Tuesday, April 15, 2014

104. I Love ... Rocks

I didn't used to.
That sounds funny.
But I didn't.

I didn't give them any thought,
one way or another.

Then Newfoundland came into our lives.
The Rock.
It is.

And it's absolutely fascinating -
the formations,
the different colours,
the artfulness.

The first rock I fell for in Newfoundland
was on the site of 'Random Passage'
in New Bonaventure.

It was a long walk in,
too long for Brian so he waited patiently
at the car for me.
Along the way I spied a cool rock.
I didn't want to lug it around all that time
so I set it aside
with the intention of picking it up on the way back;
sure that I would remember
where I put it.
I wasn't leaving without it 
and spent far too long locating it again,
but I did.

And now,
every time I go to Callahan Cove
I return with a rock.
A little boy out there once questioned me
with great concern
'WHY do you have ROCKS in your kitchen?'

Because I Love Rocks I told him.
He said I was weird.

Monday, April 14, 2014

103. I Love .... memorable meals.

They don't have to be fancy.
At all.

It can be the simplest thing,
but it can be etched
into my senses.

The smell, the taste, the sound,
the ambiance, the people.

I often remember a trip
or a time
by 'where we ate'.
It goes like ...
'THAT was the time we ate at ....
or 'had the ....'

I was amazed to learn that both Brian and I
have the same 
'Most Memorable Meal'.
We have eaten a LOT of meals
in the 43 years we've been together.
A lot of great meals.

It was in 1975
on a table set up in a lady's livingroom
in a tiny apartment that overlooked
the square in a tiny village in Jamacia.
I can't even remember the name of it,
but I can see it,
and I can smell it and taste it.

It was not a restaurant, it was her home.
We had to order our meal the day before
and she went to the market and bought the stuff
and cooked it up in her tiny kitchen.
The table was the size of a card table.
Her two little children,
about six and eight,
served the food.
I had flying fish
and never have I tasted or appreciated
anything better.

A memorable meal
does not have to be in a fancy restaurant,
with a fancy chef.
It just has to be

Sunday, April 13, 2014

102. I Love ... our little hollow.

Back when I spent a lot of time
in the Outside World,
which I actually don't anymore;
I used to have a
physically 'lightened' feeling
when I approached
our little hollow;
our little dip in the road.

It was as if every single thing
slowed down;
as if I was entering 
a zone.
As if I was a bird
flying into a nest.

It's as if the trees
that run the length of our property,
are a sentry
to the chaos and uncertainty 
of the world.

we create our own chaos
within this perimeter.
As in Life 
it is not always sunshine and roses,
but there is still a safety and comfort.
A spot to breathe.
A spot to hide
if need be.

When I am away,
whether it is for a few days or weeks
or even a few hours,
there is a 
when I enter
Home Zone.

Saturday, April 12, 2014

101. I Love ... a Hug

I'm a Hugger.
I can't help it.

It's just a natural reaction
to want to embrace someone
I care about.

I love 
to throw my arms around
a friend,
my grandbabes,
my children.

I love
when someone 
does the same to me.

A hug
is a language -

A transfer of
 without words.

Friday, April 11, 2014

100. I Love ... my Locket

It was a gift for our third anniversary,
a gold chain with 
a gold heart locket
that opens.

It is
without a doubt
my favourite piece of jewellery.

I wear it constantly.
It has seldom left my neck
in 37 years.
On the rare occasion that I have removed it
to wear something else because it 'goes',
I feel naked.

On our 25th Anniversary, 
Brian gave me a gold chain with a diamond,
and to be honest,
I thought ... why?
What a waste - I won't wear it - 
I only want my locket.
I lost the diamond and chain.
I think it was inevitable
because I needed to get my locket back 
where it belonged.

Every one of my children,
every one of my grandchildren ...
ten little people
whose eyes have gone directly to that spot
from the minute they could focus,
whose tiny hands have reached for it -
that is what that locket is to me.

The chain has been repaired more than once
because they use it as a handle,
they grab hold and pull.

And every one of them has asked me to
'Open It'.
And every one has been concerned 
that there is nothing in it.

I tell them -
'there IS'.

I tell them it is FULL.
It is my magic heart
with unending room for

Thursday, April 10, 2014

99. I Love ... an eloquently written book.

I am totally in awe
of what some heads and hearts
can do with the written word.

I love
to read words
that have been put together
so eloquently,
so gracefully,
it is like a musical instrument
is being played;
it is like a picture is being painted
where colour and texture
transforms a blank page.

I will read a line over
and wonder
how they were able to put
words together
like that.

It is often not the story
that grips me,
makes me value and appreciate
the novel or essay,
but the words themselves,
so finely crafted
that they etch their way into
my heart,
my soul,
my memory.

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

98. I Love ... an organized Studio

Oh man,
I make a mess when I'm creating.
I pull out everything.
Paints, tools, glue, fabric, wire, wood
needles, pencils, embellishments.
Everything I make takes a LOT of
and I get it ALL out at once.

My studio looks like,
as my Mother used to say -
'a cyclone hit it'.

Before I get into a new project,
I take a few hours and re-group.
I put everything back where it belongs.
And as I do, I say -
sometimes even out loud -
'a place for everything';
I don't need to say the rest ...
'and everything in its place'.

I am actually well organized
when I take the time to be.

As I put it all back
in its place;
I always, always
something unexpected,
something very cool,
something I had forgotten
all about.

most often becomes
 the catalyst,
the seed
that starts the next

Being able
to see what you have
can do that.

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

97. I Love ... finding money in my pocket.

How cool is it
to slip your hand into the pocket
of something that you haven't worn in awhile,
and find a bill.

Change is okay 
if it's some loonies or toonies,
but a Bill!

You slip your hand in and immediately know
that feel of folded money.
that's how I generally fold my bills,
although the new ones are 
more difficult to fold.
I don't have much experience with
finding them in my pocket 

I slip my hand into my pocket 
and feel it ....
What will it be?
If it's a twenty ... bonus!

Found money.
Love it!

Monday, April 7, 2014

96. I Love ... that I was born a Woman.

I've seen and heard and read
about so many places in the world
that being a woman
would be a difficult burden;
where girls are not valued
or cherished
or protected.
Where they have no rights,
no freedom,
no opportunity.

I am so blessed to be a

I am able,
to live the life that I choose.

There is still fussing about 
gender discrimination
and glass ceilings for women.
That is not in my world.

In my world
I am just a regular person
with the bonus
that I was able to
carry a child,
to give birth,
to have the latitude in society
to go out and work
or stay home.

Any obstacles to that,
in my world,
have been totally self imposed.

It is a wonderful thing to be a woman
in my world;
to come and go;
to plan and dream;
to create.

To create the world that I want.

Sunday, April 6, 2014

95. I Love ... the Sunday newspaper

I have a Sunday ritual that 
I love.

A friend of Brian's comes to pick him up
every Sunday morning.
It's their thing.
They do it Saturday too -
thier boyish 'missions'.

Sunday though,
he brings me the 
"Sunday Star".

I make a second cup of coffee
and I go through every page of that paper;
except for the Sports.

The Saturday Star is immense,
80% of it stuff that I have no interest in -
houses, cars, jobs, GTA, 
advertising for businesses in the big city,
the biggest honkin' paper
that can start the woodstove for a week.

Sunday though,
it's a more manageable.
Good reading.
Entertainment, book reveiws, world news,
well written articles,
the insert of the New York Times.

It's a major treat for me,
to take the time
with my coffee and paper.
Totally, totally
than screen time.

It's my Sunday thing to do.

Saturday, April 5, 2014

94. I Love ... aprons.

Funny that I've never worn one
considering the fact
I really do
love them.

When I see someone with an apron on,
I think of my Mom.
The absolute only time she was 
without one
was going to Church
or to town.
Around the house it was her 

It's a shame they went out of 
They can actually be
very creative, 
a personal fashion statement.

You can tell something about someone
by the colour and style.
A painter's apron,
a carpenter's apron,
a baker's apron.

Every once in a while
I think of it ...
that I should make me one.
And wear it.

I should.

Friday, April 4, 2014

93. I Love ... the first day you can open the windows.

If you've never lived
in a 4 seasons climate
you couldn't possible
how that feels.

Months and months
of being caged in.
No air movement.
Oil furnace.
Wood stove.

That first day 
when you can open the windows
and let the fresh air in...

And get out all the cleaning stuff
and happily remove
that layer of
winter grime.

Clean windows.
Clean everything.

I love it.

Thursday, April 3, 2014

92. I Love ... dragonflies.

You wouldn't think I would.
You wouldn't think anyone would,

They're ugly.
And they're kind of scarey.

in Newfoundland they call them
Horse Stingers.
They really are afraid of them.

They look menacing
but they really aren't.

They don't swarm at you
like irritating bugs.
They are difficult to catch,

Close up,
they are so complex
that the ugliness is not,
it is actually fascinating.

One of my most memorable mornings
was breakfast at the lighthouse
on Ship Island.
Dozens and dozens of dragonflies -
more than I had ever seen in my life ...
doing what?
They don't flit like a butterfly,
they don't buzz like a bee,
they don't zoom or zip.
Flying sounds too common, too straight
 for what they actually do.
that's the word I suppose,
even though it's not a word.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

91. I Love ... the smell of fresh cut hay.

It takes me back.
to my childhood.

It takes me back
to the farm,
to the horses,
to my Dad.

It takes me back
to our kitchen;
figuring out after lunch
whether it would be dry enough 
to bale.

Standing on the hay wagon,
trying to keep my balance,
grabbing and dragging
heavy, prickly bales.
Pretending at twelve years old,
that I was strong to lift them.
I was.
Only for the first three rows.

And then I'd drive the tractor,
having to stand up
with all my weight,
to get the clutch in.

Riding the bumpy, squeaking wagon - 
bouncing on the hard wood on the way there,
riding high on the load on the way back.

When I drive by a field now
and smell fresh cut hay,
it all comes back -
a whiff of the past.

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

90. I Love ... jackets.

I am a jacket person.
Always have been.

I have no idea
whether they are in or out
of style.
They are MY style.

I just don't feel 
unless I slip on a jacket.

It's hard for me to get rid of them
even if they are 
shouting out the date
that they came to live with me.

Styles change and I will buy new ones,
but I have a tough time 
letting go
of the other guys.

I still have my pink, blocky jacket that
I bought at Macy's in New York City in
Seriously, I do.

A dozen times I have put it in the
discard bag,
and for some strange and unknown reason
I pull it out again.

I have no delusions that it will ever come back
into style.
And it's too tired and faded anyway,
but I can't let it go.