Last night I was surprised to see the time when I woke up at only 2 in the morning. It’s amazing how a deep sleep can feel like you have slept for a long time. I slipped back to sleep and then…
I was riding my bike back home to the house where I grew up in my hometown. It was not quite dawn…the sky was grey and the sun had not started to come up yet. As I approached the house, I thought I should put my bike in the house not to get it stolen.
“How come I had not thought of that before since there are so many robberies at this part of town?”
Suddenly I saw my car parked and decided to stick the bike in the car but then I saw a car backing up to come and talk to me, so frantically shoved the bike in the front but was not fast enough and the car was about a metre from me. He rolled down his window and I was about to approach out of habit…but then I froze realizing the social distancing advised was two metres. I knew I was dreaming, and I really wanted to wake up because I sensed there was danger. The man wanted to talk, said he felt socially isolated and got out of his car …I ran to house but could not unlock the door fast enough and close it behind me…he pushed the door and as I backed away he came closer and I thought he was going to rape me. But he just wanted to hold someone…just wanted someone to talk to. My heart totally understood but my brain was speeding and telling me this was way too dangerous.
I kept backing up slowly but still listening. One could tell this man was suffering but I was not sure if he could control his frustrations.
I woke up at 5:30 AM and there was still an hour or so before I should get up for work…but I could not help but feel I might go back to the same dream. I put on my mask for my eyes and kept repeating my mantra and imagining the face of Amma, hoping I could fall asleep…I did but not in a deep sleep but back into the same dream…
We talked in the living room…I was sitting on the couch and he on the footstool with such a heavy look of defeat. I felt so bad that this virus had done this to him but also worried for my health. Feeling guilty for thinking of myself and feeling empathy for him…not a great place to be…and then I woke up at 6:30 and got up. Enough already!!
I took my time getting ready for work, setting up my laptop, my tv as a second monitor and sticking important papers on my cupboard door to have everything in my view.
I took out the garbage and recycling as well since it was very early and pouring rain I could avoid seeing anyone. I wore my new white cotton gloves and then dumped them in the wash and logged onto my laptop.
What a way to start my day!
hearing their stories
describing a dystopia
makes my skin crawl
Watching the rolling waves after the thunder storm, soothing to the ear but still heavy with dampness. My forehead dripped and my breathing slowed. Still, leaning on the railing I looked at the magnificent performance take place…just for me. Hear them laugh In the middle of the night Chasing petticoats Giddy as can be White ruffles of the sea
Berri Métro Station is at the same location of the city bus terminal where many homeless people find warmth from the cold and cool air from the hot muggy summers. On the second undergrown level there are shops and a food court then a door opens to the tunnel leading to the pay stalls. In the tunnel there is a guitarist and you can hear the rare tinkle of spare change in the guitar case. About fifty feet before the stalls there is an amazing pizza counter…cash only and a makeshift interior terrace with tables to eat. For $3.00 you can eat a point of pizza with a soft drink.
cash only pizza window of opportunities begging for coins
When I was pregnant with my daughter, I had stopped working six weeks prior to giving birth. The six weeks at home with my son was a nice transition before his sister arrived. He would lean on my huge tummy and asked me earlier on in the pregnancy how the baby got there. He was only 2 and a half. I knew you could tell children the truth about many things and they would retain what they could grasp…make it simple, I was often told. And so I told him that Daddy had a seed that he gave to Mommy to make the baby grow in my womb (tummy). “How did it get there?” he asked. I explained that Mommy and Daddy kissed and hugged each other very tightly. He seemed to be satisfied with that.
Two years later my step-father had passed and my son felt sorry for my mother being alone. “Nanny,” he started, “You should have a baby so you won’t be so lonely.” She explained that she had to have a husband to have a baby. He responded, “Well, I could give you my seed from my testicle and you could swallow it and then you would have a baby.” My mother was SHOCKED but we always got a kick out of that cute story of pure kindness and innocence.
I really must go back home, mom’s home, to sit by the window and look at the dance of birds. So many different birds taking their turn pecking at the feeder hanging over la rivière Yamaska. What astonished me was the cardinal who is twice the size of the other birds not gaining control over these birds. I guess in the feathered world, size does not matter but cunning prowess and speed does. Why who would have thought that “foxiness” reigns (grins) among birds?
hummingbird wins the contest
dancing on the feeder
Going to the farmers’ market as a young child was an adventure. My grandmother would take me and I enjoyed the social aspect of it. Farmers chatting with GrandMaman, so many knew her for she was a midwife and probably assisted many births in those farm houses. It was also a place appropriate to bargain at the local market and sometimes just listening to some of the bantering made it fun to be here with her. It’s sort of cool tagging along someone so well known, respected and loved.
Although we lived in town she still knew her fresh vegetables seeing as she had several gardens, flora and vegetables and she knew how to choose fresh meat. She would even test fish by taking a tiny piece raw and taste it to see if it was really fresh; I guess it is no surprise that I learned to eat a tiny portion of fresh extra-lean grown steak raw sprinkled with salt while she was making hamburgers. You have to remember that in those days we went to the butcher and saw him grind the fresh steak.
old woman picks at the fish
it glared at her
I get expectant feelings as I imagine butterflies,insects, stray cats, rodents and birds making a home wherever they can especially during our cold winter months. Even a homeless person who may find a “good spot” shielded from bitter cold winds and rain appreciates our view of “nothing” as “home”.
Verger d’Emilie winter’s hostage free rent
abandoned kiosk finch and sparrows moving in
~ moving in cats and mice playing nice catch me if you can
~ padlocked fruit stand, awning offers shelter, beggar’s castle
This should be fun although I love both kigo words snowflakes representing weather my part of the world and the sunflowers being admired by my Aussie friends….lucky Sandy, Jen and Michael, I will write on both.
Snowflakes are pretty but when they stick to your lashes and the cold wind makes my eyes weep, well, it’s a dangerous combination, that’s all I’m saying. Tonight I walked home in the bitter cold at minus 27 C and who knows with the wind chill…I was prepared with extra warm socks in sheep skin lined boots (Saute Mouton), layers of wool sweaters under my warm coat, Gortex glove and mittens, cagoule under pilot hat and eternity mohair scarf…but my cagoule kept slipping leaving my face exposed to the frigid air.
on my lashes blind me
slipped on ice
snowflakes adorn the trees
fancy a sunburn
The sky was clear tonight with the odd cloud splashed here and there on that navy canvas and I knew it was the last night to savour this full moon. I had to take a glove off my right hand to take a few photos with my smartphone since it works only with the heat of a hand….click, click until I could no longer feel my fingers…that was my warning to head into the warmth. It was so worth the cold hand. The moon smiling down on me was as if my mom was somewhere nearby.
This summer I hope to take more advantage of just relaxing and reading outdoors. I tend to carry my tablet everywhere to write….but by a lake or pond would be a nice change. I look forward to that, and sitting a garden of daisies or sunflowers…or both!
This prompt made me think of the tall golden grass in the autumn. I wonder if I could have collected some and braided it, somewhat like our autumn decorations at Thanksgiving with dried corn cobs and long braided husks.
Walking in the freezing yesterday, I noticed the long golden grass had frozen as if promises for Spring were frozen in time during the cold winter months. Perhaps winter is a time to percolate ideas and spring is to put some of these into action and fruition.
As we begin a new year, the Japanese culture adorns their front doors with sacred rope to ward off evil spirits…somewhat like protecting the hibernation of treasured thoughts, hopes and prayers.
braided rice straw
hangs at the entrance
barring evil spirits
hangs at the entrance
open to abundance
barring evil spirits
faith in the new year