Words are Not Enough

 How can I write about this? How can I not write about this? As a mother, a grandmother, a retired Grade 4 teacher, as a mother who has lost a child and as a human being I am shaken to the core. We all are. The very depth of this evil horrific thing is too much for anyone to grasp. Eva,Xavier,Jose,Irma,Nevaeh,Ellie,Tess,Lexi,Jacklyn,Jailah,Jayce,Miranda,Amerie,Makenna,Layla,Maite,Annabell,Eliahana,Rojelio,Alithia,Uziyah.

We will remember them for a few days. Their loss will be referred to and calculated in the terrible statistics surrounding school shootings. Words of  sadness , condolence, regrets, anger , blame and dismissal will be uttered. But for the loved ones and those left behind with the deep wounds of  May 24th, 2022 words will never be enough .

When a House is a Home

 Today I feel led to give tribute to a house that was built  on a hill, on a dirt road by two young people who had no idea what they were doing. The couple walked up the long driveway past an old foundation of a house that had burned down many years before on property the young man's father had gifted him, believing his young son was a farmer at heart. A few years before the two  had dreamed of a life together while on the property, which is another story for another day but a memory that still makes them laugh. Their first  undertaking settling  on that land was to build a small shed with a loft and  move in with their two year old son while the man traveled a lot with the military and the woman began her first teaching job. The little shed had very little in the way of amenities but they moved in with as much excitement as some would into a mansion. They bought sheep and began a farm with faulty fences and half finished outbuildings. The woman became great with their second child and still climbed the ladder to the loft believing a second child would fit into this small space and she would be fine with no running water. A story of an unfinished  macrame crib designed to hang over the older brothers' corner bed is a good one too. A mobile home was bought while the husband was away and the four settled into that, welcoming a third child three years later. The big house was always the dream and one evening the woman saw a piece on the CBC news about a cordwood house and the seed was sown. This was definitely a case of not having a clue what they were doing but they did it anyway. Hole dug one year, footing the next, foundation the next  and cordwood walls constructed laboriously  one full way round at a time,  beginning on July first and laying the last run on November 17th. The next year the top floor and roof were put on and they moved in on December 15th with very little of the interior finished. I am tearing up now as I remember them  standing with  their  three kids in front of  the  Christmas tree with the bare cordwood walls still showing, holding a cake celebrating their house-warming. The house was not that warm the first winter! Eventually the walls were  covered with drywall, crack-filled and painted, flooring and finishing touches were added. A couple of years later  they welcomed their fourth child and improvements were made as they could afford them. Lots of changes, improvements and living  have brought the house on the hill to where it is today. This house has always been a home, as the small shed had been and the mobile home was. For that man and woman the property they walked and dreamed of building a home and a family on has been the only place they have known.  But a next  chapter is being written for this couple. The home they lovingly built  will welcome the next  generation , a new farmer and  the woman he loves and  shares  his vision.  A new family will reside in it's thick, strong walls and the former couple will take their dreams across the road, follow a  new vision and make a new structure into a home. I am really tearing up now , but I am filled with pride, hope , joy and excitement. 

And You Call Yourself a Blogger?

 I call myself many things and others call me lots of things as well. I will start with my list; wife, mother , grandmother, sister, niece, sister in law, friend, author for a few. Burton calls me Mrs. White. My kids call me Mom. Two of my grandkids call me Monkey and three of them call me Grammie. I am called Sue more than Susan. "And you call yourself a blogger" my daughter said today when she asked if I was going to write a blog  this afternoon. Earlier she told me I looked old so maybe I look as tired as I feel today. I just sat down at my desk and made a list of the tasks I hope to tackle. I put blog on the top of the list. Why? Not because I call myself a blogger or because my blog coach told me to. I am writing this entry to process and evaluate who I am on this day and why I do what I do. I could nap instead. Today I held my twelfth book in my hands. Being able to do so does not come without a lot of hard work and concentration. I love being an author and I am thrilled to hold another book but the effort and success of doing

so is just a small part of everything else I do at this stage in my life. It used to be teaching that took up so much energy and space in my every days. I used to juggle raising four kids , keeping a house and farm, maintaining a marriage and friendships, being a daughter to aging parents and so on and so on. Today I had planned on driving to Moncton to see my dear Aunt Ruth but a mis-communication changed my plans. Perhaps things happen for a reason as I believe they often do. Maybe I will have more reserves and be better prepared the next time and I will get to sit and visit with my beloved namesake aunt. I do not call myself a blogger but I call myself a pretty darn resourceful, caring and  resilient woman. An old woman perhaps but I venture to say I pretty tough old cookie never the less. Call me whatever you like but I will keep showing up and doing my best for the people I love. I will also keep counting my blessings, take my rest when I can get it and sometimes I'll even blog about it.

Charging my Battery

 I have been busy and as my blog coach( my daughter) has repeatedly  told  me I have not blogged for awhile. Truth is I have not written many new words in the last couple of weeks either. I do however feel confident that I will return to my work in progress and  the current characters I've imagined in to being will wait  for me to tell their stories. That is the fun part. I have spent time working on the last minute details of the cover and interior of Jasper's Road and I believe it will go to print very soon. I am looking forward to holding the third book in my Walton Lake series in my hands and offering it up to readers . I return to the Kingston Farmer's market on May 7th and am excited to be with my fellow vendors again and to meet new and loyal readers. I hope to be able to have Jasper's Road on the table by June. The anticipation of that does charge my battery. Spending time with friends and family does too and I have enjoyed both in the last while. The 82 Moms had a two night Road Trip  and it was wonderful. We talked , laughed, walked , played games and ate. We ate a lot making up for the  two years  we didn't meet monthly.  We pretty much brought two years of food to one trip and did our best to savor it all. Coming back afterwards to where I'd left my vehicle I found that my battery was dead.  My Rav has been very dependable and I did not like the feeling of not being able to just jump in and drive away. I was given a boost and on Monday was able to get it to the dealer and get a new battery put in which was an easy fix and not deserving of  all the fretting  and worrying  I did over it. Afterwards I gave myself a firm talking to and maybe little by little I am learning to not get so bothered by such things. My battery needs full charge to take on the months ahead that are presenting huge changes. One day at a time and one foot in front of the other. As I look ahead I look back as well and feel such gratitude for where I find myself.  I am not exactly sure what lies around the bend but I know the sun will rise and shine and set and I will be given the  energy and strength I need.

What April Is

It is a beautiful April day. The sun is shining and I feel optimism and hope. Today I am filled with contentment , happiness and gratitude. I look to the future with confidence as exciting changes and plans are being  thought through and worked out offering vison and hope for us all. April is often that kind of month despite it being the life changing month it was for our family twenty three years ago. It is with so much gratitude I face another April and look forward to the blessings ahead. There has been nothing easy about the road we've been on but on it we still are. Final details are being attended to before my twelfth book as well as the tenth anniversary edition of my first one goes to print. Burton and I approach our 45th wedding anniversary stronger and wiser and more determined to keep carrying on as best we can with all we've been given. My heart swells with joy as it resides beside the sorrow. As one early review said of the Year Mrs. Montague Cried , despite the sorrow there is indeed a bright yellow sun behind the clouds.

My Oxygen Mask

 Who forgets to breathe? No-one. We live so therefore, we breathe. The breath of life is something we take for granted unless of course something impedes our breathing. We think about our breathing the most if for some reason we are having trouble breathing. My chain of thought this morning is about breathing, self care and making choices to help us breathe better.  Put your own oxygen mask on first comes to mind. I have often thought of that saying and use it when talking about my self care. I realized yesterday that my 'Everyone's Ok' has taken a bit of a back seat to the mantra ' I'm OK ' lately. Is that selfish? Not  if you follow the oxygen mask instruction. The  key to truly benefiting from putting your own oxygen mask on first is leaving it on long enough for it to do any good.
I intend to do just that. I will of course continue to care about my people and my work but my goal is to put my needs first. Radical and life changing but something we all should do so that we are well enough to be there for those who need us to be. Tomorrow my granddaughter turns thirteen. How quickly she has grown into a young woman. She has so much to learn and so much to discover. I hope in all that discovery she keeps her  own well being at the forefront. 

Spring is Upon Us

 I feel the tug of Spring. Ice flows in the river, depleting snowbanks, muddy driveways and yards, longer days and warm rays of sunshine are but a few. We look behind and ahead. Memories of deep snow and bitter cold make way for thoughts of crocuses and forsythia blossoms. Again I will launch a new book and I look forward to returning to the Farmer's market on Saturdays. And here it is Monday again and I have a day and week ahead of me that holds promise and potential. I have time to write new words and do not take that for granted. So I will get to work on this first day of Spring.