Wilderness Wednesday: Walk in the Park

I stole 20 minutes last Friday before I had to pick Little Guy up from camp…but it was hot! I really wanted a photo of the “avenue” in the park – it was so pretty in the morning light. But by the afternoon, the “avenue” was full of town trucks, filling up at the watering station, guys visiting with one another in the final moments of their week. I went for a walk anyway, but just like me, the few flowers that were out, were wilting.

I wonder if the models at the photo shoot I passed, were wilting too?

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“The most important thing is to try and enjoy life because you never know when it will be gone. If you wake up in the morning and have a choice between doing the laundry and taking a walk in the park, go for the walk. You’d hate to die and realize you had spent your last day doing the laundry.” – Joyce Tenneson

Happy Wednesday!

10 Minute Monday:

August 12th was the second hottest day of the year, the 30th day of over 30 C weather. It was, in fact, 33 but with humidity, felt more like 43.

I escaped my “cubicle of purgatory” to help bridesmaids deliver flowers and snip loose threads off their pink dresses. I also helped do a sound check for a cellist and soloist since the A/V tech was a titch tardy. All in a sanctuary where the main air conditioner is broken…

And while it was warm in the sanctuary, it was downright tropical in the custodian’s closet, where I partnered with a pretty, size 2 blonde, to repair a plant stand for a bouquet of wilting champagne roses. If she hadn’t been size 2, we wouldn’t have been able to fit in there at the same time.

We needed a Robertson screwdriver, but could only find a common blade screwdriver. It was only after we were soaked in our sweat and nearly passing out from heat exhaustion, that the custodian showed up. He was surprised to see two damsels in distress in his closet, but he did nonchalantly point out the black toolbox we had completely missed, before shrugging his shoulders…and leaving.

We removed the offending screws and added 2 small nails, but it was not enough to fix the tremulous platform, so we put a nail in its coffin. It took a couple of tries – the first nail, while long and inviting, refused to budge at the halfway point. But we persevered and the bride’s flowers were delightfully displayed before the wedding march.

I spent the rest of the day fighting off bridesmaids for space in front of office air-conditioner.

After the wedding, the one who fixed the table with me, thanked me for my help and added: “when I came to you with my request for a hammer and screwdriver, I expected you be like ‘what?’. I can’t believe how you just smiled and asked me, ‘what kind do you need?’ like I wasn’t an insane person”.

She doesn’t know this was a pleasure compared to Bridezilla. She also didn’t know that already that week I had climbed under a rock, hid under a desk, and ate my lunch in the corner. Just another day in Paradise!

Only one week to go before I go on holidays for a week. And then…

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Happy Monday!


This has been a “10 Minute Monday” post (where I write about whatever I want for a minimum 10 minutes, no editing – mayhem, memories, maudlin mumblings, or  “mwa ha ha” moments).



Wilderness Wednesday: Country

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“My grandfather used to say that once in your life you need a doctor, a lawyer, a policeman and a preacher, but every day, three times a day, you need a farmer.” – Brenda Schoepp

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“It is the simple things in life that make living wortwhile, the sweet fundamental things such as love and duty, work and rest, living close to nature.” – Laura Ingalls Wilder

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“Well I wouldn’t trade my life for diamonds and jewels
I never was one of them money hungry fools
I’d rather have my fiddle and my farmin’ tools
Thank God I’m a country boy.” – John Denver


10 Minute Monday: That’s Amore

Recently, a blogger friend celebrated 8 years of marital bliss. He shared how they met and how “crazy in love” he still is about her. After a miserable first marriage and a lot of sucky stuff, I’m happy that he has someone (and something) to celebrate: Love.

Hubby and I celebrated 20 years of marriage in June and we had talked about going to Italy (so we could put our hours of learning vocab. and conjugating verbs in Italian to the real test)…but finances and timing got in the way. Then the world started going crazy over there: a lack of love.

Instead, Hubby surprised me with 20 long stemmed red roses, and immediately made me pose with them so we could post the picture on FB. I doubt he was looking for a gold-star from our handful of friends; perhaps he wanted to show off his prettiest “Rose”? I kinda love that guy – he makes me laugh.

Those roses were very much like the ones I carried on our wedding day, very much like those carried by the grandmother I also said good-bye to in June. I would have worn her dress or her veil too, but they were lost in a fire at her parents’ just after they married. Thankful they only lost things. In 63 years, they never lost their love for each other.


My grandfather wanted the title, “Oldest Married Couple” at the Fair but was too shy to speak up. I’m so thankful I did. Grandpa wasn’t with us the next summer. He was so proud of that certificate!

We knew he would have to die before her. He adored his bride. I remember watching him watching her in their later years. She was singing in the church choir on an ordinary Sunday morning, his face positively beaming. He only had eyes for her. Without her, he would have curled his 6’ frame into a ball and died of a broken heart.

Coming home last weekend, I popped in a cd I haven’t listened to in awhile. And when one song started to play, I remembered…

“…went to bed I was thinking about you, I wanna talk and laugh like we used to. When I see you in my dreams at night, it’s so real but it’s in my mind…”

I had been listening to that same song in the car just after he died. It had been at the beginning of a long weekend and some family had gathered to hold vigil with Grandma until we could have the service, our final tribute.

Grandma seemed to sleep a lot that weekend – physically and emotionally exhausted after weeks of sitting in the hospital, confident he would get better and return to her.

Don’t wake me ’cause I don’t wanna leave this dream
Don’t wake me ’cause I never seem to stay asleep enough
When it’s you I’m dreaming of, I don’t wanna wake up

She kissed him at the funeral home. She kissed him over and over. Held his hands. Whispered in his ear and smiled. Love.

* * *

My red roses only lasted a few days, wilting in the heat. I did my best to keep them going – fresh water, trimmed stems, a little sugar. As beautiful as they were, it was what they represent that’s worth my time and attention.

Love goes deeper than roses on special occasions or tributes on a blog. It is more than the kind heralded in bad country songs or smeared across the tabloids. It is more vast than a skywriter’s “paper” and deeper than the blue in Matthew McConaughey’s eyes. It endures through the sucky stuff and looks to give the best to the other (even when you’re not too sure about the other).  It is  worth guarding, tending, and celebrating…every day…over a lifetime.

Even on an ordinary Monday morning…

That’s amore.

Ti Amo Hubby! xoxo
**quotes are from Don’t Wake Me by Skillet, Awake Album

This has been a “10 Minute Monday” post (where I write about whatever I want for a minimum 10 minutes, no editing – mayhem, memories, maudlin mumblings, or  “mwa ha ha” moments).



Trapped: A Vignette

Every precious memory in your lifetime either begins with a smile, hug, tears, or heartfelt laughter.” ~Alvaretta Roberts

A vignette is a brief account, description or episode. Often, the events of the day can be viewed as a series of vignettes, rather than one long story.

* * *

A couple of weeks ago, I was so tired by bedtime, that I started snickering in ad for t.v. show and couldn’t stop. My face turned red, tears streaming down it and I simply couldn’t catch my breath. My sides started to hurt. Hubby, being a compassionate guy, helped by adding his impression of his lovely mother giggling, which only intensified the attack.  Eventually I regained control ( thankfully before a bladder failure- the thing your mother didn’t tell you about natural childbirth), but it was short-lived.

At bedtime, I got stuck in my own clothing…

It happens from time to time, usually in a store dressing room when I’m deceiving myself into a size too small…or that one time while modelling my bodacious bargain…only this time the item that was stuck was my everyday, wear-it-all-the-time bra. I was taking it off under my tee shirt – I do it all the time! I unhooked the back & slid the straps over shoulders, down my arms, and off and over my wrists. All I had to do was pull the whole thing out the bottom of my shirt…but my bra continued to just hang there. I kept pulling; it just kept springing back. I felt like I was Wile E. Coyote trapped in a coil.

I started to panic…hubby started to laugh. And laugh.

And laugh.

I caught our reflection in the mirror and had a flash-forward  to our “golden” years together…

Tears started to well in my eyes again.

Turns out out the hook had caught the fabric under arm just out of my reach. Hubby had to “rescue” me. I have been wearing a bra since Grade 5 so you’d think I could work it by now…

Trapped in bra

Happy Weekend!

Wilderness Wednesday: Upper Falls

This power station was originally built in 1892, on the upper falls of this river by an entrepreneur. Not only did this station provide power for the entrepreneur’s leather tannery and part of the town, it also served as a pump plant for the town’s water supply.

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“Have you also learned that secret from the river; that there is no such thing as time?” That the river is everywhere at the same time, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the current, in the ocean and in the mountains, everywhere and that the present only exists for it, not the shadow of the past nor the shadow of the future.” – Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

Happy Wednesday!