A half day of work

Today was my short day of work. I’d planned to finish work at noon, get a very long overdue haircut, and then pack for our trip to Manitoba. This would have worked out well, except for the fact sometimes, people need a little bit more.

And so, as I always do, I filled my afternoon back in with “just one more” until I looked at the clock and realized it was four pm.

This was my short day this week. It made me stop and shake my head at myself. 

Once again, my attempt to take time off had disastrous results, simply due to my inability to turn off the feeling that I should be able to be everything for everyone at every moment.

It’s a skill I’ve been working on, but so far, I haven’t mastered it yet. 

There’s so many books out there about this- whether it’s leaning in, leaning out, finding your zen or discovering balance,

There’s as many opinions as there is ass…umptions. 

We assume that people have control over their choices. And sometimes, they do. 

Today, I had a choice.

I could have chosen to stick to that half day. And maybe another day, I would have.

Today, I fit in those people who were having a hard time.

People whose worlds had recently crumbled,

And a few that were just hanging on. 

I didn’t need to do it,

but I chose to because they hadn’t chosen to see me- 

they needed to. 

As much as my plans were delayed a few hours, I like to think that those hours that would have been used in packing 

Were instead used to make a difference in someone’s life.

Today, I feel grateful that I could take time from my day and give it to someone else.

Maybe someday, I’ll have the favour returned 

and be thankful someone was able to give me a few minutes when I needed them 


Rising early each day,He watches the night dissolve into the grey mist of morning,

The lonely sound of a rooster his only companion

There are animals to tend to,

Chores to complete

He worries about the sun and the rain, which are beyond his control,

Watching weather the way others follow a sport,


full of predictions and anticipation, sitting around a table with others like him, breaking down the season ahead.

Rich black soil is his gold,

More precious than any object,

Smelling of rain and new life,

He gives thanks for his blessings 
Hoping this year the crop doesn’t fail

So that he has enough in the fall

To do it all again next spring 

The white pyjamas 

Tonight I put him in a silky white onesie, 

with Winnie the poo and tiger too

My favourite pyjamas,

He was so soft, my little kitty. He gave me big hugs,

Looking so edible in his little boy delight, pleased with how handsome he was. 

Strutting like a prize fighter, shoulders back, head up high

His moods are mercurial, flashing smiles one minute,

 lightning and storm clouds the next

He’s getting bigger by the day, 

easier to understand, conversational beyond the soother he twirls 

like a stogie.

My funny boy, 

my squishy man,

My little dude

I’ll hold your hand as long as you allow,

And hug you as much as I can now, 

before you grow up and away from me,

The way little boys do


The moments are there

if we look for them, 

hidden in the everyday
The laughter of a child, 

innocent and free, 

coming deep from within,

 a true belly laugh of joy
The soft warmth of a contented cat,

purring as it lies, 

rolled into a ball across your lap.
The sun in a beautiful blue sky, 

strong and glorious 

against white cotton clouds
A gentle breeze, 

crisp and invigorating, 

nature’s balance to the sun 
Good food,

good company, 

lively conversation
The love of a family,

cuddled around 

watching a movie at day’s end,

relaxing together 
These are the moments to savor,

hold on tight with both hands.

Place them in your memory box,

to keep them forever
A buffer for the bad,

one moment a day

keeps sadness at bay


A small grey sparrow,

It stood there,

Daring me

In the middle of the road,

Head tilted in the classic

“bring it on” position
At first I was confused,

Not understanding until 

I got closer and realized

Here was the boss

Full of moxie,


More courage than size.
I nodded to it’s nerve

And drove around

That little bird

Sometimes in life

We must stand for what we desire

Like a grey sparrow

Alone against the world 


Spread out over the table 

Material gleams in the light


The Tailor measures 


Then cuts along the lines

Precise in each motion

Each piece loving placed,

In the correct position 

The Tailor sighs, 

smoothing out the wrinkles

Delicately the work of union begins

Painstaking in nature

Each step essential,

None paramount to another

Slowly the garment takes shape,
Becoming what it was meant to be

Through hard work

And effort

Beautiful in prescence 


Adored for the glory within

The tailor works continually
striving to create beauty

Never satisfied enough to 


Knowing that life’s purpose
Is to move forward,

Leaving the world 


With the gifts we share


Bombarded with soft projectiles

upon entering the house,

Tears over who gets first dibs, 

barely mollified by promises to 

leave and return,

All for “first hug” priviledges
I watch as my Boy talks 

to a piece of cheese,

hanging it up with a beep

The Girls fighting

over who gets to talk, 


Stop interrupting me!
Warm bodies draped on all sides,

Snuggling into mommy

They laugh at silly putty cartoons, 

I smell the clean scent 

freshly washed children,

My heart swells

Hold on tight
Silky hair and tiny feet

my little bumble bee

my princess

my knight
My legacy

The depths 

I’m going to bury it, 

Deep down 

Hide it away from the light 

Tuck it in with darkness,

And smother it with night

If I can’t see it, 
will it die?

Leave and never 

come out in the day?

Or will it hide, out of sight

And wait until the ground shifts,

Until the dirt loosens

and falls away,

crawling up and out of its grave

Awake and hungry

Is it better to confront your fears
or let them fester,

Rotting until they grow in despair?

If the only thing we have to fear

Is fear itself,

Why do so many things come back

To haunt us?

I’ll ponder it later

But for now,

I have work to do

My Boy

My little mouse, 

Sleek and quick,

Full of mischief,

Twinkling soul 

Soft curls,

Bright blue eyes

You make me smile, 

Such easy laughter

Grit and fire,

Energy and industry

Snuggles at night

Heart of gold 

Hold on tight,

Before he grows

Mommy’s little boy,

Forever in love

Night epiphany 

I dreamed I was flying the other night,Across the land, 

Soaring like an eagle

The wind was sweet against my face, 

The sun warm against my back
Icarus in flight, 

But a successful caper this time,

Not falling to earth in tragedy
When I woke, flightless and sore

I sorrowed for the lost night

Full of freedom and flight

Yearning for the impossible

many miles above my slumber
Angry, I railed at the fates 

Why have I been shown such beauty 

Only to have it taken away?
The answer was quick; 

Be grateful for the gifts you receive,

They are not rights, 

They can not be owned

Appreciate each moment 

it will inevitably pass 
Just as Daedalus watched his son fly 

gloriously into the sky

So too, did he watch him plummet 

to the sea,

Washing away his love
I bent my head in humble understanding,

Thankful for the chance to be 


To a deeper appreciation 

of my blessings