First Budge Wilson

 It is Monday morning and here I am, happy, grateful ,with a full list and lots of motivation. My bath has been run, I have checked off three items on my Monday morning list and it is coming on to lunchtime. But first before I go any further I will stop and spend some time with Budge Wilson. Budge Wilson passed away  on Friday at age 93. What a treasure on this lovely spring day to sit with Budge and just listen. She talks about six long years of rejections and a teacher named Freda Pike being her motivator and whose words she held on to during rejection and doubt. She then moves on to family dsyfunction and I hang off her wise words. No perfect family. Problems with families when other factors enter the scene. No tidy resolutions. She regards the greatest compliment to her work is someone finding themselves in her books. 'Merciful in their judgements' being one of her writing goals. Oh Budge you will be missed and we are thankful for the body of work you have left behind. Time well spent as I attempt to deal with family , with writing, with  healing and

with living this life I  have been  blessed with.

Weekends , Time Change and Winning

We are a game playing family. It isn't many meals we have that we don't clear the table afterwards and ask which game we're playing. Sunday suppers continue but  have changed over the years and with Covid are reduced to our smaller family bubble. Meg, Cody and the girls have been with us since August , Jenna is now a part of our family circle and Alice joins us every week. On this another Monday morning I find myself reflecting , rallying and regrouping or at least trying to. I woke with today's title in my head. I had a busy night of dreaming that seemed to have me frantically trying to put someone's house in order. Cleaning , purging, rearranging a house that at one point seemd to be my mother in laws and another seemed to be Megan's and then mine.My house in order. Jenna laughed at me Friday as I paniced about the dirt and dog hair I could see billowing on the floor in the late afternoon sun. Taking up my broom as if it were a lifeline,  something  to hang on to to save my life, I swept and took back a smidge of control. Oh boy a therapist could have a field day with me.I have mentioned before how I say " Ok Everyone" out of the blue and my family makes great fun of that. But in writing those words my eyes well up and I don't find it quite as funny. Ok we are Ok, everyone is OK. I looked after the girls all weekend , I prepared and served a Sunday supper, I turned the clocks whichever way they needed to go, except for the one in the kitchen that seems to have a mind of it's own even with a new battery.And I won a couple of games this weekend. Funny how lately I have put the winners in my journal as if it matters at all or will matter in years to come who won Wizard on March 14th,2021.As if my journals will matter in years to come. What matters right now is that we fight the good fight. We use our Mondays to gird our strength  for our Sundays. We play our games and have our time together. We accept change and challenge and play the hand we're dealt. We win and lose with grace and humor. 

Things Are Going Swimmingly

 I pondered the title for today's blog entry. I wanted it to have something to do with swimming. I considered Swimming Against the Tide. I really had no desire to blog but as often happens my daughter(aka blog coach)asked for one.The use of aka reminds me of my granddaughter Paige's repeat of one of her 3 positives at every suppertime. She has a couple she repeats and one of them is " I'm sitting beside my wonderful Grampie(aka the keeper of fun )". So perhaps this entry will just be a rambling of sorts. I will begin with swimming. What does going swimmingly even mean? Good question.I love to swim and today my friend Kathy and I went back to the pool. We haven't done our Wednesday thing since November 12th. It felt great to swim again and makes me anxious for the lake. I do not want to rush the seasons though. For now I will walk and snowshoe and enjoy my woods. I am also busy with the first round of edits for The Wright Retreat. I am about half done and really shouldn't linger long on this entry. I love the editing process and am looking forward to re-working the ending which Penelope felt wasn't working. What a gift to have such a caring and intuitive editor  who pushes me to do better. My edits are going swimmingly. Life for the most part on this beautiful March day is going swimmingly. I am thankful and anxious to get back to the ten writers who have gathered at the Wright Retreat. And there is swimming; even skinny dipping ,so all is good.

One Day in the Sun

 The days are getting longer and the sun is getting stronger.The seasons of our lives have predicability along with surprise. I love February. I have points of reference for each month and season and feel an internal clock and calendar from the sum of all my experiences. Even though this is the twelth year away from the classroom I feel the tug of March Break. I understand the fatigue and weariness of fighting the good fight from January to March and looking forward to the rest March Break provides. I can only imagine how with all the challenges Covid has brought just how much more intense that exhaustion feels. Now people who don't quite get it would say that storm days and shortened weeks should be respite enough but teachers know the truth of the demands they face every day and a break is welcome. This year of course is different. Can't imagine there are many people looking forward to trips south or trips anywhere. We will probably have two of our grandchildren most days and most nights. So my trips into the woods are necessary. I need to stand under  the canopy of trees gazing up at the sky to clear my head and tune in to my internal calendar.Each day a checkmark on the days we are given and each one a treasure in itself. Two days ago Megan and the girls made a snowman. The snow was just right the sun and temperature perfect for being outside.Grampie posed with the girls even though he'd had no part in building the snowman. Meg said to get in the picture because he had a part in the girls being  in New Brunswick (escaping Alberta). He stood happily between Little Toad and Tiny Toad , a moment  frozen in time and recorded in a photograph. The next day the snowman had tumbled, his head and middle ball nearly gone, his carrot nose lying in the snow and his buttons strewn about. His day in the Sun was over. Snowmen don't last and days can't be re-lived. Seasons come and go and each day is a gift. 

 

She Loved to Snowshoe

 Yesterday on my trek to the woods I had the passing thought of a line that could be written someday in my obituary. She loved to Snowshoe. I often stop up in the woods and take in the beauty and the overwhelming feeling of happiness I feel there. Pondering that line I thought 'What is it I love about snowshoeing?' My mind began unravelling that . Through the woods to Grandma's house, the fairy tale element of a winding path taking us somewhere familiar, somewhere amazing,somewhere we are recieved and loved. The winding paths are a source of joy to me. The exploration, the adventure , the challenge. The familiar and the unknown. Yesterday I weaved my way through an already established trail finding my way back through the woods I had a few days ago forged unknowingly. I love both situations. I love heading out on untouched snow but I also love following a path. I will be sorry if today's weather covers my snowshoe trail but will be willing to head out and make a new one. The snow was perfect the last few days. It was deep enough to cover obstacles and the going was great. I sometimes spend two hours up there and it never quite seems like enough. If I go a day or two without going I feel an emptiness and longing. Sometimes I wake in the night and transport my self back there in my imagination. I thought yesterday of the day when I may not be able to snowshoe or walk up the wood road. I hope that day is far away. Grampie and I make Emma and Paige put on snowshoes and head up the hill. They reluctantly follow and possibly have a little bit of fun. They head back with Grampie knowing Monkey needs more. Monkey needs the woods. It occurs to me to make the comparison to my need to write and can see some parallels. I thought of many on my sojourn yesterday and maybe someday I'll write them down. Who knows if the girls will ever love snowshoeing the way I do. Perhaps for them it will be something else entirely that fills their souls and brings such joy. For me strapping on my snowshoes and heading into the woods is a gift and I'll keep doing it until I can't. Other things will probably be written and remembered about me but hopefully ' she loved to Snowshoe' will be right up there and the people who love me will understand just why.

Zoom, Zoom, Zoom

 Who would have thought it? I remember a time I thought figuring out how to set up a Zoom meeting, interview or launch was way too difficult for me and my limited technical abilities. My first real attempt was last year for the NB Book awards and it didn't come easy. But little by little, through trial and error I found my way . I am still quite excited when it does come together and apart from the intial shock  everytime  I see my face  on the screen I am adapting to it.If this is the norm for now until we can actually meet together, I will continue to do my best with it. Last night I had a lovely interview with Molly from Digitally Lit. Molly is an enthusiastic , confident and personable grade nine student from Newfoundland. She prepared a great interview, sharing her love for the Sewing Basket. I was thrilled to hear her kind and encouraging comments and answer her thoughtful questions. The first couple of minutes were edited out as Disco, my son's adorable dog who was unhappily put out of my office reacted to someone coming to the back door. Before shutting my office door I told my two  granddaughters they had to come off their Ipads so the WiFi would be stronger. I shut out my life and for a few minutes became just an author answering questions. Molly asked some great questions and for the most part I was able to answer with some clarity. I do tend to ramble and get off track and often forget the original question . But right away we seemed to form a back and forth connection that was genuine. How can an author not love hearing how much a book she wrote meant to a reader ( and her grandmother)? I remember having so much fun at the NB Book awards and really enjoying my Zoom book launch for When the Hill Came Down. I loved the fact  that when it was over I was already in my comfortable , warm  home. I could just go downstairs where I was   welcomed back by my family and my loyal granddog. I am all these things, a wife, a mother, a dog lover, a grandmother , the cheif cook and bottle washer, and an author who is always happy to talk about her work and her process. I am thankful that I get to do it all. 

  

The Rain Must Fall

 Apparently the rain must fall after the snow which is really annoying. I love a good snowfall. I love snowshoeing in the woods atop a deep cushion of brush, fallen trees and stumps. It is a freedom to explore like no other time of the year. Yesterday the snow fell but was quickly followed by freezing rain and then a driving rain suitable for a different season. So now we navigate the mess it left. Such is life. One thing I am thankful for this morning after is all my people got home safely and we did not loose our power. There is always something to be thankful for no matter what the challenge is. This too is life. The morning after, the calm after the storm, the aftermath and hope for a new day. Hope for the sun to shine. Figuring out where you stand and what your next move is. Adjusting, adapting, making choices and plans to fit with the reality. Lately I have been leaving my shoeshoes in different locations along the wood road. Able to walk on the tractor tracks with some trips off the track I snowshoe somewhere different every day and then hang my snowshoes up in a spot to retrieve them the next day and explore new territory. On Monday I thought breifly that I should probably bring them home knowing a storm was expected for Tuesday. I didn't and today it may be challenging to get where the snowshoes hang . Burton assures me he will drive the tractor up and break a trail and get them for me. We will figure it out and I may even have to wade through deep and crusty snow  on my next sojourn up the hill into the woods. The rain fell . It is what it is.