Gimme, Gimmee, Gimmeee!

Puppy adores presents.  Assumes every gift-wrapped package is for him –

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“Gimme, gimmee, gimeee ….” (Puppy and Ruwan)
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“Hey … gimme!”  (Puppy and Reshma)


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Nope!  

                 

         

 

 

 

 

 

 

Got  caught red-handed on Christmas Eve, snooping  around tree.

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“To Pup” … gift tag and tissue flung aside.  Hole in the bag.  He found his present.
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Looks like it
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“Finally, all mine.” (Had to hide the bag till Christmas morning).
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“Don’t remember.  Never graduated !”
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 “Oh, hello Santa, it was you all the time!”
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So who killed Santa?
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Didn’t do it!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Guilty …

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Not me!
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    Fine, call the cops!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Puppy lives in state of constant joyous expectation.

Fabulous way to live …

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“Something yummy, for sure!” (Puppy and Friend Jim)
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Every moment, no matter what comes along

Living life in Puppy Mode …

Sunshine and shadow – embrace it all.

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Me in splash of sunlight
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Christmas decorations on kitchen wall
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Ivy topiary in foyer
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Orchid on kitchen table

 

 

 

 

 

 

Life’s treasures – darkness, light; good, the bad, lovely and ugly.

Rich fodder for this writer’s pen, if nothing else …

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Driving home at dusk.  Lamplight over court.

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Life often presents real live parables.  Puppy is mine.

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…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

I have dreams.

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More than one, actually
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BIG DREAMS
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Just did. 

A secret path leads to dreams.  Winds through dusty roads, up dim stairways and rugged steps, along endless corridors.  

Along the way –

  • Jeers, sceptics, wet blankets –
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Mean comments
  • Dead ends, slammed doors –
  • Grim warnings –
  • Unforseen restrictions –
  • Disappointments, endless waits –

And yet –

Impelling urges on, blazing inferno that won’t be quenched.  Lurks just beneath surface of immediate consciousness, hangs like  mist, a veil through which real world is viewed.

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Endless
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Clinic for  weary dreamers?
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As fast or as slow as it takes

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Still …    

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Yes! (Tiana’s T-shirt)
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That’s me!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hebrews 11:1 Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see … 

Fueled by burning urge to write –

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Really do  
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At my desk
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Out on the deck

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So, no matter how I feel –

Must keep going –

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You want me to … what?
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Hey, it’s freezin’ out here!

                   Okay, all done, and good luck with shoveling up that poop when the snow thaws …

Never mind what they say.

One piggy, second pig, third pig …

and …

Ha! 

Nope!  Long before that …

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Okay.
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A swine state of affairs!

And now –

Don’t know.  

Won’t find out till I try … 

Finally, one sweet day –

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And it was all worth it after all …
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Light at the end of the tunnel 

                                                            Aren’t you glad you made the climb?

Every day is Christmas for Puppy, any moment might bring gifts.

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Every day is NOT Christmas (back of scooter taxi, Colombo, Sri Lanka)
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                                                        Christmas Eve. Bone-shaped stocking – guess whose?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thankful for Puppy, a parable of joy and daily expectation.

Gimme, gimmee … gimmeee!

Until next time,

sincerely

PS: The pictures in this post are all random clicks on Ipad and phone.

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Toilet Paper Brides

New Year rolls in. 

Brings gifts –

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Soaring postage costs.  Not many Christmas cards last year.

 – three hundred and sixty five days untrodden, all gift-wrapped.

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Reams of resolutions.  High hopes in spite of/ because of …

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What next? 

Then comes …

 Evening news.  Burning building collapses.

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Downtown Tehran. Authorities ignored warnings about structural weakness
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Flaming highrise falls down flat

 

 

 

 

 

Shades of 9/11 …

Pick up phone to text Neighbour–

Me:  (tap, tappity-tap) Hope your family wasn’t near the building that came down in Tehran.

Neighbour (texts):  Thank God, none of my family members was in that area.  I knew this building very well since my father used to have an office there when I was little.  My mother was working, so he would take me to his office after school.  It’s all so sad.

Me: (Tap, tap): Thank God.  Sad, yes.

Avalanche in Italy buries ski resort.  More earthquakes. Tsunami warning. Shooting in Texas mall.

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 Never ends.  So what’s changed?

 Nothing, it seems, but …

  • Must keep looking upward, focus outward, embrace light. 
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Puppy embracing light
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Dawn over neighbours’ homes
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Moonrise above next door’s roof
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Full moon at midnight through bathroom skylight
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Crescent moon and single star above neighbour’s house
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… little star

         

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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– Must speak LIFE.

Proverbs 18: 21 Death and life are in the power of the tongue …

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Daughters’ Christmas present hangs by writing desk.  Speaks loud and clear to Heart.  Heart leaps for joy –

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Merry Christmas Mom (that’s me!)             
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Husband’s wife.  Daughters’ mom.  ME.

– Mustimg_20170116_183143 believe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yes! Just getting started …

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Inspired by Puppy’s determination to keep dreaming, believing –

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“Hey, Grams, wanna share? “
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“… it’s gonna fall!”

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When all else fails …

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Yahoo!  Dishwasher time …

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…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Box of Dreams sits by bedroom door.  Weighs a ton.

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Up to the brim.  Almost twenty years of journals
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Yes, mine.

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Now making entries in journal number thirty six.

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From the wildest dreams of …

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Been scribbling my heart out for years.

A dream catalyses the evolution of Something out of Nothing, sometimes through Unlikely Source.

Like toilet paper wedding gowns …

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Radiant Toilet Paper Brides at Rachel’s bridal shower
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You’ll never know till you try
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Just imagine!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Plan for the rest of 2017:

(1) Quit skulking  in life’s undergrowth   –

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Puppy’s arch-enemy, lying in wait

…  strive for the stars.    

(2) Look at the bigger picture –     

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Sky’s the limit
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Life in miniature.  Husband peeping into giant doll house

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(3)  Build more bridges (not fences) –

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Shut out of paradise.  All fenced out

(4) Think outside the box –

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You betcha!
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Too confined
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Don’t go there! (Puppy and friend)
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Oh, come on out!
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No way!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(5) Break out of the iron bars –

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“Someone lemme out!” (Puppy out of harm’s way during renovations)
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“Come on out. ” (Puppy’s sister, Jesse)
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“Can’t you see the door’s open, silly?”
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Sometimes the keys are in plain sight

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So what keeps holding you back?

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Unlocking door. (Husband after summer concert in the park)

         

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Endless!

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(6) Wear the weight of passing years like a  million dollar diamond tiara –

 With grace and elegance …

 (6) Resurrect dead dreams –        

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Kanatte Cemetary, Colombo, Sri Lanka
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Dying African violet.  Nursed it back to life.
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                                                                               LEAVE OUT.  DON’T PUT  IN GARAGE     (Sign on neighbour’s lawn)

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(7) Pray more –
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Grace before Christmas dinner

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…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

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Puppy’s favourite pausing spot

                                                                                             Dear Me,

                                                                                             The dream finally came true ….                                                                                                                 

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I still write letters

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Who writes letters anymore? (Street corner, Colpetty, Sri Lanka)
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Never believe that

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Philippians 3: 13 But one thing I do, forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead …

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Ahoy there!  All aboard …

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Wellawatte railway station, Colombo, Sri Lanka

Oh baby …

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Puppy and Rithika

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Never too early to start

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Me?  Never!

 

     

 

 

 

 

 

Some day soon.

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Some day …

Thankful for dreams.  A reason to leap out of bed each morning.

Until next time,

sincerely

            

 

 

                                     

If You Could Read My Mind, Love …

Such fond memories of Asterix  comic books.  

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Frolicsome adventures in Roman times.  Fun, puns and ancient history.   Brilliant.  (First publication 1959)

Action-packed illustrations on each page. (Much) Younger Me spends ages poring over each micro-interaction in every frame.

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Have a look at this one below –

Take time, observe … 

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img_7716                             Asterix, the Gaul.   Assorted mirco-moments playing out at  banquet table 

This picture –

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Family-and-friends choir sings at Aunty Joyce-and-Uncle Rajan’s Golden Wedding anniversary party (Summer 2016)

– has that effect.  Urges me back.  Over and over again.  Examine every face, every expression.  Gordon Lightfoot echoes in  head (background music and all!) –

If you could read my mind love, what a tale my thoughts would tell …  

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Gordon Lightfoot (78) , Canadian musician, singer-songwriter

Looking again.  Intently.  Face by face.  Expression by expression.

So what’s going on in the singing heads ?

Ever wondered what it would be like to pitch a tent and spend a day in someone’s mind? 

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Some things are better left unexplored!

 

 

 

 

 

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

What I see when eyes open each morning –

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Faintest crack of light slipping through door

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Light.

Husband’s up.  Light brightens, knifes through shadowed gloom.

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Bathroom light goes on
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Light will find a way

       

                       

 

 

Lurking dark recedes.

Heard someone say this recently:  “When night grows darker, light gets brighter.  It has to .”

Sets me thinking.

Light needs darkness to shine.

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Supermoon night.  Blood moon behind clouds
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Neighbour’s window
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Dawn thro’ bathroom blind 

                       

 

 

 

 

 

 

                     Darkness overthrown, must flee.

                      Power and effect of light … 

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Notice how light plays with cloud, makes gloom slide away?

Spectacular …

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                       Dazzling puddles of sunshine all over house –  

Delighted  by indoor rainbows. Heart-stopping joy-moments  in millisecond doses.

Grab I pad.  Tap, click  …   

    

                

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Through crystal candlesticks.  Marianne smiles.
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Bernadette’s tea towel
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… at the end of the rainbow

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

White light passes through clear glass prism, separates into colours.                                       

Grade 10 physics …

There’s a process to create  glorious dispersion of white light into rainbow colours  –

Parable?  Sort of …    

Realize something  –

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LIGHT is only a prayer away.    

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And then …
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… comes light! (Aunty Bongo’s birthday cake)
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Puppy and Tree Angel

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………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

If you could read my mind, if I could read yours ….

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If you could read my mind, love.  What a tale ….
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Husband browsing in junk store.
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Yikes!

Better left untouched?

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Who knows?
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Perhaps …
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Big time!
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Only a prayer away …
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Excuses?

         

      

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Whenever you’re ready …

 

 

 

Let light shine. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

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……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 Celebrating joy this Christmas season –

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Inside view of backyard
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Outside view from kitchen

May JOY be your gift.

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                                                                                        Puppy believes.  “Hey, Santa?”
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Never in our house!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thankful for daily joy.  Priceless.

Until next time,               img_20161117_190138

sincerely

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Puppy with Mall Santa

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The pictures in this post are moments captured on Ipad and phone.

Support a local author. Like this page on Facebook, share and follow.  Thank you for dropping in.

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They Called Her Mrs B

So Mrs Clinton doesn’t make it.

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All trumped up.  (A photo-shopped Donald?)
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          Hilary Clinton (Pants Suit Lady)                    
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A woman in the White House – ah when, oh, when?

American dreams of woman shattering glass ceiling are … shattered.  

 

 

 

 

 

Glass ceiling on international stage is shattered in 1960 when simple housewife steps into defunct husband’s shoes, becomes world’s first woman premier –

Old enough to remember?

Sirimavo Bandaranaike,  Madam Prime Minister of Ceylon (now Sri Lanka), island home of world’s best tea  …

They called her Mrs B.

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                         Sirimavo Bandaranaike with Soviet Union Prime Minister Alexei Kosygin

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Way to go,  little Boy Scout! (Husband receives award from Mrs B at school prize giving)

Perplexing time in history of the  US of A. 

Glad to be Canadian  

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Begins with you and me … little drops of water, little grains of sand.
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The new reality.  Must it be this way?

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

House renovations are finally done.  Just in time for house guests –

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My snoozing spots are gone, Mama! 
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   Relieved Puppy.  Hip hip hurrah!

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“If you love me, let me be … ” (Puppy and weekend Guest-let)
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Three hearty cheers. No place like home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Arduous weeks prior –

Never again …

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Scrubber, that’s me!  Couldn’t wait to get mop and pail out … 
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Scary without railings, Mama!
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Much better, but slippery now. Carry me up, please …

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Next job: Duct cleaning –

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Quick phone call 
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 Connected up

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stuff comes rumbling through vents into humongous tube.

Me to Duct Guy:  “Unearthed anything interesting over the years?”

Duct Guy:  “A Penthouse magazine once, dead ferret,  mouldy submarine sandwich.” 

Macabre Me: “Never any human body parts?”

Duct Guy (chuckling): “No!”

Boring …

Unseen toxic stuff all gone.   Household breathes so much easier.  

Literally …

Almost as wide as me. Gigantic tubing.

Feels like a parable –

Just because I can’t see what’s inside, doesn’t mean it’s not there and affecting who I am, how I function … 

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Sobering food for thought

 Do I need emotional housecleaning? Any residual gunk and uglies clogging me up?

Hmm …  

…………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Supermoon last week.  Crazy camera lady checks out rise/set times,  goes moon chasing.  Runs, walks.  Chilly, hungry, determined. 

Won’t to go home without pictures.  Thankful for unseasonably mild weather …

 Sun sets.  Ginormous blood-red orange slips into view above trees.  Bright as sun. 

Gasp!

Ipad and phone won’t do justice to immensity, colour and breathtaking grandeur. 

Pictures don’t record as eye sees. So disappointed.

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Reddish setting moon.  (In the park just before dawn)

 ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 Summer-like weather most of last week.   Snap pictures of burning, brilliant gardens.

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Ankle-deep 

Neighbours’ leaves all raked, ready for pick up –

Mostly naked trees –

Some still stubbornly clothed –

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Squirrel-y busy-ness –

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In Wai Ling’s front yard

Half chewed apples all over Garden, stalwart summer blooms clinging on for dear life –

Delighted to find last, late (scrawny) strawberry –

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                                                    “Goodbye, my darling.  See you next spring!”

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Seen him a couple of times –

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View from rear.  Glazed eyes.  Unshaven, unwashed.

Looks scruffy and lost. 

Homeless man?                   img_20161121_141352

Wish I could pluck up courage to say hello. 

Fear of rejection …

On my to do list: Talk to him.

 ………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Found this on fly leaf of an old book of Mum’s  –

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Mum’s handwriting.  Miss her gentle wisdom.

Material things were never a big deal with her –

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She said this a lot

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

This week’s assignment –

Deal with useless emotional junk.

May take some work …

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Open the doors.  Let it go.
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Mum once told me, “To have hurt feelings is pride.”

 

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… just a willing heart

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………………………………………………………………………………………………

Weather’s changed dramatically.

Trying ignore perpetually chilly toes.

At least I have toes  …

Thankful for toes!

Until next time,

sincerely

PS:  The photos in this post are moments captured on my Ipad and phone.  

Please support a local author – like this page on Facebook and follow.  Thanks for dropping in.

Matchmaker, Matchmaker

“So Grampi, was it love at first sight when you saw her?”

Daughter’s eyes widen, jaw drops when Maternal Grandpa lets out belly laugh.

Hahahahaha …..

 Her romantic notions of darling-sweep-me-off-my-feet-I’m-yours-forever are shattered.

Sister and I glean bits and pieces over the years.

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Sister and me

Dad’s story –

“I came home from work one evening, and Mother told me I was fixed up.

No further discussion …

(Rumour has it that Paternal Grandma in her heyday was a tough bird.)

Fixed up is a direct translation from the vernacular.  There’s a sense of no-way-out about it. 

Matchmakers are Aunty Ruby’s in-laws.

Dad, up-and-coming young banker, is desperate to see what the girl looks like before formal introduction when he and parents visit her home.   Enlists help of Friend Gunam. Friend and he ride Dad’s scooter up and down Mum’s lane.  Young Lady finally makes an appearance on front porch.

Dad and Friend ride away.  Dad is glum.

Friend Gunam’s version:  “He was speechless.  He fell instantly in love.”

Dad’s version:  “I didn’t know what to say.  She looked like nothing on earth!”

Ouch …

Enormous relief to meet the girl a few days later.  Accomplished.  Demure.  Long dark hair.  Pleasant to behold.

Phew …

Turns out young lady on front porch was Neighbour’s Daughter!

Wrong address!

True story – honest – straight from the horse’s mouth.

Mum’s Story –

Me:  “Mum, so what did you think when you saw him?”

Mum:  “He was so handsome, darling.  My heart skipped a beat!”

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Stars in Mum’s eyes!
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Only after  formal engagement and a ring on her finger
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He’s the man!

                         

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The date is fixed.  Here comes the bride …

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All the world and his wife were invited
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Beatrice.  Blushing bride

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Till death do us part

   

 

 

 

 

Uncle Gunam – comrade, confidante, fellow sleuth – is   Bestman.

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Man and wife.  Confetti, flower garlands and smiles.  Dad and Mum on church steps

Fast forward fifty years.   Golden Wedding Anniversary  celebrations.  

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Diamond ring.  Dad and Mum renewing marriage vows at  altar.  
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Order of Service.  Reception dinner and dancing after.

 

 

They  all said it – grannies and great aunts, aunties and elderly widows:

“Love comes after marriage, that’s how it happens.”

Stable, enduring.

Me to Daughters:  “Safer, more trustworthy than E-Harmony dot com, right?”

Daughters shrug and roll their eyes. 

Whatever …

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Love comes after marriage …

So that’s why Grampi laughed out loud.

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Youthful genes and blue jeans.  Grampi with Granddaughters (too long ago)
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Aging nicely.  Grampi and Peter (Sister’s son)

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Little voice from past echoes in my ear.  “Fall is an untidy season, Mommy …”

Second small voice chimes out in agreement.

Aptly put.

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Amazing how Memory Bank unlocks to release unexpected cameo moments. 

Daughters are all grown up now. 

I remember all over again what a pretty season this is.  

Neighbourhood trees are on fire –

Backyard fence is burning up –

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View from upstairs window
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View from kitchen 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Summer’s done.  Falling  in love with fall – all over again.

 

Blazing autumn promenades –  

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Husband and Puppy
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Puppy sniffs neighbour’s pumpkins on garbage day.  (No Hallowe’en celebrations at our house.)
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Eek!

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Tiny joy-moments to take one’s breath away …

(1) Pause to observe a single coloured leaf –

(2) Apple-strewn sidewalk –

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  • (3) Smudge of rainbow in grey sky –                         

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    Gasp of delight, unexpected sight
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    Hello brave rose!

     

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(4) Last lonely rose clinging to neighbour’s fence.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Thought of Mum when I took these pictures –

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Landscape-in-a-window
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Living room reflected in old mirror

She used to say, “Eyes are the mirror of the soul.” 

Mum’s heart was reflected in her eyes.  Childlike, guile-less.  She drew people to her like a magnet.

Me: “Mum, has it ever bothered you that Dad is so … er  … striking?  Have you ever wished you were … maybe … prettier?”

Mum (puzzled):  “No. Why? Never!”

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Debonair Dad.  Twenty-something bachelor.
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Play on words.  Dad’s name is  Prins.

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They called him Omar Sharif in his day.    

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People leave footprints on our lives.  Mum left indelible prints on mine.

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That’s Mum
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By the lake last summer

Thankful for those who’ve touched my life, influenced my thinking. Thankful for Mum. 

Miss you, Mum.  Miss your loving letters …

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Saved every letter Mum ever wrote to me (until she discovered email)

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Chilly morning today.  Found bird’s nest under tree –

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Straw and clay – avian masterpiece

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In church last Sunday

 

 

 

 

I’ll continue to  cling to thankful.  If it’s all that remains, it’s enough.  

Until next time,

sincerely

PS: All the pictures in this post are moments captured on my IPad and phone. 

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If you enjoyed the post, please like this page, follow and share. Thank you.  xxx

Meet Maria

 House is undergoing renovations. 

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Puppy, a nervous wreck. (“Help! Where’s my spot?”)
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Sleep tight, Claire! Overnight guest beds down with paint pots by front door

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Clouds of dust, pails of paint –

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Inside the coat closet

I gasp, run for IPad.  Just remembered something …

Tap. Click.  Got it!

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Take a look at this …

… something Daughter said eight years ago.

Flashback to …

Several dark months when light in home is dimmed while Mother (me) undergoes treatment for late-detected breast cancer. Pretty much confined to bed.  A simple journey to the bathroom and back is long, exhausting.  Endless pilgrimages to hospital and clinics.  Can’t do much else besides.   Completely sapped of strength.

One day Daughter says –

“I guess God allows the pit to get so deep, so we can see how high his ladder can go …”

Bingo!

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How high can it go?
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Not high enough.  

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Grammatically incorrect t-shirt!

Words to heal or kill- power of tongue to build up or destroy …

 

 

Perspective alters instantly.  Pit is deep, very deep – yes – but ladder goes high, so high.  Begin to count blessings.  Endless list.  

People who love and care –  

  • Husband, Daughters, Family, Friends, Church (Kitchen lies idle. Meals come in unsolicited for seven months straight.
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Puppy, constant companion.  If eyes could heal ..
  • Maureen, who accompanies me to chemo sessions, sees me safely into house, remains awhile in driveway crying for me before driving away. 
  • Brother-In-Law, Jonathan, who spends 4 hours a day for a week, driving me to radiation through freezing rain and snow storms, so exhausted husband can have a break..
  • Puppy’s unwavering eyes on me. Doesn’t move from my bedside. (Never wanted a dog.  Can’t do without him now)   
  • Top notch medical care. Stellar surgeon and oncologist.
  • Knowing that everything happens for a reason.
  • Prayer.  Someone IS listening.

Etc. Etc. Etc.

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Husband wakes up each morning and says, “Good morning gorgeous!”

I cry the first time I hear him.  I’m grey,   bloated,  bald as an egg.  

He isn’t joking.

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He’s my man

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Meet Maria –

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I see Maria one morning at the chemo ward.   A pretty woman.  She begins to cry when the needle is inserted into her vein.  My heart aches.  In two weeks she’ll be as bald and as I am, with black nails and all the awful trimmings.  I don’t want her to suffer as I have. 

I place a hand on Maria’s and murmur, “You’ll be all right.”

She says, “How do you do it?”    img_20150801_202032

“You wake up each morning and ask for strength for the day.  At night say ‘thank you’ for the grace that took you through. Live one day at a time.  Don’t think about tomorrow.  It’s too frightening.”

We meet every three weeks at the hospital, talk on the phone.  Dark moments.  Shared strength.

Maria makes it.  So do I.  Sisters. There’s something about shared suffering.  Eight cancer-free years for us both this year.  Oncologist tells me I’m one of her success stories.

How high the ladder goes …

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Celebration time.  Hyrrah for Maria!         

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_20150710_103346                                                   Pink ribbons for breast cancer awareness

 Detest the wig.  Makes me itch, gets into eyes –

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Unloved.  Hardly used the wig.

Husband wears it to sixties hippy-themed costume birthday party some weeks back!

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Happy Hippy Husband.  Despised wig finally comes in useful!

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That’s my man!

 

 

 

 

Won’t ever forget that moment when head feels scratchy. Realize hair’s growing back.

What a feeling …

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Gorgeous full moon last week.  

Playing hide-and-seek over neighbour’s roof …

Roses still blooming in Garden –

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                                                                                              Standing tall.  Me in a puddle of sunshine.

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Hope is a precious thing.  Joy is priceless.  

Until next time,

sincerely

PS: The pictures in this post are all clicks from my IPad and phone.  Please share your thoughts and leave a comment.  Thank you for dropping in. 

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A dog’s life. Puppy sleeps in. 

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