Feeling the burn

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candles

Candles burn, hearts yearn,

Wine fills up the glass.

Eyes glance, loves’ chance,

Time to make the pass.

Hand touches, blood rushes,

Hearts pick up the pace.

Distance lessens, romance beckons,

They linger face to face.

Lips meet, taste is sweet,

Blush is in her cheeks.

Hot breath, sweet caress,

The feeling that she seeks.

Touch sparks, bodies arc,

Passion is in the air.

Energy builds, needs filled,

Souls are laid to bare.

Solved puzzle, bodies nuzzle,

Two seem to become one.

Bodies spent, minds content,

her sky has found its sun.

(image credit)

I don’t have a can of spinach but I yam what I yam

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I am

I loved the book “The Help” and was equally impressed by how its story was portrayed on the big screen.  And through all the ups and downs of the characters and plot lines, there is one moment that is the stand-out scene for me.  After being spanked by her mother for doing something she mistakenly did for the right reason but in the wrong place, a little girl is then comforted by her nanny.  That nanny’s words to a precious young child still ring in my ears and have done so since the first time I saw the film – “Remember, you is kind, you is smart and you is important”.

When I saw the above picture, I immediately thought of that string of words spoken so beautifully to a child in need of a kind word.  I wondered how many of us would be able to say the same sentence to ourselves but replace ‘you is’ by ‘I am’.  And if we did say it out loud, would we really believe what we are saying?

I am kind.  I am smart.  I am important.  Those are powerful words and they should be allowed to shape my reality.  I have always believed I am kind, but the old me would have had a very tough time agreeing that I was smart and that I was important.  The inability for me to be able to put that “I am” before a number of adjectives truly did shape my young reality.

But thankfully the paradigm of my reality shifted and I found a new confidence to believe those words.  I am kind.  I am smart.  I am important.  I am many other things that I have found the freedom to believe about myself without letting outside influences impact the reflection I see in the mirror.

Be a powerful voice for yourself.  Be willing to admit your strengths and embrace them.  Be proud of those things that make you who you are.  I yam.

Finding comfort in the symphony of silence

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points of light

The opulent points of light burn me.

I turn, longing to be swallowed by the shadow,

escaping the realities of my world for just one day.

I yearn for the silence to deafen me,

to make the raucous cacophony of sound abate.

 I let the gentle vibration of my dog’s breathing

wrap me in the comfort of its vague timbre,

knowing that she is my asylum.

The rain falls gently on the tin outside my window.

Its staccato beat lures me into its embrace

and I yield to the power of its trance.

I am powerless to its rhythm.

But the silence beckons

and the sound of the rain fades.

It is only in the silence

that my truths speak the loudest.

Only then can I hear

what my heart is yearning to tell me.

And with no light to distract me,

I have no choice but to listen.

(image credit)

Oh, the things you’ll see

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cloud porn

cloud porn3

Hours after a summer rain,

the skies are host to what I like to refer to as “cloud porn”.

It is my guilty pleasure to watch the shapes change,

to watch what or whom the sky would like to reveal.

I didn’t see the face with the big sunglasses,

smiling from the sky,

until I added the picture below.

cloud1

 

 

It’s not narcissism if someone else writes it

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He wandered in from the past like a daydream.

The words in his email hung in my reality like a cartoon balloon.

I had spent months trying to track him down,

hunting him like he was an endangered species,

 trying to bring him back into the safety of our tribe.

But he was in the wind.

He left no scent of his trail and he had found refuge in his own world.

 After leaving the chase behind,

we became the hunted and he, in turn, became the hunter.

There is a muted sound that is made

when two worlds collide.

It is the sound of making right what was wrong,

of discovering things you hadn’t realized were lost,

of filling a space you had forgotten was empty.

 And even after all the time that has elapsed,

some days it feels like he never even left.

He is that consummate friend you know will always be there,

even if it is twenty-five years later.

He is the man who any mother would be proud of,

(and other mothers would have a crush on).

He is a man I am honored to call my friend.

It is not often you can find another heart on a sleeve

that recognizes that placement as a strength and not a weakness.

He is a kindred spirit, a confidant,

and he is a friend I will not let disappear again.

When a Bubble Guppy goes from a mystery to a memory

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Life is a perplexing thing.   There is no rhyme nor reason to the circumstances of our daily existence.  If there were a giant book of instructions and an elongated list of logic explaining the happenings in our lives it would be in a language nobody could decipher.

We are not meant to know the meaning of things that occur while they are happening.  We are merely challenged to learn from the events we encounter and use that knowledge to enhance our future.  I found myself in the middle of one of those moments last week.

They were a lovely family, originally booked to visit the lodge in July but had to postpone due to a medical diagnosis that required immediate action.  Even after rescheduling their vacation, a last-minute trial became available to help battle her recent diagnosis of Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.  Two trips to St. Margaret’s Hospital during their four-day “vacation” were made much more bearable by their one “magical” day at Shamrock Lodge.  I was extremely fortunate to be a part of that magic by being asked to make a “Bubble Guppy” cake for her daughter’s 2nd birthday.

I had no idea what a Bubble Guppy was but my longing to make this vacation memorable was overshadowed by my ignorance and this is the cake that arrived at their table and made three generations of their family smile….especially the two older generations.

IMG_2088[1]

I will forever remember driving home that afternoon to finish the cake for an early celebration because her treatment came first.  I will always cherish the look on her two-year old’s face when she realized this cake was for her and it was a Bubble Guppy cake.  And the moment that I will hold closest to my heart is being a part of a celebration that may not happen again if the medical trial fails.

Life is a perplexing thing.  But watching a family hold each other close and truly celebrate together helped me slightly dispel the mystery.

Life is about commemorating the moments we are able to celebrate.  Life is not about worrying about what comes next or what we may miss.  Life is about making the most of the time we have together and living in the now.  Life is about having a Bubble Guppy cake and being able to share it with the family at your table, not ever considering they may not be there for the next birthday celebration. And life is just about being with those who you hold closest to your heart for as long as you can.

If I have learned anything this past week, I have learned that life is too short to spend on things that are not number one on your list.  If there is something you want, chase it.  If there is something you yearn for, pursue it.  And if there are people in your life that make your days brighter, do everything in your power to make the sun shine on them for as long as you can.

You never know when that Bubble Guppy will revert from a cherished memory to simply a mystery.

 

 

A post about the a-hole at the liquor store

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For those who follow my blog or know me personally, you know I live in a small town.  Our liquor store is an over-sized log cabin that can be accessed by land or by water.  Because we host a large percentage of the city’s population in the summer, our LCBO is a bustling metropolis at the slowest of times.  Cars line the two-lane black top to be able to pull off the road into the parking lot for their chance at a desired parking spot.  For those unlucky enough to be a few minutes too late, we wait in line for the next available spot.

Today I was first in that wait line.  I pulled into the lot, waited patiently on the side of the entrance, and watched a few happy customers as they left the store with their familiar brown bags.  As I was looking at their contented faces heading towards their BMW’s and Lexi (Muskoka plural for Lexus’), a beat up pick up truck, paying no heed to the rule of the line-up, ignored me patiently waiting for a spot as if I were invisible, passed my on my driver’s side and decided to create its own “parking spot”, conveniently blocking a total of four vehicles from exiting their soon-to-be-vacant actual parking spots.

parking asshole

 

The driver of the truck got out, acknowledged my car waiting to park, also acknowledged the woman in the Lexus trying to exit her space, shrugged and made his way into the store.  I’ve seen my share of selfish moves since Toronto moved North for the summer but this one truly angered me.  This guy saw me waiting for a spot, saw the Lexus driver (and, potentially, two other cars) waiting to exit and blatantly sauntered across the macadam into the store as if the rest of the world did not even exist.  I was speechless, apart from a few well-placed expletives.

I am a patient person.  If you are in a rush, I am the first to let you go ahead of me to help you in your quest.  But if your quest is to be the most arrogant and uncaring person in town, count me out.   I only wish I had the foresight to take down  your license plate number so I could rat you out in a more personal way.