Good things will happen

I check the calendar regularly. Below it sits the “to do” list, which even in semi retirement, I can’t seem to let go of. Today, for some reason, my eyes strayed to the words beside the pictures on the calendar.

#Sundaystills rural mural

My granddaughter is hugely into rhyming these days so I think she would like the title of today’s post. I rather wish she had been with me during my drive-by shooting that inspired this post but alas she declined to go on a roadtrip with Nan.

Thursday’s Crossroads

The crossroads sign can stop us and send us down a sunny dirt road and sometimes it’s just that. Occasionally a deer or moose can come out of no where and smack. It’s even possible for a tornado to pick up your vehicle. Sometimes the road literally falls away.

Dear vaccine

I heard an interesting interview on CBC. The University of Arizona is seeking poetry submissions about how the vaccine has made us feel. So below is my version using a couple of the suggested prompts. I’ve had this in my draft file for a while and just reworked it to reflect new feelings and, sadly, the current world situation.

Covid in the Rearview mirror

The names roll into my head long before the road sign shows what town is next. The new shingles here or the added grain bins there stand out in my mind. I’ve been on this same trip literally dozens of times. But not since the pandemic and that in itself is what makes it feel a bit like a foreign world.

Weathered by the weather

I had no plans to do the latest #Sundaystills prompt about weather. But I’ve spent the last 10 days being weathered and it gave me a concept.

Make Monday Meaningful

Something I read yesterday stuck with me and early early this am I created my own version. Then I coloured it and organized the side of the fridge around it. It takes me to “my happy”.

It’s like that song…

It’s like the Lamb Chops song — the one that goes on and on. You know – this one! Did you go listen? It’s an ear worm for sure but kind of cute!

The storm rages on

The storm rages on and gathers momentum. It plummets the land and obscures vision. Suddenly it dies down and the people wait, with bated breath, and wonder if it’s over or if this is the eye of the storm. In a flash the intensity returns and multiples. The people hunker down and hope for the best.

Quiet Time

There’s a far too brief period in the afternoon, in the households of those with toddlers and preschoolers, where quiet time exists. Where parents (or grandparents because we need it even more!) enforce a block of time in the bedroom. A chance for everyone to catch their breath, so to speak, for the next round. It’s not a written parenting law but it’s a good plan. It provides a brief respite for parents and helps the child learn to amuse themselves.