Thursday, 29 May 2008

Good news. The big vase has sold. It sold yesterday. Encouraging. I was smiling.

Tuesday, 13 May 2008

Coo COo cool. co co.
la coo ca ra cha
cha cha cha
too hot these days to think
at least in depth
must adjust to new temperature
before deliberating

Thursday, 8 May 2008

Sunny times

Summer has arrived at least for the next few days. Sun, parks, happy neighbours, children crying for icecreams, messy fingers. Yay. Last night, Ben said," I want to sleep with my eyes." I thought it strange...toddler logic. But then, I saw the ice cube tray. So he slept with his ice.

Tuesday, 6 May 2008


I can't remember what happens at the end of Papillion. As I remember it, one man jumps...the Clint Eastwood type... and the other one decides it's better to stay behind and tend his garden. He'd lose his glasses if he jumped anyway. They'd be repaired so many times. The impact of hitting the surface from fifty feet up would have cracked the lenses completely. And his roses were coming in and the vegetable garden was yielding something. No need for excuses when a person is content.

All lives have jumping off points. They are offered to us just for a while just while the tide is right. A little door quietly ajar, not open, not closed. Some are points we have created ourselves secretly wanting. We've been striving for it...walking or running,back flipping, back stroking towards this point which requires a final sweeping gesture of acceptance....that feels like jumping off a cliff... and then....some are points offered to us created by other people who toiled along side us. Some of us jump and some stay behind. If you jump, you just have to go and do it all again. Until you feel that way....that in jumping, you only have to replant the same garden you've already got...until then, you'll keep jumping. If you stay behind,'s an equal departure which ever route you choose.

Monday, 5 May 2008

Dr. Who

Dr. Who. Definetly a cool theme song. It chills the bones of children under five...and over in some cases. My sister used to hum this song to me at night and it used to frighten me to death. I still recall the giant triangular white foamy sea slugs that crawled through the air...errrr. Such an impossible thing, but so real. This is my Dr. Who memory. Repelled and fascinated at the same time. I will try to pay more attention now as my son is watching it and I have to try and keep up with what he is talking about. He says, " His brain fell down....oh. He fell into the giant brain. He's gone. Eat him up. Tentacles....tentacles." Then he puts his hand on his chin and wiggles his fingers. He seems to love this idea.