summoning reverie ~ troibun Daily Moments Dec 1, 2018



message 
in my dream 
alerting me 
 
message 
urgency 
life and death 

in my dream 
you slept next to me 
then awakened me 
 
alerting me 
over and over again 
then I knew 
 

November 30th, 2014 I dreamed the same dream three times.  It was scary but you were there with me in my bed, trying to save a child from death.  

I forced myself awake for it scared me so…then slipped back into slumber and the same scene appeared two more times. And so, at four in the morning, on December 1st, I waited until dawn to call the nursing home.  I knew there had to be something wrong…no one had warned me. Not one relative had called me but I knew because you came to me and I knew you wanted me by your side. 

The nurse at the nursing home said softly “Come quick, she does not have much longer.”  The taxi took so long to get there or maybe I just wished he could have gone over the speed limit.  But an hour later, I was by your side all day and  all night until passed midnight…you raised your head slightly and turned towards me, taking your last breath.  


Blessed I am 
you could not speak 
you found a way 
 
blessed I am 
to be  
by your side 
 
you could not speak 
but acted out your plea 
in my sleep 
 
you found a way 
with the grace of God 
to summon me.   
 
© Tournesol ‘18-12-01 

Daily Moments December 1 2018  Summoning reveries   Troibun

another grey day ~ morning reflections ~ troibun

Each week is a mystery nowadays. No, actually each day is a surprise with the weather.  Last week she surrendered to her warm down filled coat and even wore her ski mask walking home! And this week the rain washed all the snow away and little bits of ice hang on for dear life (or to scare the life out of some poor clumsy person like her!)   

The first days of warmer weather were welcomed for sure but now, it is with mixed feelings. She  looks out the window with total apathy. “What again! more grey skies?!”  She shuffles back to the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee.  “Not enough coffee” she sighs like a martyr and takes out the espresso beans and grinds enough for her pot and a little bit more so she does not come up empty handed if she wants a cuppa later in the day. 

Her cats are sitting on the carpet looking at her expectantly. The black kitten, Kali,  wants to play but would be just as content to cuddle. She will soon be a year old in two weeks.  Bette, on the other hand, looks up at her with her dreamy emerald eyes and barely utters a”meow”. When she gets her mistress’ attention, she forces out a few more sounds pleading for food. Not a surprise to see that from this voluptuous Siberian cat  who loves to eat. 

While the coffee is brewing, Emma decides to make her bff’s (best feline friends) work a little for their food like true feline hunters.  She takes out her fishing-pole wand with long feathers attached.  Bette is really into the game and shows off to her competitor by jumping up and falling on her back ready to eat that silly bird like prey.  Kali runs back and forth, so innocent and clueless but succeeds to catch her prey a few times too. 

Treats are out and food for the beasts and now the mistress sits by the window sipping her cup of java with a sense of dread.  It is her day off and she had plans to get things done and purchase those Nordic Walking Poles today.  Looking at the jam packed parking lot of the mall across the street discourages her to even step out of her comfy chair. 

Her head is heavy with a million tiny hammers knocking simultaneously and she hopes the caffeine may help a little.  It is challenging to be cheerful looking out at so much grey today.  


lingering grey
mockingly hover  
deserted grounds 
 
lingering grey 
mud, clay, sand 
turn to dust 
 
mockingly hover 
abandoned gravesides 
mourning our loss 
 
deserted grounds 
footsteps on rich soil 
whispering adieu 
 
© Tournesol ‘ 18 – 11 – 30 
 
Morning reflections – another grey day 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
     
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 




dust to dust (daily moments)

Bette sitting to my left waiting to be petted

Dust to dust… 

The other day there was a cute joke on Facebook saying that maybe it would be best to NOT worry about dusting so much because it is possible the dust on your furniture is actually “someone” who has turned to dust. 

It was a cute post and many got a lot of laughs about it including reflections on worrying too much about dusting our homes. It will always come back!! Oh, and that we know, right?  Unless you are allergic to dust, why must your furniture be dust free every day?  Hmmm? 

This morning as I sit in my comfy chair with a bench on my left for Bette, my siberian friend and a bedding placed on my right on a shelf of my bookcase, I sip my coffee and look around at my living room. The table near the patio is dusty. Oh my, I had not noticed the bottom shelf there too!  It sure does not show at night.  Thank goodness I work late and when I come home at midnight, my home is dust free everywhere…well, I cannot see it, so I’m fine with that. 

But coming back to the dust on the  table…particularly the black shelf, I wonder if there is a possibility that someone could be there.  What if Mom was sprinkled a bit there?  What if my father sprinkled a bit of dust around the pipe rack. It was his, after all!  Wouldn’t that be comforting that your loved ones left a part of themselves here and there?  And yet…no need to have physical proof of their presence because I have always felt my departed family since I was a child. I am so glad my mother told me that my loved ones turned to angels and were with us always.  I am glad that I modified that story over time and sometimes they are angels watching out for me when I cross the street, making sure the bus waits for me and help me write down the correct answers on tests…oh boy, did GrandPapa ever help me with those tests! 

I have since thought about Karma.  I used to wonder how can there be enough room in heaven if all the souls went to heaven, purgatory or hell?  I mean, let get real here!! That is a lot of people for all those years.  So then I thought that it made more sense that the souls were recycled and came back into new babies’ and started all over again. That made sense because, well, have you ever met someone and within a few moments you felt like you knew them all your life?  That must have been a recycled soul, right?  And then I thought about Karma and it all makes sense! 

My new black cat that looks like a Bombay cat, I named, Kali, after the Hindu goddess, she seems to have connected with me from day one!  She jumps onto my chest and then spreads her body lenghwise on me, purring like a humming machine and surrendering herself to me like she trusts me with her life. Gosh, I love this one as much as my Bette…two different personalities and two beautiful souls that warm my heart. 

I have better time to spend today than dust that table. I want to buy 4 birthday cards for my colleagues who are born in December. I do enjoy being the birthday card lady at work.  We all have some task to contribute but this one is like choosing a special Happy Birthday for each person I work with during the day, evening and for those working night that I may not see often, well then, all  the more importance to that card, right? 

Making choices is so important. Will you go for a healthy walk during daylight since our days are so short now or will you dust that dresser or table?  Will you go play with your young child in the snow or must you really finish washing that floor?  Ah go for it, go for that cuppa with a friend…you will not realize how much this makes your friend happy and how it uplifts your spirit too. 

And if it is just to get out, well now, bring your tablet or lapttop to a coffee shop and people watch a few moments. You will be surprised how your muse will tickle your fancy and you will be writing again. 

dust to dust 
is that you, Mama? 
always present 
 
dust to dust 
living in the here  
even now 
 
is that you, Mama? 
Have I told you  
how much I love you? 
 
always present, 
she whispers to her 
in her heart

© Tournesol ‘18-11-28 

Kali to my right reading my narrative …or not 🙂

holiday shopping (troibun)

 

This time of year it is such a chore walking into a mall. Living across the street from a fairly popular one, I dread going to exchange a coat I purchased. I know I will be told to go to this counter, then that counter and then finally to wait in a long line of Christmas shoppers with an awkward sized box making it more and more tempting to wrap the damn box and mail it back to The Bay. And THAT is why I prefer on-line shopping.

But I want my credit right away so I am hoping it will all work out in a timely manner, so I can return home to the calmness of life with two cats looking comfortably at the snow from my comfy couch.

holiday shoppers

pushing and shoving

a whole different breed

holiday shoppers

stop right in your path

texting on the go

pushing and shoving

and that is why God created

CANES!

a whole different breed

grabby, snippy and pushy

checkin’ their lists

© tournesol’18–11-27

Slippery slopes (troibun)

The weather changed dramatically last week.  My goodness, it’s still autumn!!  Temperatures dipped into a frigid minus 15C with wind chills making it feel more like -30C.  Really! Many people disagree with this “wind chill factor”.  Usually  they are persons who usually drive to work and do not have to walk where pockets of nothingness give rise to violent gusts` of bitter cold in your face.  

I have seen snow in October and November many times before,  but I am not sure if I ever had the need to wear a ski mask to protect my face from the cold whipping against my forehead and cheeks…ouch!  It literally felt like an ice cream headache (brain freeze).  

By the weekend, temperatures rose and patches of ice appeared on the sidewalks requiring cleats on your boots [for the old and clumsy like myself]. However, when I was younger I could keep my balance fairly well  on icy patches, shuffling along those tricky areas.  Ah, but with age comes difficulty to keep one’s balance sometimes.  In my case, too many times where I fall flat on my cushion [thank goodness I have a good protective cushion!].  I carry my cleats in my backpack in case temperatures change when I finish my shift between ten and eleven at night as well.  It is a good habit to have for those who want to get to destination safely.

By Sunday morning it was pouring like cats and dogs but the temperatures had not risen enough to make it safe to walk or ride one’s bike anywhere.  Some ice patches were soft and your weight could crush it but others were still holding on to hard icy spots that could make a person slip, slide and crash.  

So I shuffled tentatively along the sidewalks to the bus terminal jabbing my cane on steady ground for stability; I was wearing my long hooded raincoat, and rubber boots and gritted my teeth and swore in “bon Québécois” along the way.  

By the end of the day, rain turned into a swirling mist that may help to maintain the elasticity of one’s complexion but only made my mascara streak my cheeks that turned me into a Pierrot. [Well, I have been called worse!]

Shuffling
 warily
 at a snail’s pace

Shuffling 
outdoors
in rubber slippers

Warily 
footprints on ice
under moonless skies

At a snail’s pace 
  safe journey
 perspicacious paths

(C) Tournesol ‘18/11/25

Daily moments November 25th – slippery slopes (troibun)

Le mois des morts   (troibun)

November enters in darkness filled with rain clouds and violent winds.  Leaves forming a patchwork coverlet on lawns.  Darkness and decay embrace. 

The willows stand sadly, hairless and lonely in the meadow of death. Safe for a few pines here and there, wind whistles through bare branches mockingly.    

She cuts the stems of the flowers to avoid having them bow in the wind like rag dolls and places them on her loved one’s bed, still feeling the sting of grief. 

(troiku)

raindrops blend 

sense of decay and lost souls, 

shimmering tears 

 

raindrops blend 

fallen leaves await 

resting for a season 

 

sense of decay and lost souls  

echoing ancient tales 

in eerie silence 

 

shimmering tears 

catch the light 

mourning moon 

© Tournesol ’18/11/04 

Written for Heeding Haiku with Chevrefeuille at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie

A troiku is a new form of haiku created by Chevrefeuille.  I have termed a haibun with this new form, a troibun.

 

 

 

 

Visitation  ( haibun ) 

 It was late one night in December 2014.  Christmas was a few weeks away.  She turned off the sounds of Christmas carols since it felt blasphemy to hear lyrics of “comfort and joy”.   She streamed movies to escape her thoughts when writing was too painful. But in the wee hours of the morning, she would lower the sound so her neighbours could sleep through the night.  “Lucky them,”she often thought.  How she wished she could turn off her brain and sleep.  What a world would be for her to fill her mind with “nothingness”.   

She sat in her lazyboy looking out the window at the snow falling.  Each snowflake different from the other.  How amazing is that? she wondered.  And then she heard her coffee maker making spits and spats.  It was three in the morning.  What the heck is going on? 

She got up and unplugged her coffee maker and said aloud, “Okay, Mom, that was weird.  How the heck did you do that?”   She sat in the old antique chair in the kitchen and felt a presence…her presence.  A cool breeze was blowing her way and she closed her eyes and thought in her mind, “It’s okay, Mom, I’m not scared.  How I miss your hugs!” Tears streaming down her cheeks she felt a coldness pass through her entire body slowly.  How amazing is that?!  Her mother was able to communicate her unconditional love to her even from the afterlife.  Was it her spirit?  Was it her phantom?  Whatever it was, it appeased her knowing her mother was still sticking around for her before travelling in other mysterious spheres.   

breathing
frigid air through her chest
touched by an angel

(c) Tournesol’18-11-03

Her mother passed December 2nd, 2014

What’s new in Tournesol’s jardin (daily moments ) Troibun

A week ago yesterday, I adopted a new kitty of 9 months. Well, I suppose I should say a young cat since she is a teenager now and not a little kitty.  She is a beautiful black domestic, long hair feline with the most elegant demeanour. At first look when I visited the foster home a month ago, I was surprised to see her tiny face.  Usually, (I thought) most kittens had that baby face…round and chubby but not her.  I was surprised how friendly she was with a perfect stranger too and did not even blink an eye when the foster mummy put her in my arms.

Unfortunately, the foster mum explained that my cat had to be up to date with her vaccines before exposing this new feline, the shelter named Bella2.   I had been putting treats for Bette for the past month in her carrier (which she only used once in 6 years) to get her used to going in there to see the Vet.  By the time it was time to leave for the appointment, I almost got her in the carrier but felt uncomfortable being firm and pushing what was left…her big bushy tail and let her out.  My friend was driving me to her vet and I asked her to come in and put Bette in the carrier as I just was not able to.  She has 6 cats, 4 kittens and their feral mummy,  very feral and one  or two of her own cats   So yeah, she is better than I am with cats. She is also a saviour for me.  She had watched Bette when I was away in Mexico

Bette fussed very little and went into the carrier.  By the time we got to the vet, Bette stopped meowing.   My friend brought her into the office of the vet who is also an acquaintance from her home country. I registered her name with the technicians and when it was time to see the vet, I knocked on the door of his office, and Bette was lying quietly on her side on the desk as my friend and the vet were chatting. Wow!   He must be a cat whisperer or something, I thought!

Bette was putty in his arms.  She never tried to get away on that stainless steel table either.  The technician came in later to give me instructions and Bette was still docile. When it was time to leave, I asked the technician to put her in the carrier…I still did not feel calm enough and if Bette feels my stress, well, all hell breaks loose.  I am such a wuss. I was the same as a parent, I’m afraid.

Now I had to wait another two weeks as the vet said Bette had to build her immune system before another feline was introduced into our home. I felt so bad having the foster mum keep her another 2 weeks, so I offered to pay for expenses and her time.  She refused, as she is a very devoted feline foster mum and suggested I give an extra donation to the shelter which I did.

I had been looking to adopt a black medium to long hair kitten for months. I had chosen Krishna for a male cat and Kali for a female.  When I first visited Bella, I found Frankie might be a nice name too in honour of Aretha Franklin but after a few days home, I felt her tiny pointy face looked so much like a Bombay cat and Kali it is.

 

She first started homing in my bathroom where I had placed toys, beds and a new cat tree but after 3 days I found that annoying every time I had to use the washroom.  I would stay there as well to entertain her and keep her company a few times in the day and the limited space made in rather uncomfortable, so we graduated to the guest room.  At least there I can sit with her, or lie on the bed and watch a show on my tablet or play with her and she has room to run.

Bette is still hissing at her but not growling as much through the screen I fashioned in front of the doorway when I leave it open for a few minutes.  I put a towel to hide Kali now and give extra yummy treats and meals for Bette placed 3 feet in front of the door so  she can get a scent of her new step-sister. Any positive reinforcements I am trying to help her accept Kali.  Although at feeding times, Kali is too distracted with Bette…it shows she wants to just play with her. She is calm when Bette hisses as if she understands what she is going through.  I’m telling you, Kali is quite special. I think Bette may also be more afraid as she has always been  spooked by any change.

Image may contain: cat

 

It is a slow process and I have to respect Bette who has been the matriarch of this entire apartment for 6 years.  Watching lots of Jackson Galaxy’s shows on Youtube has helped to learn tricks too.  Coincidentally, I received his latest book, Total Cat MoJo in the mail the same day Kali arrive.  How cool is that?!

I got more cat toys for both cats and I find Bette is more interested to play now (that will certainly help lose some of her belly fat!).

One of our quality times together is my bath time…she is so adorable.Image may contain: cat

So that is the update of what is going on in my jardin (garden) lately.

Image may contain: cat and indoor

With the beauty of Instagram I can pretend they are friend…BFF’s (Best Feline Friends)

 

 

No automatic alt text available.

feline friends
soft and cuddly
warm my bed

feline friends
two are better than one
fill me with joy

soft and cuddly
soothing to the touch
I fall asleep

warm my bed
purring machines at work
heart stops racing

(c) Tournesol ’18/10/20

The reason I adopted a black cat is the are the ones who are least adopted.

 

Shameless …the show (troibun)

Watching the series Shameless (not the original British version but the American) is like riding an emotional roller coaster. You feel pity, anger, sadness, surprise, joy and mostly there are times you face your own demons. Whatever those challenges you have gone through, be it being manipulated by narcissists or charming addictive personalities…the list is long and each viewer may be experiencing something different. However, outrageous as it may be it is raw and real. Dealing with poverty, questioning sexual orientation, puberty, first love and so much more, viewers will not be bored. There will be times you will hate the father, Frank and yet what would the show be without him. He is conniving and a bit too smart which adds to his manipulative nature.

using and dealing
living life
unknown tomorrows

using and dealing
drugs, alcohol and money
comes and goes

living life
recovering from battle
one day at a time

unknown tomorrows
only rewards
lost memories

Watching Season 7, Episode 11 brings stabs at my heart rekindling that feeling Fiona has, as she leaves a special person in assisted living.

reading her face
lines of confusion
I’m wretched with guilt

reading her face
looking at me one last time
taking her last breath

No matter which season or episode you watch, you learn something as long as viewers get off their high horse or get their stick out of their ‘bleep’.

(c) Tournesol 18/10/05

What do you do when you are finished the series?  Watch the original British version of Shameless on Netflix of course if you have not already.

who will remove all the weeds? (Troibun)

(c)Clr’18

She sits in her armchair, her feline friend loyally by her side on her comfy bench. A time to think of life past and present not knowing what the future will bring. One lives a life filled with hope as a child, moments of despair as a teen filled with hope and fairy tales, somewhat like a garden. And then becomes an adult and reality settles in…

Adulthood brings puzzlement and how many seeds to plant and how to remove the weeds. Mistakes and suffering only bring more valuable life lessons.

Middle age seeks passion and discernment, finding a bigger terrain that will house the most thriving and nourishing garden. If one is fortunate, they will be rewarded with their dream garden filling all their needs especially that of compassion in helping new seedlings to flourish into beautiful flora despite broken stems or torn leaves.

Such a rich terrain makes room for a harvest filled with her first love since she was a child, to continue nurturing and healing the wounded and broken petals. Discovering such grounds has become her reward and blessing… the end of that road leading to her own fairy tale.

Another phase in the life cycle…one no longer calls the 60’s old age because women and men are usually more active and needed in appreciated in society especially for their hard-earned wisdom. They work well into their 80’s and so she is pleased to continue, still breathing the passion for such toils.

Time passes and she struggles to find the time and energy to tend to young seedlings and perennials overcome with intruders. Such nuisances we call weeds are the consequences of new tillage governed by those who do not understand the true meaning of tending to the heart of a garden, taking time to weed out the bad with care, gently and not intrusive.

Alas, this seasoned gardener is overcome with such changes and unhealthy rules; she strives to tend as best she can…loving every seedling and plant in her tillage that has become her life’s passion. She continues to feel a weight of conflicting rules, she also feels defeated at times and knows not how long her garden will continue to flourish. For now, she perseveres and follows her heart despite the bloody weeds and interference, but for how long before the flowers are overwhelmed by weeds?

tilling the soil
overcome with weeds
twilight enters

tilling the soil
remembering better times
room to grow

overcome with weeds
on her knees praying
for a miracle

twilight enters
clouds hiding harvest moon
seedlings cry in wait

© Tournesol’18/09/20

Daily Moments – Who will remove all the weeds? – Troibun Sept 20/18