Puttering in our small garden brings me joy. It helps me focus on beautiful things while acknowledging humanity’s challenges with natural disasters and oppressive regimes.
Upward view of Scarlet Runner Beans and silhouette of a fly resting on a leaf
I comfort myself by remembering my monthly donations to humanitarian organizations responding to disasters and medical emergencies. It’s the most I can do on a retirement income and limited energy from my quiet and safe corner of the world.
Odd little flower growing from the patio stone crack under the compost drum. Floribunda Petunia apparently.
We can cheer on the little guy, the refugee and oppressed as they rise from the rubble in a display of determination and beauty.
The first zucchini flower
We can hope for a modest harvest to celebrate our nurturing efforts. We can only provide so much support, love and patience for the late bloomers struggling to establish their place in our world.
Scarlet Runner Bean blossoms under the watchful eye of the garden owl
We should reflect on how nostalgia holds us back from what can be, for our descendents and the natural world ahead. It is important to respect traditions, but recognize what to let go of and what to embrace as we move forward in support of future generations.
Growing Scarlet Runner Beans and encouraging their climbing vines is one tradition I hold onto in honour of my parents and the summer gardens at the old homestead on Georgian Bay. I hold onto the nostalgia of growing up in a small town, free to roam the yards, forests and waters, oblivious to the risks.
Thank you for stopping by. What are you growing in your gardens?
Greetings from Eastern Ontario where we can give thanks for a slow, gentle spring and peaceful surroundings. It is easy to become overwhelmed by news of the cruelty and greed of some world leaders but we can remind ourselves that these events are beyond our control. What is within our control is coming together in small ways to help others locally and internationally.
I recently made a short trip by train to join hundreds of other do-gooders for a conference where we heard many presenters speaking about projects that help local and international communities with the basics like food sharing, water collection and disease prevention. The session about human trafficking was an eye opener. We learned how to watch for clues about suspicious activities, how to not engage but report them to the authorities.
Late lunch on the train. Business Class, Baby!
Attending the conference was a good opportunity to manage my PTSD symptoms, to push my limits of social anxieties by meeting new people, touring the exhibit tables to hear about various philanthropic projects and activities. During lulls in the day, I retreated to the quiet of my hotel room and the large screen television with dozens of channels – or to recharge with a cat nap.
I dressed up appropriately for the gala dinner, sat at the large circular table with seven strangers, glommed on to a gentleman I had met earlier in the day, finding him to be a good talker about his club’s charitable activities. By the time dessert was served during the fundraising auction and pandemonium of lubricated voices, I felt the exhausted need to say goodnight and escape to my hotel room.
My travel reading was a hard cover public library copy of “Atomic Habits” by James Clear. Of the wisdom I harvested from it, it’s about achieving goals by following a good habit system even if it will take a while with small, gradual attempts. In theory, one should also be able to use a system to cease a bad habit. You know, like snacking, stress eating due to the state of the world. I need to apply some of the key advice from the weight-loss app that got me through 12 weeks of a shitty winter. It helped me lose 15 pounds. Yay, me!
Another goal I achieved earlier this month was to attend a live show, An Evening with Fran Lebowitz at the NAC (National Arts Centre). It was a good show but the Q&A session was frustrating due to audience members having to yell out their questions since there was no roaming microphone. I wish people would learn to keep their preambles SHORT and get to the question!
That solo outing challenged my anxieties for using public transportation alone – at night. I felt empowered as I achieved another goal, managing another fear.
An Evening with Fran Lebowitz at the NAC
I have joked that I want to be confidently opinionated like Fran Lebowitz “when I grow up”. One seasoned writing and editing friend advised me that I will need a thick skin if I want to write and opinionate like Fran “…because she gets a lot of criticism, but she stays true to herself.” Agreed. One does not want to attract negative attention.
Getting out and about in my community brings me joy by seeing neighbours and friends, and helps keep the body moving. Just recently, I attended the Canadian Tulip Festival with a friend. More like we quickly toured the many colourful tulip beds on display near Dow’s Lake while avoiding the crowds, tolerating noise from nearby traffic and construction of a new hospital.
pic tulip bed no stomping sign
Been there. Done that. I even have a golden pin from a visit in 1987.
We escaped the colourful chaos by walking the dusty, winding paths to the Arboretum. Once we reached the peaceful, green surroundings, we sat on a bench to enjoy a snack and a sip of water.
At this stage in life, one has to be aware of how much fluid one consumes when out and about else one will be seeking washroom facilities.
I even shared bits of my PB&J sandwich with a curious grey squirrel.
The final attraction of our tour was to introduce my friend to the old Bebb’s Oak tree I had befriended over 20 years ago when participating in an environmental fundraiser. As I rounded the corner of the fundraising path, the tree’s image reminded me of a photo of my late bearded Father leaning on a cane. The old fella is still there, his long, thick limbs propped up, but has lost a few due to wind storms. He is surrounded by protective fencing lest a human should become injured or children try to climb him. That brought nostalgia from the days I would take three offspring there for picnics. I just wanted to say hello and farewell before management decides his fate. I am ready to say goodbye.
Short blonde woman standing in front of an ageing oak tree
In closing, I am thankful for the cool, gentle spring. I am bracing for the summer heat thanks to two air conditioners installed with the help of two adult offspring. As long as the power grid holds up, I can retreat to my humble home for comfort, settling in to read a good book.
Note: The term “Small Achievable Goals” was inspired by a CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Corporation) comedy series. It’s a “comedy following Kris and Julie, two wildly different women on an unpredictable journey of transformation as they battle menopause, midlife and making a podcast – together.”https://gem.cbc.ca/small-achievable-goals
I can relate. According to a Google search AI summary, an alternate definition for the term is “granular objectives broken down from larger ambitions”. Sort of like those Atomic Habits I was reading about. I like it when things come together with a shared theme, wrapped in a pretty bow.
There has been a bridge theme occupying my mind for many months.
A few weeks ago, we Canadians were surprised to hear of structural damage to a bridge in Northern Ontario that joined the east to the west. People were concerned that our vast, beautiful country seemed split in half if only for a couple of days.
This weekend, one of the artistic young adults and I visited Monet, A Bridge to Modernity an exhibit at the National Gallery. It was beautiful and inspirational. I was glad to have splurged the extra $6 for the audio tour. I also spent a little more money to bring some of the exhibit back to le petit apartment.
A little Monet display in our home
The prints and poster were an appropriate addition to the bare walls in the new dining corner setup. They dissolve the winter blues, fitting the recommended Feng Shui arrangement and colour pallet to welcome the Lunar New Year, the Year of the Monkey.
The Monet experience makes me want to try my hand at water colour painting again and in the impressionist style “en plain air“. Maybe when the weather is more agreeable, yes? Perhaps during the summer, along a river bank.
Ah, river banks.
I grew up near a river that fed into the refreshing Georgian Bay. There were many different bridges that crossed the Seguin River. One was the Canadian Pacific Rail (CPR) bridge that rose above our neighbourhood, spanning the river to the richer side of town. It also marked the division of our side bordering on the Townies from that of the Harbour Bums.
CP rail bridge over the Seguin River, Parry Sound 2015
During a journey to the home town last summer, I got to revisit the bridge’s domain and witness much rebuilding activity along the rails.
Reparation activities along the CPR trestle
These experiences reinforced the theme of building, capturing the beauty of and repairing bridges in the corporeal world.
We can also explore bridges between the past and the present. It can be exciting and emotionally draining when you have reached back to the murky past, bravely transit the present and reach into the fogginess of the future.
Some bridges are worth the risk and energy to cross.
Some bridges (relationships, experiences, etc.) are not worth the toll on one’s health, psyche and sense of self-worth.
When you encounter those that seem cracked and unsupportive, you can choose a different route or tread lightly and keep a safety net handy.
Thanks for dropping by. May all of your bridges be sturdy, lead you to auspicious experiences and destinations. May they join and not divide.
Deep Blonde Thoughts 