…which is better than losing face or maybe even Faith. I don’t know if there are parameters for things like – too much snow, too much grey, too much idle time, too much dark…. the list goes on. In fact, I have lost count of the number of – 1. Waves of this pandemic. I […]
…..personally, I love masks, masques, disguise, pretence, theatre, Commedia Dell’arte. There is a certain intrigue about hiding, being secretive, pretending to be something you are not. Actors do this on a daily bases and call it entertainment. For them, it’s a job – a very well paying job. OK, this pandemic has brought the concept
….. Canada Geese particularly. I was in a suburban area of Toronto the other day, waiting for a friend, when I saw this parade of geese come over a rise on the west side of a busy north-south thoroughfare. They walked towards the road, stepped into traffic, waited for the cars to stop and then
Our writing word again, after a break, is “ongoing.” Certainly this lock down for the pandemic has been ongoing, but we keep going on. We keep believing that it will all be over soon and that we will get back to “almost normal” before we know it. I think we have to keep believing this,
As we work (or not, as the case may be) through this lock down, I am reminded of the need to have purposeful activity. Day 3 of my 27 day writing exercise was a poem about saving an ant. Well, I have too many ants and more than a dozen ant traps in the house
…..snow in May. He is angry – very angry. OK, I’m not much of a believer, but there are times when I feel that the cosmos is trying to tell us something. Mute nature, finds ways of communicating. Time to listen to the snowflakes. Poets have been trying to tell us for years, that we
During the shut down for this pandemic, retail has “kept a light on” by doing curb-side pick up, as well as, shipping out and deliveries. I have ordered a few things on-line and specified curb-side pick up. Well, spell checker decided to change “curbside” to “curtsied.” I’m not sure why. I thought it was just
It’s a phrase that was written a long time ago in a newspaper one Spring and it caught the attention of the staff room on a giddy day in early May. The complete phrase is : “In Spring, nothing looks more like a clump of earth than the Darkling Thrush..” or something like that. It
OK, it’s starting to get to me. Can’t go outside – it’s raining. I’ve cleaned the bathroom – there’s nothing left to clean. Well, maybe there is, but I’m not doing it today. Yes, I have knitting to do and several books to read, but I’m climbing the walls. This is where it really gets
The title of this post is the opening line of a poem, “The Red Wheelbarrow,” by William Carlos Williams. It came to mind the other day when I saw the same line under a picture in one of our Toronto newspapers, either the Globe and Mail or the Toronto Star. We get both – it’s
