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| Less than a week in, I feel the need to Blog. Not quite sure if I'm setting this up correctly, but what the heck, I'll give it a try! |
| ..... When It Is Too Dark To See, Is It Still Red? I just got back from some time up at the cottage with my husband, Wayne. The kids were supposed to come up with the grandparents on the weekend, but the forecast of rain scared Grandpa into staying home, so it was just Wayner and I – a treat I gladly accepted. The forecast wasn’t far off. It rained most days we were there, however it came as a surprise to all when the snow and hail fell out of the sky on Sunday. Neither stayed long on the ground, but it was bizarre seeing the humming birds fight against the blowing snow to remain hovered at the feeder. We ARE coming into June aren't we? Summer is in how many days?! The stormy day ended with a particularly calm evening, that inspired me to take the canoe out for an evening adventure. The lake was smooth and mirrored the clearing sky that was blotchy only by a few remaining clouds. The tired sun disappeared behind the western most pines, as I grabbed my fishing rod and climbed into my red canoe. I wondered if it was too late to be setting out across the bay, but I went anyways and reached the other side within minutes. I put out my fishing line (even though it is out of season for most fish) and caught the tiniest bass ever. He was so cute, with big round eyes - almost Disney'ish the way he looked at me and didn't fuss or struggle, as I pulled the hook out of his lip and dropped him back in the lake. His tail lapped the surface only a couple times and he was gone, disappearing into the inky black water. The afterglow lasted much longer than I expected. I assume it was my eyes that were adjusting to the low light, but night eventually settled in and the loons began to call. I even heard some coyotes get all roused up in the distance. I noticed our cottage lights come on across the bay. Wayne must have thought I'd need them. We have lights that light up the seventy-two stairs that climb up from the lake to the cottage. The fallen pine needles glow orange from the light and always make it look so pretty. The only other inhabited cottage also lit up within the pines on the island between us. It's light flickered off the surface of the water, as though purposefully laying down a glowing orange path to safely guide me home. Back at the dock I realized the hem of my pants were wet around my ankles from the residual rain still pooling in my canoe, but the crackling fire once inside the cottage, dried and warmed me up soon enough. I can't believe how much I can sleep up there - eleven hours last night. Sinful! "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." John 1:1 |
| I had a dream the other night. I was at my cottage where the snow sat heavily all around, dampening the sounds and settling in like a winter postcard. For some reason (that was never revealed in my dream) I had to go outside. I opened up the sliding glass door and stepped out into the cold white world. Fulfilling my unknown purpose, I walked over to the steps, but the snow had covered them so deeply that they hid completely beneath the white blanket. My foot reached blindly down for the first step - I knew approximately where it should be. It was deep alright, even beyond the top ridge of my Sorel boot. 'The stairs must be here,' I thought. I stepped out with my other foot, but something wasn't right. Both my legs kept sinking, as though there were no step - no hard surface to stand on. I tried to maneuver my body to stop myself from sinking further, but the snow would not support my weight. "Help!" I hollered just before my head dipped beneath the surface. Would someone have heard me? "HELP!" I panicked louder, as the snow encased me, tightly binding my legs and arms against my body. I couldn't move. The snow had swallowed me whole and was smothering me in it's thick silence. All I could do was look up and watch the round porthole to the sky rise away from me. The dream doesn't surprise me. I've just completed a two year project that has robbed much of my free time and left me drowning in a lack of direction. I made a decision just over a year ago to complete the project and move away from it, so I can then focus on doing the things I've been longing to do. I am finally able to S L O W D O W N. I found my personal theme song for this year and I'm pasting the lyrics below. It sums up how I've been feeling. Heading up to cottage very soon to write - yay for me! XD Hope to have internet there eventually (although it will be dial up - ughhh), but at least I will be able to stay in touch here. Slow Me Down Written by Stuart Brawley, Emmy Rossum & Bridget Benenate Performed by Emmy Rossum Rushing and racing and running in circles Moving so fast I'm forgetting my purpose Blur of the traffic is sending me spinning Getting nowhere My head and my heart are colliding chaotic Pace of the world I just wish I could stop it Try to appear like I've got it together I'm falling apart Save me Somebody take my hand and lead me Slow me down Don't let love pass me by Just show me how Cause I'm ready to fall Slow me down Don't let me live a lie Before my life flies by I need you to slow me down Sometimes I fear that I might disappear In the blur of fast forward I falter again Forgetting to breath I need to sleep I'm getting nowhere All that I've missed I see in the reflection Pass me while I wasn't paying attention Tired of rushing, racing and running I'm falling apart Tell me Oh won't you take my hand and lead me Slow me down Don't let love pass me by Just show me how Cause I'm ready to fall Slow me down Don't let me live a lie Before my life flies by I need you to slow me down The noise of the world is getting me caught up Chasing the clock and I wish I could stop it Just need to breath Somebody please Slow me down |
| I got home today just after 6pm and lay down on my bed for what was suppose to be a couple minutes - just enough time to reboot my thoughts. I woke up in darkness. The clock on my night table read 2:11am. I was still in my clothes and my son was snuggled in under the covers beside me. I must have crashed - not without needing it. I have been going with little sleep for several days now. Feels so good to power sleep :) Problem is, I can't get back to sleep, so I'm up now for the day. Ah well, breakfast will be good. |
| Rushing around my life is chaotic. I can't help but feel that I'll never catch up. Running so fast I've almost caught it, but I'm so tired. I need sleep. Just for a moment I do what I want to. Priorities altered to favour me. Swept up in its tide, it takes me away. I'm glad I stopped to play. But tomorrow is another day, and again it's getting away. |
| There is something so youthful about climbing into a fast car, cranking up the music and down the windows. Spring is here and the air is warm enough to roll back the sunroof too. Oh, and I do! The warm weather has been teasing me all week. Taunting me to come out and play. My shades are on and I ease into fourth gear. The wind playfully rouses my hair into a chaotic golden dance. I glance in the review mirror. The 'cool' factor is definitely there. I should have put on lipstick before I left the house, but worries are not for today. I'm fresh. I'm alive! My foot toys with the gas petal. I'm cruising in fifth now. The need for speed edges me on and I will enthusiastically oblige as soon as I get the chance. 'Streamline' by System of a Down suddenly comes on the radio as if by kismet. It's just the sort of fast paced raunchy song I need to pull me over to the dark side. The side where going slow isn't an option and tempting fate is fun. I laugh. There's a break in the traffic up ahead and I drop the gear to fourth as my foot instinctively hits the floor. The rpm advances and the engine screams – I’m in the red line. My adrenaline keeps up and I push it hard before slamming it into fifth. The mustang and I fly across the open road leaving the crusty cold winter far behind. |
| I didn't recognize early on, I enjoy rainy days. Sure they're necessary for a fertile land and water to drink, but a childhood rainy day sucks! Doesn't it? Stuck inside, with seemingly nothing to do. I charged those overcast skies with preventing me from doing what I really wanted to do, without realizing that they had in fact forced me to do things that I didn't know I'd prefer doing. |
| There are days that seem to last longer than my patience. Filled with things to do that don't stay done - dishes to wash, laundry to fold, meals to prepare. Done once, only to have to do again tomorrow. Some days it all works out - the lunches are made, the kids in school, the mountain of laundry is eroded to a hill. I even get back in time from the grocery store to prepare a wholesome meal before I rush off to pick up the kids again. Tonight is my daughters dance and my sons soccer. Our meal is eaten on the run. My husband is home, the day is dark and time to usher the kids to bed. Prayers are said. I pray their homework is done and I haven't forgotten something that will cost them too much. It's late by most standards, but my day is just about to begin. I turn off their lights and escape downstairs with my husbands snores chasing me down the hall. This is my time. I grin. Everyone's needs are silently dormant inside their dreams. Stillness surrounds my home like a secret lover baiting me for a midnight rendezvous. How can I say no, and why would I want to when I've patiently waited for this moment all day long. Such sweet silence that will go unbroken and undisturbed if I let it. 'I will be tired tomorrow', reason reminds me. But I already know too well that once lost in the melodious hum of my fingers clicking against the keyboard, dawn will arrive sooner rather than later. I yawn. I'm already tired, but my laptop glares at me. It sits seductively waiting for my return and folly seems the more attractive pursuit. I sit down, open the case and smile in reverie before my finger even hits a key. |
| My words can only seem bland after reading some incredible poems by the member Lorelei. I added him/her to my favourites. I find it interesting that I usually assume the authors are female unless stated. Maybe its my skepticism that men could in fact possess the taste buds necessary for savouring the flavour of words. (YES, I am Canadian - thus the added 'u' in many words.) Don't be angry with me. It is in my ignorance that doubt clouds my ability to see that they too have a soul and mind capable of expressing emotion. It is comforting to learn that it was just that - ignorance. |
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