolutely want, and last  but  not least PURPLE for spirit,  so lets celebrate Pride week  in the  spirit it is intended , in the  spirit of inclusion, visibility, diversity, and  of course, pride in who we have been, in who we are and who we might become.

 HAPPY PRIDE WEEK

Been Busy

Hi  Everyone,

I have not forgotten that I maintain a blog. I have been busy with all sorts of  great things. I have been writing a lot and am very happy about that. I'll be back soon I  promise, stay tuned! One of these days I  may be organized enough to   write posts in advance...but for now, please be patient.
Za

My Lovely New Agenda

This morning I accidentally  started my day an hour early. I woke up at 3:50 thinking it was 4:50 and got up. I found my workout clothes in the dark (strategically placed the night before), made my way to the kitchen, fed the cat, got the coffee underway and headed to the basement to workout. I am off to a great start in 2012 I think to myself.
Now, with all my morning preparations done I have an hour to spare and feel I  should utilize it wisely.
The start of a new year, a contemplative time. Rose Vaughan is on the radio singing Stone, Sand, Sea and Sky. She has such a beautiful, contemplative voice. 
I'm listening to that woman who hosts Halifax's CBC radio early morning program. Gawd, I should know her name. Right, Louise Renault, That's her name. She has a great radio voice for this time of day. Listening to her first thing in the morning is great. She has such a soothing gentle "time to get up soon" voice. She's on for 20 minutes or so before our local program kicks in and things take a brisk turn towards a "GET UP NOW!" kind of voice.

Yup...The frenzy of the season (whatever this means to you) has passed and now we look forward... Most of us thinking about goals and objectives for a minute.
Some of mine that I would like to share:
*USE MY  LOVELY NEW AGENDA (SEE ABOVE PIC)
*MANUSCRIPT ( PUT ONE TOGETHER)
*REMEMBER BIRTHDAYS
*DON'T PROCRASTINATE SO MUCH
*ENJOY WINTER
*WORK TOWARDS DOING A CARTWHEEL AT SOME POINT IN THE NEXT 7 YEARS (BEFORE 50)_
*BLOG MORE
* MAKE MORE SOUP
*WEAR RED TIGHTS AT SOME POINT
*DECREASE THE SIZE OF MY PANTS.
*ORGANIZE MY FILING CABINET
*THROW OUT THE ODD SOCKS
*MORE YOGA PRACTICE
*MORE CONTACT WITH FAMILY
*MAKE A TOFU CHEESE CAKE
*IF SOMEONE IS IMPORTANT TO ME i WILL LET THEM KNOW
*SING MORE, DANCE MORE
Well, guess that's enough for now. These seem doable. 
I love the freshness of a new year, like the first page of a  new journal.

Yuletide tale #2

As I  sit here this quiet morning, still dark outside, candles lit, listening to my favorite early morning radio, contemplating hauling the decorations from the basement, where to place the tree (waiting on the deck), how to decorate, glancing occasionally at my neighbor's house directly across the street. He leaves one Christmas light on in each window all night, part of me wonders about all this fuss, while another part of me enjoys the feeling of Christmas for so many reasons. 

Oh come all ye Faithful in bag pipes on my radio show now. I feel all emotional...the pipes get me every time, no matter what the season or the song. The house smells great. Before I sat this morning I made some orange spice muffins. Now a medley of Anne Murray Christmas tunes. Gawd, I need to avoid writing during PMS stage!  There is a beautiful fox peacefully resting on our lawn. The cat is mesmerized by the still fox. He's been there a while now. I note he has injured his back right leg. He is limping when he first moves...but then he runs away. I want to help him, but know I can't. He is quite capable of helping himself.  This has nothing to  do with anything Christmassy but is is a part of my moment so I  thought I'd throw it in. My coffee is  delightful...warmimg.Yes, this is what I like about Christmas...warm feelings...fond memories.

Really I am not sure about the whole virgin birth Jesus Christ thing, though I know this story brings people hope and well, as a story, what a best seller.

I've spent  a good bit of time trying to "celebrate" this time of year in a way that I feel good about.  I've tended to move away from Jesus and Santa and more towards  snow figures and Solstice. It's hard though you know because, well my own experiences at this time of the year revolve around those two so I can't write them off altogether. 

pause...sigh

My earliest memory of Christmas involves my mother convincing me that she and my cousin had just seen Santa and his reindeer flying through the sky and then landing on the house next door as they sat in the window watching the snow fall, playing cards and sucking back a Rothmans. All such a comfort as the wood stove in the kitchen warmed us up and baked our bread. This was her way of getting me to bed I guess...She had me so convinced of it that I actually saw them myself. They were real at that moment and it was magic and wonderful. It helped my mother's case that the announcer on VOCM radio was saying that there had just been a sighting of Santa and his reindeer in the St. John's area. I was a bit freaked out, took this all very seriously, ran up the old stairs and jumped right into bed beside my big brother and tried to force myself to fall asleep before him.

I have no memory of the next morning so unfortunately I have to end that part of the story here but lets assume Santa did arrive and I did have a present the next morning. I even had heard the thump when he landed on our roof & fell through the chimney. I still believe I saw Santa and his reindeer that night...I did, real or imagined...I saw them and I will always have my mother to thank for that magical moment whatever her motives might have been. This one my one and only sighting of Santa. I was probably five years old but it seems like yesterday. I remember it as if it was real. My mother was quite skilled in making imagined things become real.

Years later When I was nine I found two garbage bags in my parent's closet, both full of toys and Christmas things which I immediately knew were for me, my brother and my new little sister. I knew they were from Santa. At that moment I knew that Santa must not be real, but I carefully placed the bags back in the exact position I found them just in case Santa had just stored them there because he might run out of space or something. I knew not to mention this and although inside I knew it was all a lie, I carried on the next day pretending to believe.

After all, that was the year I received Hugo Man of A thousand Faces, a Makin Faces clown make up kit and a gigantic colouring book almost as big as me, so even if Santa did not exist...well, I still believed in him. Nobody ever told me Santa was not real. I just knew. It was still like magic to me though, I went to bed crayonless, I woke up to find 64 brand new fresh Crayola crayons to compliment my new colouring book.And ya know, even though I know of course that Santa is not real ...every Christmas morning of my life I have been lucky enough to wake up to an experience similar to my new 64 Crayolas (with insert sharpener i might add). The Jesus thing, well...that's another post for sure. 


Well, the day is about to start so I must gather  the decorations from the basement, and and with each ornament i place on my tree I place also A STORY. The sun is shining. It will be a good day. I have two gatherings with good friends. I am blessed.