A home run

Literally. We ran to get home.

Week(end) at Bernie’s

For years the guys at work teased me about having a Weekend at Bernie’s. About 5 years ago I finally watched the movie. Dead guys weigh a lot more than he did is all I’m going to say on that subject. As to a real weekend at Bernie’s…spoiler alert. No one died. No one was even spoilt!

Old school indeed

I wanted to make a fancy daily journal but didn’t find the items I had been looking for. So I went old school. Like as basic as it gets as I don’t even any gold stars like we got at school.

No Floral Scent

#SundayStills challenge is a real challenge here where not much is blooming at this time of year. So I decided to do a bit of a retrospective floral show with a bit of a surprise twist at the end.

In small flashes

It’s arriving, in small flashes. At first I thought it was just spring. You know – more daily sunshine hours and the worst of the cold is gone although lots of snow remains. Perhaps it’s planting a few seeds that will grow up to be tomatoes & other nummy things in a few months. Might be the return to fairly decent sleeps with less back pain and therefore I am less testy/irritable/grumpy out of sorts. But here’s the thing. I think it’s actually hope. Showing up in small flashes. In tiny little ways that kindle more hope. Some very concrete ways and some more the glimmer in the distance. I’ll take it on this roller coaster journey called life.

My current juxtaposition

The pale colours near the horizon give way above to the fading indigo. Dawn creeps across the sky. The yard lights, which dot the valley to the east, a steady spot on a quiet morning.

Occasionally I leave for work early enough to stop for a photo! Not often.

2 Years On…

2 years of Covid-19

Of no hugs

2 years of lockdowns

Of no hugs

2 years of mandates

Of no hugs

2 years of isolation

Of no hugs

2 years of restrictions

Of no hugs

2 years of bubbles

OF NO HUGS

Linking to Hope

If I should ever sit down to write all the words in my head I am quite certain I will become a confirmed insomniac. It seems to me that the words flow inside my head in the dark. The ideas glimmer and then seem to gel into place. But… the second I get up to write them down they vanish. That’s the gist of this post. I had it in my head but now it seems to be a bunch of fragmented spotty segments that won’t tie together.

Loads on the shelf

I have quite a little stack of books on the trunk by my chair right now.  Just not quite enough hours to read them all but I am slowly working my way through them. There is a reason it’s slow going.

It’s ok not to be ok…

I’ve been “lucky”. The starring role has always evaded me and the supporting role, while not comfortable at all, is where I have experience.