Wednesday’s Child

As they do from time to time, my birthday and Mother’s Day coincide this year. The last time that happened was 2017, six years ago; the next will be 2028, five years hence. I had to look that up.

The way that dates cycle erratically through the days of the week is not entirely clear to me. In theory, I get it: 365 days is not evenly divisible by 7, so we move by one day every year, except when we move by two for a Leap Year, but only after Feb 29. In practice, translating that into a pattern I can keep in my head has not yet happened. I’m guessing it won’t.

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Spring

Or should that be, sproing?

Yes, winter is done and Ottawa is into its compressed Spring, which operates much as  a compressed spring does when the pressure is released, sproinging into life, full life, all life all the time . . . for about 10 days. The flowers don’t last long, but they are spectacular while they do.

We started with the tulips in my own garden . . .

. . . and moved on to the slightly more extensive Festival of Tulips downtown.

Then the magnolia tree in our shaded backyard burst forth, less troubled by scavenging scumbags, er, squirrels than in other years.

Finally, the ornamental crabapple in the front yard did its 3-day-wonder trick. As I type this, these photos are from yesterday when the flowers peaked: Today, a light breeze is already lifting the petals off the twigs.

And so it goes: Beauty is transient and yet persistent. Fragile and yet utterly reliable. Gloriously diverse and yet one.

Something, I guess, like life itself.

Posted in Appreciating Deeply | Tagged | 8 Comments

It’s Official

I have become my mother: I’ve started to use idioms that young people do not understand.

When my parents moved into an assisted-living facility, my mother and some of her tablemates played an ongoing game with the teenaged servers in the dining room.  It started innocently enough with the inadvertent use of an idiom that the servers had never heard, and then the old people got right into it, trying to stump the kids. With a sixty-year gap, it wasn’t hard.

This week, someone somewhere-south-of-forty encountered my advice on selecting team members. I had been aiming for “memorable but concise”; instead I hit “obscure.”

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Posted in Language and Communication, Laughing Frequently | Tagged , , | 18 Comments

It’s Formal

Charles is King.

Of course he’s *been* King since his mother drew her last breath, but today’s coronation service formalized that fact. Oaths were administered and taken: not in a write-your-own-vows spirit or express-your-unique-individuality style, but oaths prescribed by centuries of ecclesiastical tradition. Oaths codified in legislation. Symbols of office were presented and accepted. Vestments heavy with tradition and just plain heavy were worn and then removed: Dressed simply and on his knees, Charles-the-man was anointed King behind a privacy screen, slightly jarring in a world in which our whole lives can be public. It reflected the sacredness of the act, at least as understood by those participating.

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Posted in Appreciating Deeply, Feeling Clearly | Tagged , , | 16 Comments

The Paving Stones of Good Intentions

I no longer do much gardening my own self. I pay someone to do the work requiring actual skill, like pruning, and I defer, delay, do-my-best-to-ignore the rest. Even so, every so often I must take action. I *could* pay someone to do the spring/fall yard clean-up, but I choke at the amount it would cost to outsource this unskilled labour, especially the cutting down of the wizened-up growth of nominally ornamental grasses. Who planted these things, anyway?

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Posted in Laughing Frequently, Thinking Broadly | Tagged , , | 12 Comments

Spring Runoff

I love to take pictures. Maybe you’ve noticed.

Sometimes, I find that I see more in the picture than I noticed when I was on the ground, squinting against the sun. Sometimes, I find that what the still photo doesn’t capture is integral to what I saw or experienced.

This video is the result of thinking about that in the context of a short drive in the country a week ago.

Posted in Appreciating Deeply, Nature Videos | Tagged , , | 13 Comments

My Whole Life

I am a one-kid illustration for glump.

glump: to look glum: FROWN

Sitting at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the half of our storey-and-a-half house in Edmonton, my head hangs, my shoulders slump. Can you blame me for glumping? I’ve just had terrible news: to wit, the wrong answer to my question.

Are they coming home today?

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Posted in Feeling Clearly, Laughing Frequently, Mortality, New Perspectives | Tagged , , | 8 Comments

See That?

Sometimes, there’s no rhyme or reason to the images I like: no pattern to play with, no story to tell. Sometimes, there’s just some fun. (Well, for me at least.) This is one of those times.

Blue shadow feet! Oh. No, that’s me that’s blue, not the shadow.

Look up (left). Look waaay up (right).

Reflections, like chocolate, are never wrong. Never.

Even an interstate rest stop can be beautiful.

Sunset Seen Through the Back Side-window of a Car Driving Through a Light-industrial Area (Titles are de rigeur on modern art, no? Also thinking of going with A Power Line Runs Through It.)

Aaah. The first entry for my to-do (i.e. to-play-with-again) list for next year.

 

Posted in Appreciating Deeply, Laughing Frequently, Photos of Flora, Photos of Landscapes | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

A Poem as Lovely as a Tree

They stand in clumps; they stand alone.

They flaunt themselves beside the Interstate; they lurk in the underbrush on distant hills.

They flower as full trees; they flower as bushes; they flower as single twigs stuck in the ground.

They clearly grow best in full sun; they obviously grow best in the shade.

In a 30-mile-or-so-square around Winchester VA, they grow *everywhere*. And they just happened to be at the peak of their blooming as we drove by last week.

There’s a poem in here somewhere, but a collage is faster. Here’s a  summary of 1/100th of what we saw, just from the Interstate.

And here’s the thing: We were not in Oklahoma. So what, you ask. So this, I respond: The redbud is the state tree of Oklahoma. Methinks they should have more redbud than Virginia, which is hard to imagine.

And here’s the other thing: They grow in hardiness zones 4 through 9. Where’s that, you ask. Everywhere in America, I respond.

And here’s the last thing: They’re Canadian. Yes, the American Redbud is actually Cercis canadensis. In Canada, they’re native only to Pelee Island (our southernmost point, roughly the same latitude as Northern California), but they grow elsewhere with some care, and you can buy one from these helpful folks.

What? Are you still here? Don’t let the Americans have all the fun. Get out and plant your very own redbud today.

Posted in Appreciating Deeply, Laughing Frequently, Photos of Flora | Tagged , | 18 Comments