sighs of powerlessness ~ Troibun

After snoozing the alarm four times, she rolls over and greets her bff, petting her thick soft fur and whispering “I love you’s”. She then finally rises to the challenge of another new work week. Shuffling to her other bff, she opens the door to the guest room and hears the joyful purrs and meows this unique creature has. Her name is Kali. She runs up to her big, fluffy sister, Bette and is greeted with a hiss. No problem, little Kali seems to be thinking and she runs to her mistress for a pet and then lies on her tummy stretching her front paws about a metre distant from Big Sis and waits for some sign that maybe today will be the day they will play…such a patient little thing!

It is amusing to watch these two felines as she runs a hot bath to oil her old joints and then she moves on to the morning REAL priority: starting the coffee and feeding the cats.

Another week is starting and she tries very hard not think about it. Although she loves the support she offers, she is finding less comfort in the environment which no longer seems to shed enough light. She can literally hear the grumbling from within her peers’ body language and darkness hovering over their heads…

 

relentless 
deafening screams within
daunting reminders
 
relentless
dark clouds casting shadows
foreboding
 
deafening screams within
hearing their disturbing tales
smothered in despair
 
daunting reminders
exhaling melancholy
sighs of helplessness
 
© Tournesol ‘19/01/13
 
bff means best feline friend.

waiting for countdown (troiku – senryu)

knitting
weaving thoughts 
melancholy wool

knitting
dropping that last stitch
New Year’s Eve

weaving thoughts 
balancing hands and loom
in tandem

melancholy wool
patching wounds
forgiveness heals

© Tournesol ‘18/12/31

tic toc tic toc
waiting
countdown to midnight

(c) Tournesol’18-12-31

holiday dreams (troiku) RonavanWrites Haiku – slow-burn

(c) Clr ’18

 
Hot mug of cocoa 
Sitting before a crackling fire 
Eyelids slowly close 
 
Hot mug of cocoa 
Memories of long ago 
Scents of childhood 
 
Sitting before a crackling fire 
Birch logs burning ever slowly 
Embers glow 
 
Eyelids slowly close 
Dreaming of ol’ saint Nic 
Sleigh bells tin-a-ling  
 
© Tournesol ‘18/12/19 
 
A Troku is a new form of haiku created by Chévrefeuille at Carpe Dieme Haiku Kai  
This is written for RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku: Slow & Burn

an angel in the night

every inn is full 
  an angel in the night 
leads them to shelter 
 
every inn is full 
  stars bejewel a stable 
such humble beginnings 
 
an angel in the night 
 carries a sacred message 
a king is born 
 
leads them to shelter 
   babe swaddled in a manager 
wise men bearing gifts 
 
© Tournesol `18-12-15

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 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
     
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 




Dear Emma – troibun

How I have missed writing to you, dearest Emma!  Ah and to spend a day of searching for prompts on different blogs, teasing my muse here and there, are rewards after a long week.  This morning I started writing and it seemed to match the weather, unfortunately. Well, I should not say it is a misfortune since any  kind of writing is a way to remove clutter in my mind and allow my muse to cleanse my soul. My oh my, doesn’t that sound a bit dramatic?!   

I do believe that pent up emotions, processing a difficult work week or just getting the angst of the holiday season or personal affairs, out of your system is a good way to start fresh.

We are nearing December 2nd and I have noticed that my moods darken a few weeks leading up to that date.  I am not usually conscious of it but this year I want to be a little more aware on how I express it, especially at work.  It is already a heavy and dark time for any kind of crisis/ helpline with broken hearts, abusive relationships and sadly the urge to end it all and leave this f&%$ng world.   Many speak with words of despair and others with such anger, I can see them raise their fist up to the sky. 

This year I have tried to compartmentalise my thoughts and feelings so I could address the needs of our service and not allow one to drown the other when I come home.   However writing was my way of shedding all negativity and helplessness. Despite lack of writing,  I think I have succeeded for the most part but three intensive weekends of school have tested the boundaries of sanity somewhat.

Firstly, I am NOT a morning person and to get up at the ungodly hour of six and see the sun rise…well, alright, it is bittersweet. So radiant a sky even though I am dreadfully exhausted.

Secondly, I have just been accommodated to work three days a week hence two-day intensive weekends for three weeks brought me back to a five-day week.  Yeah, that was certainly more than I had bargained for. 

But it has been a wonderful experience and  I was blessed with an amazing group of students…each and every one is so interesting, kind and helpful.  Each one added to the richness and uniqueness of our class experiences.  Our teacher (for my type of learning anyway) was perfect!  She allowed us to learn from each other and not spoon feed us all the time which, I know, would not have helped me and by the afternoon, I would have fallen asleep.  She motivated us, encouraged us and inspired us with her past experiences, giving us a taste of what to expect. 

She reminded me of my university professor and Dean of the department teaching our practicum in Family Life Education. She would share odd, scary and funny situations to prepare us for teaching children and adults.  The most intimidating stories were from her high school experience in Sex Ed.  And they helped me during my five years where the students labelled me the Sex & Drug Teacher. [I suppose that sounds better than the druggy sex teacher.] 

I still have online grammar assignments to complete under 40 hours [crossing my fingers that will be cut in half] to get my official TEFL certification (Teaching English as a Foreign Language).  I am planning to enjoy a 2-day weekend (Friday and Saturday for me) and hit the books on Tuesday. 

I think I really need this time off.  Perhaps I will rent a car tomorrow so I can pick up some poinsettias to place at my mother’s graveside.  I know it has been already four years and I am certainly not a young person.  I am fortunate to have had my mother in my life so long.  I know I am blessed to have had so many wonderful years growing up, as a young married adult and mother of two children. We have been tied to each other so closely for forty-five years until I moved to Toronto and even then, we spoke regularly and she would end her calls always with, “Don’t forget to say your three Hail Mary’s and Act of Contrition before you go to sleep tonight.”  My visits to Quebec were spending time with her and my children.  How my children had a great relationship with their Nanny.  I remember coming down from Toronto for 24 hours to reassure and calm her a the hospital in Montreal for tests.    I often wish I could have had my transfer much sooner so I could have spent more time with her.

For some odd reason,  my mind is remembering when I took her skinny dipping for the first time in our pool in Saint Mathias. She was giggling like an  nervous teenager.  We went into the water with our bikinis and slowly removed one piece and then the other.   I think about that now and I wonder if Mom was just pretending to be new to this just to make this experience our special mother-daughter thing. 

©Clr;17 Mom & Fred

How I miss her laugh, the scent of her cologne (Clinique Aromatics Elexir for one)  and her soft voice singing along with Englebert Humperdinck and missing most of the words (like me).   Fred, who was her second husband, love of her life and the dad I adored so much, shared her love for Englebert.  They met at his military retirement party.  She was his blind date and it was love at first dance.  I think I loved him even more because he loved my mother and treated her with such respect and affection.   Their relationship was what the movie, Love Story was all about.  He died thirteen years later but was there for my two children and he paced the floors during my labour and loved us all as his own.  My mother is buried next to Fred, so I can chat to both of them when I visit now. 

Celebrating my birthday for the last time with my mom and my grandson, and children

Oh, Emma, did I tell you that I found love letters between my mother and Fred when they were dating?  Ah, such a treasure this is.  At first, I felt guilty as if I was eavesdropping but then again Mom knew how much I loved Fred, so reading them brought me back to my teen years when they met. It was such a great time in her life and mine as well. I was engaged during the same time. Yes, at sixteen secretly and at seventeen on Christmas Eve we told  our family who were in shock! 

Oh my, Emma, my mind is all over the place but that is what a diary is for, isn’t it? 

Thanks for listening as usual, you never interrupt me.

(c)Clr,06
(c) Clr ’15 First birthday without Mom
Senryu

tu me manques 
tu sais 
chaque jour 
 
tu me manques 
quand le soleil se couche 
je te dis bonne nuit 
 
tu sais 
je pris encore tous les jours 
comme tu m’as appris 
 
chaque jour 
ton sourire rayonnant 
nourrit mon coeur 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
you are missed 
you know 
each day 
 
you are missed 
when the sun sets 
I say goodnight to you 
 
you know 
I still pray every day 
like you taught me 
 
each day 
your radiant smile 
feeds my heart 

(c) Tournesol '18-11-30

A troiku is a new haiku form created by Chevrefeuille at CarpDiemHaikuKai. A troibun is a haibun with a troiku.

 

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

comfort is joy (troiku)

warmth
ridding discomfort
magic sac

warmth
radiating gently
hot bubble bath

ridding discomfort
feel my heart beat slower
feline on my chest

magic sac
if only
time could stop

a moment or two
savouring the glow
painlessly

(c) Tournesol ‘ 18/11/19

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