Rain, Rain Go Away

The yard is vibrant, lush green exploding with new growth in the dampness, after days and days of nearly non-stop rain…more to come.   

Only the goldfinches get pleasure from the sopping weather.  They twitter and hiss, merrily flitting between trees and feeders.

I hear the goldfinches communicating, whistling and warbling and trilling.

Indoors, I am inclined to relax and read.  From the kitchen, the fan-club watches, intensely intrigued.

Moving Mum

Mum is moving.  She is enthusiastic about setting up her new apartment at the home of my niece and her partner.

It will be a lively energetic place to live.

They have a charming old farmhouse, where the edge of the city meets the country.  Mum will be able to have a garden and be outdoors and enjoy nature.  She’ll also be able to spend time with my niece’s two children, soon to become three.

Mum is excited.

Family have been helping her to pack and to get organized with the mover, disconnections and hook-ups, mail forwarding, address changes and all of that.

Mum is a brave and determined soul. It has been just shy of 6 years since she gave up her own older, country home, ten miles from the city, and moved to an apartment in the town of Riverview.  She was content there for awhile but things have changed. 

Her current “pleasant upper level apartment, with a picturesque view of Lake Petitcodiac” was purchased by a real estate management company.  The needs of tenants and the upkeep of the property are just business now, with no humanity or real caring in evidence.  The lake itself has become mud flats and even for the good natured, the view is, well… not so appealing.

So, Mum is keen to move back to a more scenic rural atmosphere, and closer to a family she dearly loves.  She’s moving at month’s end, just a few weeks away; lots to do. 

Her current apartment is piled with boxes, some flattened, empty and waiting, some filled with fragile loved objects that must be moved by car and some waiting for the professional movers on the Big Day.  Her whole place smells like “eau de cardboard”.

Family will help her, but moving is still a work-filled change for her.  She is courageous and adventuresome so all will be well.

I hope she’ll be happier in her new apartment.  It’ll be busy at first, as there will be a flurry of --cleaning, unpacking, decorating, nest-making, and gardening.

We’ll see how it goes.  In the meantime, we are collecting cardboard boxes, newspapers, wrapping paper, sticky packing tape, sharp scissors, coloured markers and we’re packing, packing, packing…


 To learn more about issues around Lake Petitcodiac,  use the following  link.  http://lappa.ca/ 

Beth Powning

I met Beth Powning last evening.

She was at the Riverview Public Library reading from her latest novel The Sea Captain’s Wife, which has been short-listed for the Thomas Raddall Atlantic Fiction Award, in Canada; and is a Barnes and Noble Award Book for May/June, in the USA.   http://www.seacaptainswife.ca

“Beth Powning’s work has been widely published in books, anthologies, and magazines.  She is known for her lyrical, powerful writing and the profound emotional honesty of her work.” 

I felt delight at meeting her.  I cherish the poignant integrity with which she writes, and learned much from her thoughtful, direct answers to questions.  She was warm, wise, gentle and passionate. 

I was encouraged to hear her admit to feelings of insecurity every time she starts to write another novel.  Amazing, considering her past successes:  Seeds of Another Summer (published in the U.S. as Home: Chronicle of a North Country Life); Shadow Child: An Apprenticeship in Love and Loss; The Hatbox Letters; and Edge Seasons.

Beth Powning shared stories about where the ideas for her novels come from, how she does her intense research, her character building methods, her writing schedule, her granddaughters, her husband, her home and what she loves and what she doesn’t love about her craft.  She was welcoming and kind-hearted as she responded to questions.

Writing since she was eight years old, her life-long love of words is evident in the glow of her face and her easy smile.  She does glow, just look at her photo!  In person she glowed too…with wisdom, health, openness, comfort with her abilities, a love of life and a centeredness that was so appealing.

I am excited to have met her, a feeling tinged with envy and flooded with enthusiasm for writing.

If you’d like to know more about Beth Powning, use this link.  http://powning.com/beth

Another Rainy Day

The rain puddles fat pearls on the window pane.  Droplets skitter down the screens, moving in a zigzag from one square to another square to another, drawn down to the earth.

A curtain of green hangs behind the rain splashed window.  New leaves, frilled pea-green, verdant lawn wildly dark and lush, flourishing weeds gaining foothold in flower beds, new frosted-emerald tips on the evergreens, lacy lime-green hanging in drifts from the rowan tree.  Yellow and red bird-feeders break the viridescence, as they shake and shudder and flash in the wind-driven rain.

Mist-white birch trunks stand stark above the tumbled, grey-glistening stone wall.  And a few hearty, luminous daffodils sway gold, waving in the cold, wet air.

The rough brown cedar fence leans away, away in the harsh wind; a wind that buffets and prods the tousled pink fuzz on black branches of the soaked crab apple tree.

The impenetrable surface of the neighbour’s deep pond is sable, pock marked by the heavy rain.  A mating pair of mallards shelter beneath the overgrown hedge that borders the pond, occasionally venturing out to shake their wings and enjoy the wetness filling the wind around them.

The stormy day pushes at an open window, proffering hints of ripe wetness, fresh scents and new life.  Snippets of wind-tossed bird song; echoes of warbles seep into the house.  

The earth is thirsty, drinking full, stretching and coming alive in the ancient damp rituals of spring.

It Rains

It rains and rains and rains…

It is cold again, sheeting rain drives against the windows.  Rainwater splatters thickly; the window pane is glazed, pebbly and opaque with water.

The bursts of rain thunk, thunk, thunk, drumming on the roof, as though a hundred heavy-footed squirrels are up there tap-dancing.

The temperature, until today seasonal for New Brunswick, has plummeted back to near freezing.  The steady wind pushes the cold into the house and into my bones, aggravating aches and pains.

Across the river, the city lights are water blurred pin-dots of light, orange-gold and blue-white.  The darkness of pelting water swallows the streets and buildings.

Even the cats are disinterested in their usual entertainment of window gazing.  They prefer to cuddle on the sofa and snooze, warm, toasty and resting.

Possibly a sensible idea!

Thank You

Thank you for phone calls and flowers and visits and cards. 
Thank you for rose bushes, pansies and tulips.
Thanks for making me feel loved. 
Thank you for a delicious supper and for good company shared. 

Happy Mother's Day to me!

Happy Mother's Day 2011

Happy Mother’s Day 2011

I have ten healthy, bright and lovable grandchildren, ranging in age from two to sixteen years.  They each have wonderful, nurturing, loving mothers.  I am fortunate.  I have two amazing daughters and three amazing step-daughters…each one is a creative, capable, talented, strong woman.

Happy Mother’s Day, with much love…to M & M & P & J & J.

 

You each mother your children lovingly and well, in your own special and unique ways.  Enjoy this day!

I hope when my granddaughters and grandsons grow to be adults, they will look back at this time and recognize what opportune childhoods they have had.

Happy Mother’s Day to my mother, who raised five of us…with much struggle, heartache and joy.  And who continues, through the generations of children, grandchildren and great-grand-children, to support and nurture us all.  I love you.

Happy Mother’s Day!

The image is mine.