Happy New Day!

 In the last few days I've had passing thoughts about writing a blog entry. I even had a title a few days ago but try as I might I can not remember it. Realizing I've not written since mid December and  registering it being the last day of this month and this year I felt compelled to sit down and write an entry this morning. I am weary. Now in saying that I must say I have had some relaxing times since the frenzy of preparation a week ago  followed by the delightful activity and bustle of Christmas day. I took my birthday as a do almost nothing day. I have gone to bed most nights fairly early and even slept in until 9:00 this morning. The weariness comes from deep within. So many people are talking about their anxiousness to get rid of 2020. They speak of the difficulty of months of a global pandemic and the hope they hold for 2021. Of course I can echo all that. But this morning I remember the last day of December in 1999. Oh how I wanted the sorrow of that year to lift. We were invited to join Karen and Thane in their home for a New Year's Eve get together. Her ill brother sat in the corner as the rest of the family gathered in looking for the new year to lift the heavy burden they were carrying. We went through the motions and I thought I would break under the weight of my sadness. The next day and year dawned and we found our way through it one difficult day at a time .I see similarity and recognize the path, a path we are all on regardless of what it is we are given to face. A new day , a new year , new hope and renewed strength are the tools we have every  day no matter what the month or year is on the calendar. How quickly those days and years go. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger! I have no words of wisdom or  profound overview of what we've lived in 2020 and I have no eloquent words of positive prediction. I just have the knowledge that hard things are hard and we do the best we can. The weariness sometimes lifts long enough to give us the energy and zest we need to keep going. Love carries us and pushes us to do better. For that I am truly grateful whatever 2021 brings.

I Love Mondays

 I love Mondays and especially Monday morning with its  promise of possibility. I just made my list and sitting here I feel the joy of the day ahead. I don't mind saying that I hit the wall Saturday at suppertime. The thread that was keeping me together got taunt and broke. Now when that happens I'm not known for yelling and screaming but more for retreating to a quiet place and letting the tears come. I know a balance of both is probably healthier but I am a Bradley by birth and we do not confront. My wise son ( who doesn't know everything, but knows a lot) made the astute observation ,as he attempted to deal with his distraught mother , that I do better writing my feelings than voicing them. So true and right or wrong that is just the way it is. Monday mornings are quiet and in  the  month and season of our lives we now find ourselves that quietness is a welcome state. The grandkids are in school,  the adult children have or are going to work and just the two old folks remain. Mondays are writing days and I treasure them. Yesterday was a beauty day. The tree got in and up. Jenna put the lights on while I worked at supper prep and cleanup. Paige helped with decorating and running commentary . Emma made appearances. A lovely Sunday supper was enjoyed and the twinkling lights in the corner of the living room provided a warm and welcome glow. I was truly grateful for the activity and interaction in my home. And this morning I am truly grateful for the silence. The balance is the key. 

I Miss my Mother

 I love getting ready for Christmas. I love digging out the favorite decorations, the treasured objects, the precious memories. Just like everything else in life there is change to that. Some things stay packed away. Some placements change and some remain the same. I searched yesterday for a framed picture I'd given Mom and Dad a few years ago of Mom, myself and my two brothers standing on the steps of our house at 619 Regent St. prepared to leave for Moncton Christmas morning. The photograph is small but the feelings were huge as I searched for it knowing it had to sit on the small yellow table in the open area. The twinkling lights of the ceramic Christmas tree my mother made and the album cover from my childhood accompany pictures of my growing up family and my beloved parents. I miss them both but yesterday my heart kept reminding me how much I miss my mother. Funny how last night's jumble of dreams gave me both of them. Dad was eating with Chapin's kids and I was holding a new baby up to show Mom.  This morning as I write this my eyes fill with tears as I realize  the powerful weaving in and out of past , present and future our emotions guide us through. This present Christmas has so many gifts and challenges and all the Christmases of my past are thrown in as well as hope of future Christmases. And to top it off the song So This is Christmas comes on the radio. I got through Saturday Zac's 42nd birthday, the twenty second one we've had without him. I shed a few tears but did not have the big cry I anticipated. Perhaps that is coming soon. The big cry doesn't hurt anything and neither does the constant ache. Both are love and I am thankful for that love. I miss the comfort of that love when I can show up at Mom's and just be. She would feed me and wrap me in her love and the visit whether long or short would equip me to keep going. It still does. But now I am the mother , the grandmother and I am truly grateful for that honor. But oh how I'd love to walk through my mother's door and feel the status of being her special guest, her beloved daughter. Thankyou Mom for all the times you gave me that.

Zac changed the lyrics to 'So this is Christmas and what have we done We brought our mother with us and it's not any fun.' This was after a memorable fiasco of a Christmas Eve run. Oh the wonderful treasured memories.

Let's Sneak in Some Christmas

 We are coming to the end of November. One month from today will be Boxing Day or Sue's day as it's called around here; my birthday. But today as I watch November winding down as I sit here in my office in the quiet, gray morning I look to the day and plan to sneak some Christmas in one room at a time. I told the girls we would start decorating on December 1st. Now this year there will be lots going on on December 1st. Meg, Cody and the girls will move from the lovely little cabin they have been renting all fall and move in here for a month. My wish to have them home this Christmas has come true in big style. I am thrilled about this and hope to enjoy mostly every minute of it. I will attempt to let go of some of my control issues and relax if my house is not completely tidy and clutter free. Memories will be made and it is our intention to make them good ones. Today Emma and I will clean and decorate the den. That will be our first step to getting ready for Christmas 2020. I look forward to sitting this evening in the comforting glow of candlelight, with a rum and eggnog and a grateful heart ready to welcome the season.

Home Again , Home Again

This entry will look at being home  in  two different  ways. Firstly the being home again aspect related to Covid , the orange phase bordering on red and the possibility of complete lockdown again. As I write this I hear my nine year old granddaughter having a discussion on facetime with a friend and the discussion is definitely mainly on the impact of Covid in their present lives. When I walked in the room a few minutes ago she announced she was talking to her friend and that she can't come here like she did a few weeks ago because of the family bubble situation. They know all the lingo and definitely know the restrictions of life right now. They are afraid and worrying about the next few weeks. They will for now anyway keep going to school and diligently wear their masks and maintain their distance. I will stay home and keep my outside interaction very narrow.

I am thrilled to be home. I see these next few days as a gift of place and purpose. I have writing to do, cleaning and preparation for a family focused Christmas and a beautiful bubble with the people I love . I know part of my family will be outside the bubble and probably I'll only have distant and outside interaction but I know they will work hard at staying safe and happy within their own tight circle. I am so thankful for the challenges of making this a very different, special Christmas and know I have within the walls of my home everything I truly need. So today I pray for us all. Stay safe, stay kind, stay put and be thankful!

Zoom , zoom, zoom

 I am basking in the afterglow of last night. Launches are always a nerve racking jumble of activity, bustle and preparation. My wonderful community of family, friends and neighbors have for eight previous launches supported and embraced my efforts. I have so many wonderful memories from the first eight launches. Arriving at the Farmer's market to see an already full parking lot, chocolate chip cookies from Glenda, wonderful introductions, Saint John String Quartet, ice cream sundaes, butter tarts, Oh my God Monkey you look amazing, music played by Robbie and Calvin. So many  treasured  memories. Last night was no exception. In this time of Covid we had an online Zoom event and that itself brought a fair amount of anxiety. I asked my friend and fellow author Gerard Collins to interview me after seeing at Gerard's launch of The Hush Sisters what a nice addition to a launch  it was when Beth Powning so thoughtfully interviewed him. Gerard was wonderful. He asked thought provoking and deeply intuitive questions and in the first few minutes I felt right at ease and had stopped  seeing my face and flaws staring back at me. Friends, family and neighbors showed up and filled the screen in their little boxes. It was wonderful. My publisher Terrilee Bulger introduced me and offered encouragement and support throughout. Acorn's Genevieve Loughlin engineered the evening and made things run smoothly. I was thrilled with the chance to read and respond which of course has always been the joy of every launch. My office was the venue but the reach was vast; Vancouver, Saskatchewan, Montreal, Newfoundland, Halifax, Lunenburg, Fredericton, Lower Coverdale , Grand Lake, Campobello Island ,Hampton, just a few of the places from which people arrived. No one had to travel too far from home to show up and make this author feel supported and encouraged to keep doing what she does. Thank you!

Still Plodding Through November

 I wrote my last entry on November 2nd when the month was barely through the gate.  Yesterday my blog coach gently nudged me to write an entry but I was working to finish up the first round of edits for Skyward  that I'd given myself two weeks to complete. I was able to finish and send the edits back yesterday afternoon, three days before schedule. I am pleased with my efforts. I so appreciate the work my editor does to make me a better writer. The challenges she gave me seemed a bit overwhelming initially but as she stated in her notes I did already know the answers to all her queries when I dug a little deeper. The key is of course to make sure the reader knows it all, in good time , in a carefully crafted and deliberate way. I love that side of editing and am so glad for the care and attention my editor gives my work. When I thank Penelope Jackson in my acknowledgments please understand just how much I have to thank her for. Now on to round two and getting closer to the finish line and the actual book. So November continues. Today is a beautiful, sunny ,crisp day. I just had a Zoom practice call with author Gerard Collins and Acorn publicist Genevieve Loughlin. Oh boy technology is fun. Who doesn't love seeing their own face constantly on the screen? I am going to try to get over my self loathing as I engage in tomorrow night's Zoom launch of When the Hill Came Down. Gerard is going to interview me and I look forward to that. Yesterday I had an amazing wood road walk even though it was wet and muddy. It culminated in the sighting of a beautiful vibrant rainbow visible just as I began my descent . I took the time to take its beauty in and appreciate the gift spreading across the sky. What better way to celebrate having just completed the beginning edits on my novel entitled Skyward. Even in this bleak November remember to look to the sky, take in and be grateful for all the blessings, all the challenges and  all the gifts this life has to offer. 

Weary, Wonderful November

I am in my office this morning. A part of me would rather have headed back to bed , covered up and slept the morning away. I do feel weary. A good weary though. Weary with well doing. Maybe. I have been doing. Yesterday the day was spent in my pantry . Baked beans, Brown bread rolls and a large pot of aromatic, thick and deep yellow mustard pickles. Nine people sat at our table and enjoyed a Sunday supper meal while the November sky darkened early and the  rain fell and the wind blew outside. The leaves have pretty much all fallen to the ground. On yesterday's wood road walk a thick and colorful cover was the path beneath my feet. I felt the cooler air and the feel of November. I love the familiar feel of November. Thirty years ago I was awaiting the birth of my fourth child. November always brings the sadness and poignancy of Remembrance Day , a day of importance in a family with military connection and service. I feel the promise of first snow and deepening cold. I feel the comfort of wood heat and comfort food. I feel the tug of Christmas. Meg , Cody and the girls will move in with us for the month of December and I have told the girls we will begin trimming for Christmas on December first. What a different and wonderful December this will be. In my weariness I must remind myself to be truly thankful for the extra mouths I get to feed. A season of our lives to be savored and enjoyed . This morning I told Burton how weary I was and that I would like to go back in time. First I said 1985, than 1971, and then 1963. 1985, a new baby , 1971, Grade nine,1963 assassination of JFK. Each November ,each year and season brought challenges, difficulties, joys and sorrows of it's own. Weariness and wonder. Another year, another November, another stage and chapter in my life. 

RIP Richard

 I sadly acknowledge the passing of Richard Vaughan and extend my condolences to his family, friends, colleagues, readers , the city of Fredericton, the UNB community and to each and every one of us. His passing has taken something from us all. Every person who searched for him, prayed for him , heard updates on his disappearance, each first responder and whoever found his body have been impacted by his loss. One man's influence and the reach of his words , his passions, his life has a sad and tragic ending. He is no more in a physical sense and many will mourn. We all should mourn a life too soon over . I did not know Richard but it is a smiling photo that I see in my mind's eye as I write this. His work will live on. And the rest of us carry on . For now we are given another day. This day , a Sunday in late October which offers us gifts for the taking. Of course into this day we carry concerns and heartaches but the day is ours to do what we will. For me I will savor the seasonal gifts of fall colors before the trees are stripped bare for winter. I will cook my mother's famous mustard pickles and will pickle beets. I will enjoy whatever grandchildren walk through my door. I will prepare a family supper and welcome whoever gathers round our table. I will anticipate tomorrow's writing with a zeal for getting back to Jasper's Road. Yesterday I began rereading Ten Thousand Truths and was reminded of what it was that made Amelia so special

, so effective and so meaningful in the lives she touched. Food, tradition, place, purpose , acceptance , love and dedication. I fall short. I make mistakes but I put my feet on the floor everyday and keep trying. I am thankful for this another day and for my place and purpose. 

It is Not All About Me

 I feel a heaviness this morning that has been building for quite some time. I use the same tools daily to shake this heaviness but still it keeps mounting. I make my grateful list and it is extensive . I take my wood road walks and they are a gift. I  try my best to see my glass half full and most days I can. But what about the days I want to smash my glass against a wall and scream . Or the days I want to hide,  to walk or run away from all the worry and heartache. What about those days when I can't get out of my own way. A missing writer in Fredericton  is on my mind. I don't know him but hear all the worry and concern in the voices of those who do. Where is he and is he OK? Has he succumbed to the heaviness? I feel the sadness of the first year anniversary of loosing Dad and Gladys. I feel the strain and stress of family tension and I want that heaviness to lift. I want to feel hope , optimism, joy and see joy and hope in the people around me. I believe this is a stressful time for so many. We are caught up in the drama and frightening happenings south of the border and lots of concerning situations in our own country. We are daily reminded of the pandemic and all the changes and challenges that brings. I was reluctant to write this entry this morning , reluctant to admit to my present state of mind. I do know it is not all about me. I know all the things I know and still struggle to pull myself out of the funk I feel. The sun shines bright and I know there are better days ahead. I know things could be so much worse and this too shall pass. I know feeling sorry for myself doesn't help one little bit. Complaining and whining doesn't help at all. I know all this and I know sometimes just putting the words down helps  a bit. I want the heaviness to lift for more than just me.

And Then it's October

Looking out my office window I know it is October again. I feel it in the air and the early darkening skies in the evening. I feel the memory of the beginning days of October last year when my thoughts and my heart  were filled with the reality of them being Dad's and Gladys'  final days. I feel a certain heaviness looking back at my journal entries knowing what was waiting  for me last year. But October is so beautiful and holds so many comforting memories. For thirty four years we have as a family made our way to Kings Landing and allowed the beauty and peacefulness of that place be a part of our Thanksgiving. We hope to make our way there again this year and look forward to feeling October on the banks of the Saint John River in a village that feels like home to us. This October we are blessed with daily visits with Emma and Paige. I can also walk down to see my three other grandchildren  when they get off the bus. How blessed to have them all nearby. Last week I pulled off an escape by attending a Go and Write retreat  in St. Andrews and it was amazing. I had great interaction with fellow writers and lived in a grand house. But coming home was good too and the reality is I have a role at this stage of my life to be a wife ,mother and grandmother and that entails cooking, cleaning, and a fair bit of obsessing. I can also escape to my office and my writing and even though getting kids off the bus, making meals , doing laundry, managing this house and supporting my people gets thrown in I do not take that gift for granted. And would I want it any other way?

Be Where You Are

 Last week I was away. This morning I am back home and reflecting on the gifts and lessons last week provided. They were numerous and memorable and for each one I am truly grateful or as my friend Martha said, simply grateful. Back home with a long list of jobs to get to I do not have enough time to give last week's writing retreat its due in this entry. Tomorrow in the quiet Monday, back to work time I will attempt to tell more and give tribute to the week that was. Today five more writers arrive and join Gerard and Janie for another retreat and I was tempted to stay , to hide out in one of the hidden stairwells like a stowaway and then to try to  blend quietly into the next group. But I came home and as always  I am happy to be here. I  am anxious to get back to my office tomorrow. But for one whole week I lived in this grand house and it is a week in the life of this writer that will not be forgotten.

 

Back on the Veranda

 Summer has drifted into Autumn as quickly as the sun sets  or the puddles dry up. Our lives are lived day by day but the seasons sweep us up and carry us along at such a pace. This morning I got back out on the front veranda  for my coffee and journal time and to spend a few minutes reading the days of July. In preparation for Hurricane Teddy I had taken off the cushions moved the furniture against the wall, taken the hanging baskets down and while doing all that I wondered if my veranda time was over for this year. But this morning I put the cushions back out and rehung the fuchsias which are still growing and blossoming. Summer is over and the colors of fall are increasing. On Saturday it will be two years since Mom left us and on yesterday's walk I felt that loss deep in my soul along with the days of decline last September gave to Dad.  The way the slant of the sun, the temperature of the air and the essence of a season can conjure up memory is astounding. Without even being aware you suddenly realize your soul is processing the deep emotion that is usually stored away. Instantly you can be right back  to the moments of the past that challenged and stretched your emotional resilience. This morning as I wrote in my journal I wrote " Fill my basket with gratitude" as a deliberate effort to put my blessings in the forefront on this beautiful gift of a day. So that I will do; my health, the health and well being of my family, the friendship and support of my loved ones, my five wonderful grandchildren, my home and place, my work, memories and the love of the people who have gone before me, food, clean water, and so on and so on. And I am grateful for the  moments I spent back on my front veranda looking out at my peaceful ,imperfect, beautiful  farm on this another September day I have been given.

Waves of Sadness and Loss

 On this Tuesday morning my mind and heart  grapple with the sadness and loss of the weekend just passed. Judy a vibrant, smiling, happy and loving wife, mother, grandmother, friend and colleague went to bed Saturday night not knowing her life would end the next day. Shock , disbelief and fear hit us like a huge wave and bring us to our knees reminding us of the fragility of all our lives. I can not even imagine what her family and close friends are going through as they come to terms with this cruel reality. To never see her smile or hear her voice , to never have her arms reach  to  cradle her precious grandchildren, to never hear her laugh around the fire or feel her welcome greeting  when you enter her home. My heart breaks for Gerald her loving husband , a team that showed how blending a family is done. Her co-workers are mourning her loss and feeling the emptiness she leaves at her workplace. Her friends are lost and devastated.Everyone who knew her has lost something in her passing.Her beautiful daughters who carry her smile and her warm and caring ways must find their way without her. Her handsome son must carry on without her at his side. Shock and disbelief that she is gone is what we all have in common. Three young men gone leaving their families and friends reeling from that tragic truth . Three young men gone and reminding every parent of the terror a Saturday night can bring. Three young men gone and this mother's heart knows the pain and the terrible truth of just how tragic that is.The terrible loss that their community is facing is a truth the family will never forget , never move on from , never stop feeling to their very core.The first hours days and weeks will be so excruciating and they will somehow find their way through. Then  each family will embark on the life long task of living without Ty, Kobe and Denver. And two men drove off the end of a ferry into deep water. The circumstances or reasons will probably never be known but they will leave behind those who loved them and mourn for them. Sadness and loss make up the fabric of our lives and touch us all. The losses of this past weekend are only a wave in the vast sea of sadness and losses people deal with every day. No easy way to come and go from this life.No easy way.

A Very Different Year

 First day of school. I felt it in my bones in the early morning, I felt it as I went to bed last night, I felt it talking to Jenna as she told me about her first week back and the week ahead, I felt it in Emma's thoughts of the outfit she will wear tomorrow and her distress at thoughts of getting up so early. My FB feed this morning is full of first day photos and I recall  welcoming excited kids over the years. On the Current this morning a piece entitled A Very Different Year followed three kids and two families into the classroom on their first day of school. My grand kids don't go until tomorrow as their last names fall in the second half of the alphabet. That alone is one indication of it being a very different year. Masks and hand sanitizer, bubbles and social distancing have all become part of the norm and certainly the lingo in classrooms all over the country. On top of all that Meg's girls have a brand new school and unfamiliar classmates to deal with. Paige can often be heard saying" Just deal with it" and I am sure they will do just that. Tomorrow Grampie and I will try to be present as our grandchildren get on their buses and head off to another school year into grade two, grade three, grade four, grade six and grade ten. I can't help but be thankful that I am not in the classroom this year but do feel a twinge of sadness and nostalgia for all the first days I was a part of. I wish the kids , the parents, the teachers, principals, bus drivers and custodians all the best. Be kind, have fun and do your best!

Another Chapter

 It is the second crisp ,clear, beautiful day of September. I have always loved this month and all the changes and challenges it brings. Thirty five years ago I was anticipating the birth of my third child.  He had a seven year old brother and a three year old  sister waiting anxiously to welcome him. Instead of the classroom that fall I had the privilege of being home with my precious little family. Those memories are strong and I feel them reverberate in the fresh fall like air I breathe on this day. I now have five grandchildren to watch as they burst with excitement, and nervousness at the days ahead. Emma and Paige both beamed with happiness as they modeled each back to school outfit for their Monkey and Toad. We have had an amazing August with Meg's girls. What a gift knowing that even though they left last night to go to their temporary home for the next two months they are five minutes instead of five provinces away. But  I am back to work and I feel what I have every other summer when I see them go. I feel such gratitude for having had the time with them but such freedom as I get my life back. Now we find our way through the new normal and the challenges ahead. I have not been in the lake since Friday letting the cool air stop me but I will get back in today as I am not ready to let my lake go yet. As I begin my work day and take a few minutes to write this blog entry I let the summer of 2020 sink in . I watch that thirty five year old boy father his precious children and be an amazing uncle and I fill with pride and thankfulness. My eyes well up with tears at the changes and sorrows but my heart expands with joy and gratitude. I watch  my granddaughter getting  geared up for grade four knowing the teacher to greet her is not me, but the grandmother who will meet the bus at the end of the day is who I get to be this September. 

Whichever Window

 For two days and nights I stared out a beautiful window ,in silence and solitude,  mesmerized by a stunning scene . I allowed the roiling waves of the Northumberland Straight to quiet the turmoil and unrest in my soul. I searched my heart and my mind looking to find peace and acceptance. I dug deep for strength and resilience and forgiveness. I acknowledged my weakness, my shortcomings and celebrated my victories. I came back home to my own window and my own circumstances , rested and with a resolve to do the best I can with what I've been given.  This is not a new exercise but one I have conducted my whole life and one I especially have relied on in the last twenty one years. Survival and growth and keeping my head above water are daily tasks and require daily attention. Seasons of challenge and difficulty are nothing new and are a part of our human experience. Our perspective looking out the same window can differ and our optimism can waver and falter and sometimes we only see the darkness not the

light the same view provides. I am reaching the end of another summer with gratitude and sadness, hope and heartache but I do look ahead to the beauty that awaits. The view out my office window will change and take on the  colors of autumn and then the hues of a winter landscape. I am grateful for another return to my desk and look forward to my regular writing days. I will remember the days I gave myself to just stare out of Odette and Yo Anne's loft window allowing time and distance to replenish my confidence and hopefulness. I ask for love and generosity to abound and will keep trying to do my part.

Another Sunday Morning

The best start to my day is sitting out on my front veranda gazing down toward the road, seeing the herd of cows meandering in the green pasture  and listening to the quiet sounds of the morning.I am loving my front veranda, and the time spent in the fresh morning air . I hope to begin my day in that manner  until the snow flies. This has been a summer to remember in so many ways. There are loose ends to tie up and things to be worked out but for the most part I have soaked in the sun, took daily dips in my healing lake and embraced the move that has brought our daughter, our son in law and Emma and Paige home. Yesterday I returned to the market and had the best sales day ever. Looking at my final tally Emma decided that maybe she would be a writer. I assured her that writers don't make this much money every day. But how nice to greet returning readers and meet new ones. The highlight of my day yesterday was connecting with a woman who grew up a few miles away from where I lived in Long Reach.She had been introduced to my books by a friend of Zac's who has always been a huge supporter of my work.She came to the market to buy all nine books which is such a thrill for me.She told of reading my new book and coming to pg 99 where she saw her father's name and a reference that was fictional but so meaningful in her own memory. Being a writer who uses my home area as setting for most of my work and throws in real people among the fictional story lines I love it when it brings that kind of connection to my readers. She was thrilled to delve into fiction to retrieve memory and meaning. I realize as I write this  that the real value of my quiet mornings on the veranda is reflection and processing and a chance to fill up my  gratitude reservoir. Days when I don't get that opportunity leave me floundering and empty. Even in all the busyness, all the worry and heartache the last few weeks have brought I can truly say just being where I am and taking in my blessings have kept me going. I will return to my desk when the teachers go back and I will continue to put effort into crafting stories that matter to me. Knowing that they matter to other people too makes it even more meaningful. We all have heartache, sorrow, loss and pain but the gifts are there for the taking. This Sunday morning my gifts were plentiful. Against the backdrop of cows mooing and roosters crowing, with two old dogs snoozing at my feet and a granddaughter still sleeping I let the morning coffee wake me, the sun encourage me and the days' promise call to me.With that beginning I can face all the rest of it.

What Comes Next?

 This time of year for me has always been a very transitional time. The last weeks of August always brought a frenzy of activity ramping me up for another school year. For the last eleven years it has meant returning to my office either to a work in progress or a new project. The air changes and the slant of the sun changes and the mindset from summer to September changes as well. This year is no different with a whole lot of other things thrown in. I have some heaviness weighing on my mind that I pray will lift in the next while. I have two escapes that I am looking forward to, hoping they will be refreshing and  rejuvenating both personally and professionally. I am looking forward to returning to the Farmer's market on Saturday and meeting new and old readers.I have one book I want to re-work a bit, and two books started I hope to get back to. I have an idea percolating for another so I have lots to motivate me. I remember thinking that maybe the well would run dry and I would get to a place with no new ideas but luckily that has not happened yet. This is the twelfth fall that I get to go back to my office and full time writing. 

For that I am so grateful. Isolation will finish in two days and there are so many aspects of regular life I am looking forward to. I have felt exiled, distanced and removed from so much but have been so lucky to have my husband, my daughter, her husband and two of my grandchildren in exile with me and each day brought a plethora of gifts. Caleb and Jenna stayed on the periphery of our exile offering support and encouragement. I look forward to opening our circle to family and friends .I look forward to hugs from my other grandchildren and seeing their happy ,smiling faces. What a strange time this is with the overarching worry and anxiety of a world wide pandemic, the uncertainty of our norms and the required adaptation and adjustment. But even in all of this upheaval let us remember to be kind, to be patient and forgiving, to be families and people we can be proud of when we look back.August will bring September. Summer days will turn to fall and winter will follow. Seasons unfold and this too shall pass. 

Days of Self Isolation

 Two steps forward and how many back? I am feeling that way today as the girls and I approach our day 14 only to tack seven more days on to accommodate Burton, Megan and Cody. For the most part we are doing just fine. We are staying busy enjoying summer on the Walton Lake Road. We have been careful to stay away from people. We are partaking of daily swims but only jump in the lake when no one else is there. We have had a couple of  visitors keeping their distance and making their stops brief. We had a kind friend  drop off Chinese Food to us. Caleb and Jenna have gone to the store for us. Louisa and Roxanne have shopped for specially requested items.We did a self isolation pick up from Fullerton's market. A friend and her daughter did a Costco run for us this morning. Telephone calls and texting check ins have taken place. We are good. We are well and we are fine. But part of me wants so desperately to return to what in the last few months has become our new normal. I want to go to Reid's Point Pub. I want to visit friends. I want to go for an ice cream cone or sit  on a beach with other people. This too will end! I know that but I can't help feeling a little trapped, a bit of cabin fever. We have not  visited with Aunt Louisa for goodness sake and that doesn't seem natural. The kids haven't seen

their cousins. We are so blessed with space, food to eat  and each other. Before we know it these days will be a thing of the past. Today I hold on to that hope and dream of brighter days ahead.  

Change is as Good as a Rest

 I don't know about the wisdom of the old adage that is today's title.  There's been lots of change in the last months, weeks and days and if self isolation is a rest I guess we are having it. But I do not feel rested . On the contrary I feel on edge, worn out and weary. I know there are many factors contributing to the heaviness I am feeling and am employing all the strategies I have to work through this. I am taking advice from friends and loved ones and searching my own tool chest of resources to move through these current days. I can see that the worry and tension of Covid is a contributing factor and I realize this is universal. I also know how fortunate I am in the scheme of things. The world is suffering on so many fronts and I know my problems do not compare. I count my many blessings and will attempt to allow my blessings to overshadow my heartaches. How blessed we are to be in this place, to have the people we have in our lives and be exactly where we are  on life's journey. Mistakes , failures and missteps have occurred but we are still standing. Change brings challenge and would we really want it any other way. Or could we expect it to be any other way? Nothing easy about this thing we call life. Each new day we are given is a chance to do better, love deeper and grow stronger. The hugs, the smiles, the kind words and gestures make it all worth while and on this day I have all those things. The sun is shining and we are well. Laughter and tears go hand in hand and we have our fill of those as well. Let us not borrow the troubles of another day but embrace the day we are given. Rest,

regroup and carry on as best we can.

Be Covid Kind

This morning a greeting on a fellow author Jane Tim's blog caught my attention. So many people are ending a conversation these days with Be Safe. This global pandemic is on our minds and lips and in our psyche to be sure. But Jane's greeting spoke loudly to me this morning.  This climate of mask shaming, arrow tension, guideline confusion and continual debate regarding freedoms has us on edge to say the least.  Daily news reports fuel this deep debilitating fear and turmoil we all feel. Lock downs, talk of vaccines, government inaction as well as interference, medical advice, medical debate, conspiracy theories and death counts keep this fear roiling. Kindness does not always abound and even an angry pointing to an arrow on the floor  on ones first trip into the Wal-Mart after four months of  staying clear can leave you feeling upset and confused. Uniformed officers directing you through a processing line before allowing you to enter your home province while necessary and  responsible is off putting never the less.  I do understand the need for protocol, for guidelines and recommendations . Not being a person overly worried about germs I slowly came to take this crisis seriously and have tried to adhere to the daily ( ever fluctuating advise). I do however see holes and discrepancies in the guidelines. I will not get into the doubts I have in systems that were already hugely flawed dealing with this massive challenge. But again I return to kindness. In a world where bus drivers are beaten to death for asking passengers to wear a mask, and leaders of large countries suggest ludicrous cures and show heartless indifference we know kindness does not always rule the day. But please in families and communities and in our own hearts, step back and take a deep breath and be kind. The tag line " We are all in this together" might be getting old but I for one don't want to have to slog through this madness by myself without the love and support of the people I care about. Be well, be safe, be smart but above all for the love of God be kind!

What is a Garden?

First and foremost on this last day of July;I am home with Meg's girls.The sun is shining and despite the dog hair billowing across the floor in every room my home is pretty much as I left it.The trip to Meg's accomplished all I set out to do and today is moving van day and tomorrow they set out on their cross country adventure.Our travel day went really well and for that I am very thankful. One granddaughter is still sleeping and the other is hunkered down(she says she's cold) in my bed with her I pad. I am thankful , I am hopeful and I am where I need to be. We will undertake our fourteen days of self isolation and before we know it it will be behind us and a memory to add to our repertoire. Another memory I will process is the unfortunate garden destruction of July 30, 2020. Several foraging cows decided it was the time to break through the fence surrounding my garden and help themselves to the results of my labor.Upon hearing this news as the girls and I waited at the MacDonald take out window( by the way last night was my first time eating there in many years and will be my last) my first thought was how terrible Caleb must be feeling about it. Caleb is a hard working, well intentioned man who feels things deeply and tries his best to juggle a full time job and the huge demands of farming. He is proud and determined and I am fiercely proud of him. He is always willing to lend a hand to others and he has a very caring spirit . And he loves his mother. I know just how miserable he felt knowing he had to tell me the garden I had devoted hundreds of hours to had been invaded.Now coincidentally as I write this there is a piece on CBC about Mr. Rogers and it just so happened I watched the Tom Hanks, Mr Rogers movie on my way to Alberta . A line in the movie stuck with me and I adapted it right away when I texted Caleb back. " Gardens don't matter, people matter."Now of course I am sad to see my tall rows of corn stripped down to the ground, my lush rows of peas gone and several sunflowers laying uprooted. But it is just a garden and all my people are fine. To this mother and grandmother that is all that really matters. Life throws us disappointments and puts up roadblocks for us to navigate around.We fail, we make mistakes, we have things happen that are out of our control. The hours of hope and expectation, the time I spent in  my  quiet peaceful place of earth and sky were not in vain even if not another vegetable is harvested.I will take this defeat and find a way to get past it as I hope Caleb will. My first response was to never drop another seed or hoe another row but if I take that stance I will take away the optimism that keeps me going.In this world where suffering is bountiful, hope must be bountiful too and I will clutch on to that thank you very much.And cows like vegetables too. I will remember that when they make it to my plate.

Bookends of Blessing

In my office on this misty, grey morning I sit and reflect. I have loved the bright sunny hot summer's days of gardening, swimming and soaking up July. Another July, this one so similar but so different than previous ones. This July has it's mix of joy and sadness, victories and failures, wonder and worry. This July we work toward our departure to go out and help Meg move. We are over the moon with happiness at the prospect of having her nearby, of driving a short distance to see our girls and having them pop in for visits , sleepovers and to be available and accessible when we are needed.Other summers we have had the pleasure of their visits, of memory making and adventure, of relationship building , laughter, tears and beautiful moments in time. Those summers have gotten us to where we are right now.The seeds were planted, the attention and work done to create what we now have to look forward to.I love the seasons,the routines and gifts each month and season brings. I love the rest and regrouping summer has always provided. I love the anticipation of fall and thoughts of getting back to work. Two days ago my ninth book arrived by courier. I had been waiting to behold and hold another book created from a tiny seed of an idea I worked and crafted, word by word, step by step.I place that ninth book in the bookends beside the others. Each book,each season a tribute to the life I've been given to live. I sometimes am overwhelmed with the thought of it. I was a little girl dreaming of writing a book, being a teacher and having children. I have done those three things while trying to maintain who I am and what I believe in.Perhaps this day of reflection needs a good jolt of " just get on with it, get over yourself, make a list and get to work." Ok everyone! Everyone is Ok . We will get done what needs to get done. We will go , come back and keep living this interesting, not always easy, rewarding and frightening life.

Counting the Sleeps

Paige is keeping an accurate count of the sleeps before Monkey and Toad come and the sleeps before she leaves with me to move to New Brunswick. From the first mention of the move Paige has been totally on board.She has always been the one who was the loudest advocate for moving to NB.Her enthusiasm and cheer leading will certainly help to keep all our spirits up when the challenges and hurtles of the next few weeks threaten to overwhelm us. I look forward ,once the stress of Covid air travel is behind us, to taking each of our fourteen self isolation sleeps with my girls and then the isolation when the driving across the country people get here as a gift , a treasure and a privilege .It will be a strange but doable August doing whatever needs to be done to have our daughter and her family living nearby. Days and sleeps to get ready and days and sleeps to let the reality settle in and begin a new chapter in the White/McGaffin family story.It is deliberate, intentional upheaval and relocation which takes courage and determination and vision. For all that I am so very proud of my daughter. I know there will be dark moments of doubt and second guessing but I do believe we will all keep our wits about us for the most part. Accepting the difficult, stepping up and doing what needs to be done and holding on to the decision will see us through. Paige has put in her self isolation grocery requests. She is focusing on the lake, the bonfires, the pea picking, the growing cucumbers, the domino games, the morning snuggles and all the things the keeper of fun will provide. Family and being together will be worth all the difficulty and uncertainty ahead. In the upheaval of this crazy, frightening world we will cling to the foundation of love that family and friends offer us.So lists will be made and I will do what needs to be done on this end and welcome each sleep at the end of the next few days. The summer of 2020 will be the summer Meg made the move that has been the desire of our hearts since the day she moved to Alberta.When this chapter gets written we will read back and know just how wonderful it all was.

Double Digits of July

Slow down you're moving too fast, got to make this moment last... How come the months go by so fast? How come on the first of each month we are already anticipating the end of the month? Summer days are supposed to drag by. Yesterday I spent some time relaxing in my hammock just feeling the warm sun and the gentle breeze. I had spent the previous couple of hours toiling in the garden. I had gone to the lake and jumped in the refreshing water then sat on the shore enjoying my grandkids. Earlier in the day I had balked at a reporter on CBC making reference to the end of July as if it was already upon us. "We are still in the single digits" I replied out loud as if she could hear me. Don't rush this month. Now I am very excited about what the end of this month will bring. Our long awaited dream of having our daughter and our granddaughters move back to NB is happening. An adventure of huge proportions will unfold and step by step or kilometre by kilometre both driving and flying will take place to make that happen. But I need the slow days of July to get my strength up . I need to allow these days to fill me with hope, courage, wisdom, and stamina to face the task ahead. Amid the world's turmoil and uncertainty we are stepping off the ledge believing solid ground waits below.So this morning as I head to the garden I acknowledge that we are now in the double digits. Three weeks from today the girls and I will be waking up here to the unfolding of fourteen days of isolation awaiting those driving across the country and the weeks of settling in to take place. July will have come to an end and August will be waiting to scurry by.One day at a time is how its done but the real challenge is to receive each day without letting the worry of the days to come overwhelm us.Let's see how I do with that today.

A Day of Rain

Puddles! What a wonderful sight as I look out the raindrop covered skylight this morning. Yesterday I finished the last weed filled row in the garden and all the plants stood ready for the gentle rain to soak into the dry and dusty soil.I can almost see the corn and sunflowers growing in front of my eyes. I will take this wet day as a reprieve and a rest from the toil of maintaining my huge garden. I will return and there will be weeds to pull and rows to hoe. That is what I love to do on these summer days. Garden work and lake swims have replaced my wood road walks and I don't think my dogs are too happy about that. Disco still looses his mind when he sees me putting socks on and getting my sneakers. He barks his "we're going for our walk " bark until he realizes I am just going to the garden.This morning I thought of the walks I took with Dad last spring. Memories of those walks fill me with joy and sadness and so much thankfulness that we took the time to take those walks together. Very quickly the mobility that was improving in April deteriorated by mid July. He said it was as if he woke up an old man one day.I hear interviews of people who can not get in to care for their loved ones who are alone in special care homes during this Covid time and am so thankful Mom , Dad and Gladys did not have to go through this difficult time.On this rainy day I will regroup. I will clean and make lists of the tasks I must tackle this month. This month is a month of planning and anticipating our daughter's move. It is different than the summers before when I cared for Mom and Dad and made memories with Paige and Emma. But in some ways it is exactly the same. It is being present, putting effort into family and future. It is weeding and hoeing the garden that is life. It is taking the sunshine along with the showers. It is hope and optimism and reality. It is adaptation and acceptance. It is love, loyalty and good hard work believing in the bounty of the harvest.

It's at the Printer!

Another blog entry so soon? My coach will be surprised. I may be stalling, avoiding or maybe just allowing my roiling mind to simmer a bit but here goes the news of the day. When the Hill Came Down is at the printer and will be in my hands soon. I am anxious to receive it as I always am when a new book arrives. The arrival of my ninth book will not rival the excitement , joy and thrill of seeing my first book . A few days ago I sat in the same spot in the Shoppers Drug Mart parking lot that I had pulled into after having picked up my ten author copies from the post office nine years ago. I recalled ripping the box open and seeing copies of The Year Mrs. Montague Cried. I wept as I held that little book the efforts of a year of writing and the testament to the sorrow of loosing my beloved firstborn son. Such layers of joy and anguish, such accomplishment and heartache. I still hold that little book with awe , pride and gratefulness. Every book following brought its own feelings and I loved receiving them. This one has its own story ( on the page of course and in the writing process) and has its own personality.It has been a long time getting here and was interrupted by the state of the 2020 world we are living through but the wait makes it even more exciting.The launch may happen at a later date but more pressing concerns fill our thoughts and need our energy this summer. Maybe a fall launch will welcome this new book. In the meantime I will order a few and sell to interested readers. Welcome to the family, When the Hill Came Down.

A Night With the 82

A lovely June evening and Thai food on Kathy's welcoming deck was where the 82 Moms gathered to have their June closing . Other years we have met at Splash and sat around the table enjoying each others company as we prepare for our summer break. Now meeting once a month at each other's homes does not require a break but we have always had our June night closing, planning to get together again in August at Faye's pool and then begin our rotation again in September. Last night's get together was different and perfect.We met outside socially distancing and following best practices. We talked, caught up , laughed like crazy and allowed the bond we already have to become deeper and more valuable. After hearing an author on CBC's Q program interviewed yesterday I thought of writing a book about a group of mothers who gave birth in 1982. The author spoke of a friendship between two men who meet at a Dublin pub after years apart. I mentioned to the 82 Moms that I might have to write a book entitled 82 Moms. It will be fiction of course but life itself is stranger and more diverse than fiction or fiction mirrors the crazy range of what life throws at us. Last night eight women represented the twenty one children , twenty two grandchildren, the losses, the sorrow and joy, the challenges and triumphs that thirty eight years have delivered us.We shall see if that small seed of an idea grows into a book but either way I am blessed to have the 82 Moms in my life. Such support and camaraderie is a gift beyond measure.( the food is always good too) Each one of us faces challenges in the summer months ahead as well as many blessings and joys to embrace. Each one of us takes our own strength and resilience into the coming months but also takes the strength and support the group extends. We will meet again at poolside and reflect on the days that unfolded , the wins and the failures , the joys and the sorrows this life provides.And Ellen THANKYOU. You did not have to do that!

Home Again , Home Again

What a beautiful June morning. Up early and getting to the garden before eight o'clock. A quick blog entry to announce the joy of our hearts as we look ahead. Meg is coming home. Coming home to live and we are thrilled. Our granddaughters who we bring home as often as we can, who I write weekly letters to , who I talk to almost every day are going to be nearby. The cousins are going to grow up together, not a country apart.This is what we have wished for , waited for and wondered if it would ever come true.We have hurtles ahead but together we will jump over them. This summer season is a season of change and challenge. We are living in an uncertain time and so much is happening globally. But right here on the Walton Lake Road the future is bright and exciting.My garden grows patiently, waiting for moisture. My heart holds hope and optimism. My soul floods with joy and thanksgiving. In these uncertain, frightening times family is the foundation that grounds us and it is time for our girl to head back home. Now off to pull those nasty thistles from the garden and create another weed free row.Hard work, dedication, vision and tackling one weed at a time gets the job done and will serve us well in the next few weeks. So much for a quiet Covid summer. A former squash patch to aspire to.

We'll Meet Again

Dame Vera Lynn died at 103 today. Whenever I hear her sing We'll Meet Again I think of my mother. My mother gifted me so many old songs and I am so thankful for that. Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree With anyone else but me... My blog coach instructed me to write an entry this morning and my first thought was I do not have the time. I got out of bed early this morning because I had one hundred more pages to proof of When the Hill Came Down. I wanted it done and sent back to my publisher so it can go to print and I can hold it in my hands as soon as possible.I wanted to get to the garden for at least an hour and reward myself with a relaxing afternoon at my friend's camp. I wanted to fit in a swim . I had a short surprise visit from a friend who came for eggs and had the pleasure of sitting on the back veranda chatting for a few minutes. I had a nice message from someone with a possible literary invitation inquiry.I read through the ms and only found one mistake(don't hold me to that Elias) and was bawling by the end of it which means my work was done and I created what I set out to do when telling the story. Hopefully readers will agree. I read the acknowledgments which gives mention to the importance of Gladys and my Dad in the fabric of this finished book.My blog coach asked me to write some good things about marriage.Marriage like writing a book is hard work. It is not a fairy tale or a perfect painting . It is messy and difficult and frustrating and maddening. It is ups and downs, disappointments, compromise and confusion. It is joy and sorrow, laughter and tears. It is sunshine and heavy rain. It is still blue water and perilous waves. It is worth it. The results of all the hard work will be a legacy you leave your children and grandchildren. Love will triumph if you make the choice to let some of the other crap go. I am not saying that all marriages are worth slogging through . Some situations need to be escaped and I do not judge anyone who makes the choice to walk away from a marriage. But if perfection is the goal you will be disappointed. Sometimes days start out one way and end up another. Maybe only a few weeds will get pulled today and I will have to tell myself what I did achieve today will have to be enough. I seem to be rambling a bit but I got my ms sent back, wrote an entry, cried some tears , remembered Gladys and Dad and my mom, heard Dame Vera Lynn's beautiful voice and feel deeply grateful for it all.

Full Speed Ahead

Oh so much percolating in my head and heart. The months ahead hold challenge, change and adventure.I will provide details at a later date as things unfold.On this quiet June day I will spend my time pulling weeds, hoeing rows and tending to my large garden . I will hope for rain and be optimistic for the healthy growth of each green shoot poking from the earth. I will at the same time hold my worries, concerns and petitions in my mind and heart, believing things will move along as they should. This past season of isolation, trepidation, adjustment and introspection have altered our perspectives and focused our priorities. Together we will find our way through the months ahead and will rejoice in the harvest. Tomorrow night the virtual NB Book Awards Gala will take place. Hopefully technology will not let me down and I will be able to fully participate from the privacy of my office where the words are written and the dreams unfold.I am thankful Fear of Drowning will be given some attention and will take that as a reminder that ideas, vision, dreams and hard work pay off. I cling to that as we face uncertainty on the next part of life's journey.Burton and I cried last night remembering our family trip across Canada in 1996. What a blessing that adventure was. We loaded five kids into our van and took off on a month long road trip. Oh the wonderful memories we made. Heading out we had no more idea of what lay ahead than we will on this next venture but we headed out never the less. We faced each adversity, no tent, no gas stations, bad water at the great divide (poor Chapin),and forged ahead.What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. We as a family are strong even though some days I feel a bone aching weakness. So I vow on this day to tackle each day with the assurance and expectation that the strength we need will be given us but realize I need to remind myself of that quite often.That is what I've got Burton for. . So tomorrow night's venue is my office.All the best to the shortlisted authors and fingers crossed for Fear of Drowning and technology.

I Can't Breathe

I woke up dizzy this morning. The room was spinning and objects would not focus. I have been taking the morning slowly allowing my head and heart to settle. Perhaps there is a physical reason for my condition or maybe it is just emotions catching up and slowing me down. My friend Sheree Fitch wrote a post about panic attacks today and I understand the panic attack and know the feeling of not being able to breath.But I do not know the terror of having that breath taken from me by force. I have George Floyd on my mind. I can not get the picture of his suffering out of my mind. I can not get the picture of the man who took his life out of my mind either.My heart breaks with the callous indifference and inhumane disregard for another human being. All any of us crave in our weakness is compassion . No compassion was shown George Floyd and that should fill each one of us with fear and shame.I felt unable to write this entry because of the fear to look this act fully in the face and realize the depth of intolerance and hatred that exists in this world. It truly makes my head spin and makes me short of breath. I am afraid, in this world of uncertainty and unspeakable acts . I do not know how to get past the fear sometimes and even though I have coping skills and ways to fill my own positive reserves sometimes those don't feel like enough. So today I will slow right down. I will look at my blossoming flowering crab, the bursting green around me the promise of rhododendron blossoms . I will look into the photographs of my five grandchildren and look into their eyes and beautiful smiles searching for the hope and beauty of this world.I will pat my dogs who rally round me . I will let my tears flow and wash over me. I will hold out for better days.I will pray for this world of ours.

A Book a Year

" A book a year for the next twenty years" was a statement I made at my first book launch. Caleb asked me later if that was really my plan. " I thought you were just writing this one." Oh my heavens no. While The Year Mrs. Montague Cried was a book I needed to write and was the book that got me published first it was from the start only one of the many I dreamed of writing. And funny enough, dreams have played a part.My soon to be released book When the Hill Came Down came about because of a dream. I recall telling the dream at a Sunday night supper. Don't you just love it when people tell you their dreams in detail. Not! After telling the dream I said I was going to write a book about the scene in my dream. Caleb said" Well that's the end of Mom's writing career." Hopefully not. This morning I finished writing book number twelve.This story came to me in a dream when I was staying with friends Odette and YoAnne in their beautiful home on the Northumberland Strait. I have felt so connected to Odette throughout the writing and have often reached out to her with questions. She has sent me photographs to help me embrace the setting. I hate finishing books. I become so attached that I am always filled with emotion when the end comes. Yesterday I wrote the last chapter and cried. The emotion in the last chapter may have justified my tears but some of the tears were simply because I was done. I will of course spend more time with the book as I fine tune, revise and gather an overall sense of it before I let it go. But oh how I will miss the characters and the beautiful shores of the Northumberland Strait.Now I wait for the summer to offer up where my writing will take me when I return to my desk at the end of August. I have two novels started and I may wander back to them but I have another idea percolating and it may take over. Or something totally new may show up. A dream might even push its way into the creating of the next book. I do not know and that is what makes this goal so much fun.

What Today Is

I got a reminder yesterday from my blog coach (daughter)that I had not written since last Friday.I did consent to write one this morning so here goes. In beginning this day I can't help but think what today would be . I got a reminder on my phone first thing that today was the NB Book Awards Gala.I thought many times on Thursday that it would have been launch day. I would be in Fredericton giving a young writers workshop and last night I would have given out the awards for the WFNB's writing competition winners.I would be attending the Gala tonight and Fear of Drowning would or would not win.Would have been , should have been , would be but I'm not. The Kingston Farmer's Market opened today and I am not there either. With no new book to sell and strict regulations I have decided to wait awhile before returning. I wish the new manager, the board , vendors and all the market goers the best this morning. So back to what today is instead of all it could have been. It is sunny and beautiful. Yesterday was the first day at Marlene's camp which is always a season indicator. Yesterday I wrote my journal and had my coffee on the front veranda for the first time. My grand kids got in the lake yesterday for their first swim of the season. I put my feet in but didn't take the plunge.I have the garden started and today I will continue planting.May as most months it seems is barreling by. It has brought sadness and loss and I hold my friend Alice in my thoughts as she finds her way.Change and challenge is constant as we begin to open up and adapt to Phases and plans to deal with Covid 19 concerns. We are weary and wounded and wary. Life is the same and so different.Summer plans will be adapted. I will get in the lake. Seeds will germinate and green shoots will break through the earth. Alice will face all the firsts,the heartbreak and the loneliness. I need on this day to take a really big gulp of one day at a time.Do the work, dream the dream, put one foot in front of the other , count your blessings and don't borrow troubles from another day.You can do this.

A King Among Men

I knew this day would come which does not make it any easier . Alice who has watched her beloved husband's gradual and serious decline for months was overwhelmed with the depth of despair she felt when he took his last breath. Of course this is the way of it. We can tell ourselves a million times that it is coming, prepare ourselves in a surface way, even pray for the end to come but the abruptness and finality of the death, the separation, the before and after is monumental and must be endured. Nothing easy about any of it. The things we tell ourselves are comforting, 'he had a good life' 'he lived the way he wanted' he had seventy five years' and on and on and all of that is true of course. Good memories will be treasured, kind words and prayers will abound but still the reality is brutal. The loneliness, indecision, regrets, and second guessing, blame and anger,disbelief and despair will accompany the loss.Paul Edson was a great man. He was wise, kind, positive, grateful, loving, loyal, hard working, generous, and patient. He gave his all to his wife, his kids, his grand kids, his siblings , friends and neighbors. And he loved his yard, his front veranda , his history channel,his garage, his dog and his deer.He was rock solid for his wife while at the same time willing to pretty much go along with whatever she said. He loved his time at the trailer and his friends Richard and Charlene.Burton and I will miss him like crazy. We have a treasure trove of wonderful , warm and funny memories. We will miss his slow cooker creations, his predicable quotes and his genuine interest in everything. Our kids love him like an an uncle and his influence in their lives runs deep. Go in peace Paul. You have fought the good fight and have made us all proud to say we knew you.

This Mother's Day

This Mother's Day I woke to snow covered fields and trees and low single digit temperatures. But the sun was shining and I accepted what the day was to be. Burton made breakfast and Caleb brought my gift and a wonderful hug.I attended online church but came late and missed parts of it.I had a leisurely (as I do every single day) bath and was just getting dressed when my across the road grand kids and their dad showed up. They were smiling widely with mother's day joy and a gift for Grammie.They had just left when Meg called and Paige happily offered her greetings. A nice relaxing afternoon ended with a walk. I bundled up and headed up the wood road. Burton went to the pub and picked up our pre-ordered supper . It was delicious. A quiet rather isolated Mother's Day but nice never the less. A day to reflect on motherhood, its joys, its sorrows ,its victories and failures, its vulnerability and disappointments, its rewards and blessings.The snow is almost gone and a new day has dawned and on I go being a mother, a grandmother and living the life I have been given. As my mother used to say "just be your own sweet self". I'm trying and will keep trying . And full disclosure my gift from Meg arrived by courier Monday afternoon.

Harley the Therapy Dog

I often talk about how much I value my journal and reading back previous entries on my blog. I started my writing morning with just such a look back.I went to the May entries from last year. What a gift looking back is. May 6th talked about the rhythm of our days. It took me right to the afternoon I spent walking to the brook with Dad, preparing his supper and having the privilege of sitting together for a meal. I knew at the time how valuable those days were but am happy to be reminded. I also can't help but think of the rhythm of our 2020 May days with all we are facing this year. Last night I had a weepy spell.I had googled something leading me to something else and discovered that Tim McGraw's daughter has an uncle named Zachary White. Seeing that name on my screen brought the tears. Perhaps I was already vulnerable from watching a sappy movie Tim McGraw was in. Soon after my daughter sent me a picture of her and two of her brothers and I lost it.My sweet dog Harley instantly comes to my side at the first sign of tears. I always feel compelled to assure her I'm OK so she can relax. Back and forth texts with Meg calmed me and re started the tears and poor Harley was up and down, back and forth to my side.Already in the writing of this entry Harley has left Paige's room to come to my side twice. Get it together she is probably thinking. Well the blessing is that usually I do have it together and for that I am so thankful.I am anxious to get to work this morning. On my wood road walk yesterday I had an idea of where to take my story next. Yesterday I was having a crisis of confidence and felt stuck trying to get to the end of the story but not sure how to get there. What came to me was a journal shared by a woman's daughter that answers some questions for two of the characters. We shall see how that plays out.When I say we I really mean me as I have to do the writing to make it work . I also have to believe it will work. My re reading of journals and blog entries is all about building on the belief that our days and our struggles matter and that we will get through them. I believe that next year when I read back to these days I will be given that same assurance. We can do this!

May Days

Yesterday the highlight of my day was a short pop in visit from my grandson Skyler. What a sweet, kind and happy boy. Our short visit was crammed with so much. He arrived so excited about driving the tractor almost by himself,his rain pants covered in mud and a wide smile on his face. What a joy to this grandmother's heart to see him and his dad so actively involved in the great outdoors and each other. After asking his dad he accepted a cookie which I said might be a little stale since they weren't his uncle's favorite and weren't getting eaten up very fast. He asked me all kinds of questions and I asked him some. Missing school , his friends and some aspects of normal life he remains so happy and positive. Looking at the calendar he said" It's May, April was a sad month".So this morning remembering his delightful visit I will think about May days. My mother always loved Mayflowers and spoke of May Day celebrations at school. Her birthday was May 5th and she would be 92 if we still had her with us.As I mentioned in my last entry May has some disappointments with all its cancelled or postponed events and happenings.The market has not opened in a normal way. I will not receive my new book or have my launch. Meg and the girls will not come for the launch. Meg hasn't missed one yet by the way .Last year Burton surprised me when he arranged for Emma to come with her mom.I will not get to attend WFNB's WordSpring and pass out the awards for the winners of the writing competition. I will not get to go to the NB Book awards and see Fear of Drowning highlighted as a short listed title.But I will get to continue to enjoy the comfort and privilege of being home. I will hopefully continue in good health. My husband and I will begin our 44th year of marriage still loving each other, still laughing and crying together and still each others best friend. I will begin the gardening season with the expectation that I will have lots of time to keep a weed free,flourishing garden with good yields. We will continue to clean up after the major renovations of last year and enjoy our new verandas. I will get closer to jumping in the lake.May will be a month filled with blessings and challenges as most months are.With March and April behind us let us look forward to brighter days,and be grateful for all our blessings.Let's see the world with Skyler's optimism and joy."That cookie wasn't stale Grammie."

Another Day at Home

When are you writing on your blog again? my daughter asked last night.I'll write tomorrow I answered. I do love it that she looks forward to reading what is on her mother's mind even though most days we talk on the phone for several minutes and cover many topics.Do you have to talk to your mother every day? her daughter asked once. Yes I do was her answer. I must say I am so thankful for our phone conversations. Burton says he can always tell when I'm talking to Meg because I am laughing non stop. So lying in bed this morning thinking about getting up to face another at home day I thought about this entry. What did I have to say today? On Wednesday I normally meet my friend Kathy and we go swimming , do some shopping and have lunch. This is the seventh Wednesday I have stayed home. For the most part I have been perfectly content to stay home. I have been getting lots of writing done and am reaching the end of the book I started in mid October.I have walked every day, baked a lot, played cards with my husband, watched TV and gotten through the days . I have processed the disappointment of these shut down days.No farmer's market yet,no 82 Moms, no book launch yet, no NB book awards , no school visit to Grand Manan,no grandchildren visits, possibly no summer visit from my girls, maybe no trip to Scotland. Once in awhile the disappointments creep in again and I have to give myself a talking to.Because of course even with the things I'll miss I have so much to be thankful for.I don't have anything profound to offer this morning. I, like the whole country am still struggling to deal with the horrific loss of life in Nova Scotia. I daily send up prayers for the loved ones left to piece their lives back together after such devastation. I daily send up prayers for my friends Paul and Alice as they walk their difficult path in these strange times when friends can't drop in to care for and comfort them. The sun shines this morning and April approaches its end. The month has flown by. Tomorrow we will celebrate 43 years of marriage. That perhaps deserves a blog entry of its own.But today we are at home.Our bubble is small but our blessings are many.

Release, Receive, Return

No words. Words are not enough. How can we ever find the words? Until a few minutes ago that is how I was feeling. When thinking about writing a blog entry after the horrendous happenings that took place in Nova Scotia on the weekend I was speechless, at a loss for words, silent. My heart is so heavy with grief and disbelief. I have heard countless news reports, interviews,lists of names and personal stories of the victims. I am overwhelmed. But a few minutes ago I texted a friend to tell her I was missing our Wednesday swimming, shopping and lunch outing and in her reply she asked me if I'd heard Sheree Fitch's CBC interview yesterday on CBC Information Morning Saint John. I hadn't and quickly searched for it. And there were the words. Not my words, not Sheree's words but three words you can find in any dictionary. Release , Receive and Return.Just three words but when put together provide a powerful message about healing.I will get back to them but first will elaborate on the gift of Sheree's interview . She read the poem 'Because We Love , We Cry' that came to her a few mornings ago. This beautiful collection of words was read in a press conference from New Brunswick and has been shared on social media. Comforting words that came to Sheree as she woke up in tears. Words she shared and words that are touching others. The tragedy in NS unfolded on April 18th and the 18th and 19th are dates that will be permanently chiseled into the minds and hearts of so many. April 18th was already for me a meaningful and difficult date. I have found myself in the last few days feeling guilty, or at least somewhat selfish for still feeling such pain after 21 years when this new anguish is so raw for so many. But when I step back and look at that I realize as I have known all along, one person's pain does not diminish another's . We do not outrank or upstage another's loss by the depth of ours. What the families of this weekend's victims must process is huge and I can not even fathom it which it why of course it leaves us without words.But somehow we find words. We find words to express love and loss . We find words to comfort others. We find words to cling to and to keep us from drowning in the grief.For me on this day I hold on to the three words Sheree uses to describe the healing she finds in the labyrinth her husband built on their property. I have walked that circle of stones as have so many and know the beauty of the exercise. I also know the truth of those three words as I daily take my wood road walk. Some days I enter the woods with so much to release I feel I can not carry it. At some point along the walk I gaze up at the sky and am able to release the pain, the worry, the heaviness.Some days it feels as if it all dissipates when other days only a fraction of it lifts. But every day I receive . Some days I am filled up beyond measure with a peace, a calmness and a comforting assurance. And then I return.I have heard it said that grief is hard work and I know that to be true. So much hard work is now ahead for so many and I pray for each and everyone.