and to all a good night

Ho Ho Hoooo

Santa has put something in me stocking early this year :D I’m honoured this Kissiemuch to be given this Christmas Spirit Award from Santa Robert at Black Tie & Sneakers. Me thinks he read too many of the seasonal ponderings, :D

The rules are, you must be a true Christmas lover to receive this award;

The person to whom you give the award must also be in love with Christmas.
You must link back to the person who gave you the award. P.S. Sorry folks I've tried but the linkie thingie is broken :( but you can find them over dere -->
You must list 5 things that you love about Christmas, if you can’t limit it to 5
things, then keep going till you run out of space!
Pass the award along to as many people as you like, that can be 1 or 50, it’s up
to you but, you must pass it one to at least one person in order to keep the
Christmas cheer going!
Let your recipients know that you have tagged them by leaving them a comment

Hhmmm, thingies I enjoy about this Silly Season

Spiritual, sacred music; Aaron Nevilles ‘Joy To The World’ will make you shiver and rejoice at the same time
Baking cookies :D
Lights, lights and more lights
PaperWhites and Amaryillieseses
Holiday Inn, Scrooged, Bad Elf, The Snow Queen, Shrek The Halls
only 5 eh Robert
Colours of red, gold and green
Sparkles, sparkles and more sparkles
Family, friends and love
Handing out the Christmas crackers and insisting everyone wears those paper hats
Okies I will admit, snow for Christmas Eve and Day and that’s it!


The one person who stands out during all the hustle and bustle is Santa Speedy over at Speedcat Hollydale. A bit ago he posted the most wonderful site dedicated to his granddaughter meeting the jolly ole fellow. I am sure all who read it had tears in their eyes and smiles on their faces. It is truly joyous and captures this season of wonderment and if you too have munchkins more so the better.

A very Happy Kissiemuch I wish for everyone and I thank you for pondering with me. Love & laughter to all, now break out the eggnog :)

Rogues Retreat

I’ve been on this internet thingie Blogging for over a year now and I never cease to be amazed with peoples Blogs. The diaries, wicked humour, beautiful gardens, poetry, very unusual house listings, stories and overall people just wanting their say, to express themselves whichever way.

A person very dear to me has decided to share his writings. Trust me, the man can write poetry, ponderings, and stories. And so I’m introducing you to him thru his Retreat. Crossing toes the coding works and if not his Blog is under Fellow Ponderers.

His story Dishonour now has two Chapters posted with more to come. If you do pop by, leave him a comment, constructively good or bad. This is how we learn what works or doesn’t. Thank you for your time and eyes. Now back to our regular scheduled programme :D

Say it with me, Monarrrrrdaaaa Diddddyma

Looking out on this barren landscape of white shite I pondered what plant I miss the most. Without a doubt tis Beebalm aka Oswego Tea aka Horsemint aka Monarda Didyma. The last being the fave as it rolls off the tongue. The blossoms have always reminded of a 40’s feathery hat. One worn by that crazy aunt on Sundays decked out in white gloves and of course a string of pearls around her neck.

I’ve grown this plant for years or I should say it has grown itself. And it certainly does. Thriving in one area then come Spring you find it 2’ from the spot last seen in. One begins the task of gently easing the suckers out of the ground, then returning to its original place.

Monarrrrrda has to be the funkiest perennial. Square, yes, square, hollow stems reaching 2-4’ high and blossoms on top. If one is lucky another blossom will sprout from the original one both blooming in sync. It never fails to remind me of characters in How The Grinch Stole Christmas. Don’t ask. :)

Clearing the garden in Spring one should always rake the plant. The leaves are used in Earl Grey tea and even after Winters sleep the scent is very strong. These may be harvested mid and late Summer, hung to dry and will see you thru til next growth.

Most of mine is the deep red though I have a much older plant of soft, light purple. Not as strong as the red but lovely planted with a Purple Sandcherry bush. The red is favoured by hummers, bees and butterflies. Hummers of course can fit their beaks perfectly in the individual blossom and will spend an hour sipping from each.

A bed of Monarrrrda also provides the bestest spot for a Summers pondering watching hummingbird toes but that tale is for another day...

Frosty Full Moon

The day burrowed
under its warm blanket &
I too was wrapped and waiting.

Slowly its glow peaked
over the river thru clouds
as a child playing hide and seek.

Its hue of peach
transformed jagged ice
into shimmering crystals.

As it rose higher
its hue slowly lost
becoming whiter then the snow.

Blinding brilliance
shone upon the landscape
creating shadows naught seen in a year.

The Frosty Full Moon
illuminates the night
while I settle watching no longer waiting.

Seasonal Sway

A few posts ago I described the race for winner of the seasonal blooms. My money was on the paper whites and I won. Okies ok, there may have been insider information. For a week they’ve been blooming and folks I have to tell you the scent is intoxicating. A combination of vanilla, jasmine and mockorange. Mmmmmm, even better then Kissiemuch cookies baking.

Well me thinks these have a life of their own. Allow me to explain. I’m use to the creaks and groans of this house, the rants from the forest pygmies not to mention those wayward creatures seeking winters warmth but the new sounds have me perplexed. So perplexed I open cupboard doors and do double takes at the tiniest shadow.

Yesterday morn I took a good sniff to begin the day and the stalks and blooms were bent over a lamp. They are now nearing 2’ high wrapped with a ribbon to keep them from flopping over. All day I would hear a crackle and just shrugged it off to the chill. By night fall they were standing erect, yes, straight up ! Nope the lamp was never turned on so there goes the theory of heat. Do I hear that tune, doo doo doo dooooo.

Before lights out I sniffed once more, I know what you’re pondering but really their scent is so mmmmmmmmm. At that time they were tilting so I moved the pot towards the wall just in case it fell over. Another noise in the night I do not need. This morn, their position remained. Whew, was it too high test tea yesterday?

As I write, they’ve resumed the position of a soldier, uh huh, straight up. I’ve grown paper whites for years and never have they moved like this. Just 5 bulbs placed amongst river stones in a pot nourished with water. That is it. I’m now pondering if the water is the culprit. Taken from the dehumidifier it has been purified kinda sorta. If this be true then if I drink from the vessel will I too sway like a belly dancer :D

I just wanna bake cookies

Tis that time of year when the urge to become Betty Crocker overtakes me. The house filled with delicious scent of cherries, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, walnuts, pecans, coconut and of course chocolate all baked into various doughs.

I began the ingredients shopping early to beat the other Bettys. Refusing to pay $6.00 for a 5 kg bag of All Purpose flour at the grocery store, I visited the local “health food / bulk store”. Strolling aisles looking for the almighty All Purpose, I finally stop at the flour bins. This mind was so unprepared for the assault on my knowledge of baking.

Laid out before me were bins and bins of flours. White, semi-white, dark white, ok there is white and only white. It reminded me of the Benjamin and Moore pallet of 101 shades of white. If one is so possessed with the colour white which in fact is no colour at all then I pity that soul and bet they never coloured outside the lines.

Moving on, I found bins of whole wheat, semi-whole wheat, whole grain, which are good for bread and buns but not cookies. Excellent flours but unless one is baking granolas and o so healthy treats for this season, avoid them. This time of year, I want fruits and nuts and sweetness all wrapped into one.

Next up, bins of smelt flour. Now at these I stood and shook me head. What in heavens name is smelt flour ? The only smelt I know is a fish and on that I’ll pass thank you. I will not give fish smelling cookies to anyone. To add insult to any baker it came in whole wheat hard and whole wheat soft. Does the hard mean there are bones in it and the soft only skin ?

At last, I find the All Purpose. Ahhhhh serenity has found me. I am whole again. Caught in a deep inhale I adjust me eyes and say wait a minute ! What in heavens name is this ? Labeled I see light all purpose, dark all purpose, whole wheat all purpose. This is just so cruel. No where else have I ever seen so many all purposes. All purpose means just that … all purpose. Shoulders droop and a sigh escapes.

Half an hour later I walk out of the grocery store with that 5kg bag under arm. Cradled just so, ensuring it will be cherished and revered during this season. And I will bake cookies :D

Symphony in Snow

A moody day while snow falls yet again. Watching it blanket the landscape I hear strings of Vivaldi. Specifically Concerto No. 4 “L’inverno” or more commonly known as Winter from The Four Seasons.

Clear deep blue sky
on a bitter cold night
as the Full moon shines
upon ice encrusted field
wind twirls slowly, sensuously
enticing wayward snowflakes
to join in the dance
of intensifying beats
leaving those breathless in the wind
scattered yet yearning.

Mmm, calmness after the storm
movement is relaxed and o so calm
air is sweet yet refreshingly cold
while snow falls gently
upon open mouths
of those too savouring this moment.

The symphony nears the end
having reached its peak
yet there is more
there is sorrow for
flurries blown confused
at which way to turn
as dawn draws near
snowflakes ponder
will there be another time
for us caught in the dance
of the swirl.

Lighting the Season

At last, the outside Kissiemuch lights are up and sparkling. Whew. I swag a garland of fresh greens along the top of the veranda and wrap it in white and yellow large bulbs and of course green twinkles. Well they don’t twinkle like those bloody Disco inspired lights from a few years ago. Neighbours would hang them along eaves and flip the switch. Arrghhhhh me eyes me eyes. I felt caught in that video floating on the net of an engineer who wired his home and the exterior lights flashed to Trans Siberian Orchestra every friggen night. If he was mine I would have snuck under the cover of darkness and snipped a few wires. Thank heavens those days are over.

I do enjoy lights this season but there has to be rules. It may be harsh but we will all be better off for it. Trust me :D

1. If you’re decorating a tree wrap the branches please. Ideally the same you would as your own Kissiemuch tree. Don’t be wrapping the trunk with those nets of lights and stop when you can’t reach any further. This only gives night lights to the rodents who chew bark during the Winter.

2. When hanging icicle lights kindly ensure the string is the same colour as the house eave. Tis fine while they are on at night but o dear during daylight those white strings against a black eave are a dead give away and take away the magic.

3. Do not mix that unearthly glow of LED lights with traditional. NO NO NO. Stick with one or the other. That is an assault on the visual senses making munchkins and animals go blind.

4. When confronted with boxes of single colour strings do take the time to mix the bulbs. A yellow string connected to a green connected to an orange connected to a blue connected to a red just isn’t right. Makes me think of a Rubics cube and even that joined successfully isn’t pleasing to the eye.

5. Once done, do flip the switch to ensure all bulbs are lit. Even if it means dragging out the ladder in -20 weather and replacing a few. I’ve seen too many pretty light displays where a few are burnt out. It reminds me of a few teefs missing in a smile. Take the time to check lights in the warmth of your home before hanging outside.

Happy lighting and remember Santa sees those lights and will record who’s are naughty and which ones are nice. He also assures Mortimer is watching over The Pond. :D

Waiting and Watching

They sit and watch
greys, blacks and reds
with wee beady black eyes
in both sides of their heads.

Glaring and staring
waiting for me to finish
the task of planting bulbs
so they can feed their famish

Crafty those buggers be
playing tic tac toe
with the landscaping
and holes dug just so.

Thumping and drumming
bushy tails with anger
I stand with hands on hips
warning of the danger.

Chatter ceases as
visions of their own tails
wrapped around anothers neck
leaves them pale.

The task is complete
and tools stored away
even though squirrels are waiting
I sit back and enjoy the final summers Chardonnay.

hehehehehe :D

And the race is on...

As the Silly Season approaches and the landscape is a dismal pallet of brown, grey, and beige, I purchased a few bulbs to colour my world over the next month or two. The usual Paper Whites or “blanc de papieres” hardy har har, and three Amaryllis are safely potted. And now the race is on.

Too Rouge is out of the pot first having a weeks lead. Bright green leaves 18” high this day, and without a bud to be seen. Yep, tis definitely a gelding. Perhaps I’ll move him next to Pinkie.

Candy Cane, rounds the corner taking the lead. 8” leaves and yes there is a bud hidden amongst them. Wooooooo hoooooooo, she’s number 1 on the race card. Go Candy Cane Go !

Pinkie, brings up the rear. Gated beside Candy Cane, this one is coming up lame. A one inch high leaf and sadly only one may cause Pinkie to be put out of its misery and right into the compost.

The Paper Whites though not of the same stock as the Amaryllis are the favourites to win. Faved, because they are this stable owners’ most loved of the winter bulbs. Their petiteness belies their powerful and o so intoxicating scent. Mmm mmm A much nicer sniff then what’s behind the barn ;)

As Darkness Plays With Us

Darkness wraps her cloak early
extinguishing the flame of day
as mortals blow out a candles’ wick.

Night is silent & calm, to calm
for the chill seeps in causing
our very souls to shudder.

Darkness falls over the land
night, day, is there a fine line
during this season of silence.

Vacant landscape void of colour
surrounds us with no escape
til the legions march in Spring.

Darkness plays with us
daring our souls to best her
& we shall for there is light after all.

Bon Voyage Vince

A lazy Saturday morn, enjoying the paper, CBC, and tea, and out of the corner of me eye I spied movement on the floor. Turning to see it with both eyes I sighed and an “o shite” escaped these lips. I sat and watched it scurry pondering what creature is this. Short tail, wee ears, though it did have furry body it was definitely not a mouse. Those large ears and white gloves were missing.

Behind the stove, then around the fridge he made his way stopping to sniff and look around thinking he was in heaven. The kitchen, clean and warm and no crumbs to be found didn’t make for a banquet. I sat back and pondered all the while saying, “look wee fella there’s just no room at the Inn”. Okies, I know he didn’t understand but it was worth the try.

Finished me tea and with an o well lets get to it attitude the search began. AHA! There he was scraping his wee claws trying to make it over the Wedgwood cabinet. Now that I knew he was behind it I paused and thought what now ? Get thee a bowl I said to meself and so went to the pantry and found a see thru plastic one, good depth so I wouldn’t flatten him and room to move around. Perfect for me home is a “No Squash Zone”. Grabbing it I set forth and plunked down in front of the cabinet.

Dum de dum de dum, I sat and waited. Finally he made a run for it back into the kitchen. Round and round the Palm he goes, where he ends nobody knows. Me mind digressed to the many Merry-Go-Round rides as a youngster. Inhaling, exhaling and poised I waited til just the right moment. I smacked the bowl over and captured the wee bugga. Ha Ha, I shouted with glee, “you’re mine !”

After donning clothes, just so I wouldn’t be questioned by the local constabulary, I found the tape and cardboard. This wee critter was a slippery one so there will be no attempt at sliding the bowls lid underneath. This calls for a more secure lid. With lots of ducttape wrapped around we leave the house. The poor wee thing, scrambled at the lid and left droppings all around. One could say he was scared shiteless :)

As he wasn’t the normal mouse and more of a vole I named him Vince. Kinda fitting for he was long dark and rather handsome. La la la, after Vince Vaughan. Vince and I took a drive though he fought at first but after hearing a soothing voice he knew it was for the best. We ended our journey at the ole creek where I cut the tape and let Vince free to find another nest. Bon Voyage Vinnie, don’t come back soon ya here

That cursor

Damn cursor
blinks at me
from the white screen
waiting for this writer
to have a flash
though I’ve never been flashed
and if I ever was, snip snip
with rusty shears needing oiling
as the season for snipping
is over, they sit on the shelf
with seashells scooped
from The Pond
to dry and whiten over the Winter
a whiteness to rival
the purest snow
fresh fallen on a country field
away from smokestacks
which inhabit the land
colouring the rivers
flowing strong and cold
shuddering those who walk alone
searching for red dogwood
to brighten the planters
stuffed with boughs
of pine, cedar, spruce
bringing colour to the landscape
for the garden is asleep
while they seek their rest
only to revive with vigor
in the Spring

Thru the lens

I love photography, viewing and shooting. Tis one of me passions. Presently I have two, a 26 year ole Minolta SLR and a one year ole Canon digi. If you had to take one from me, I’ll gladly throw you the Canon. I have nothing against digies but heavens after so many years controlling the shots the digi loses every time.

When I began photographing I shot only in black and white. It is pure. You either capture it or you don’t and a bad shot can not be disguised in black and white. Photographing single items and some landscapes ala Ansel Adams, but mostly I shot architecture. The detail fascinates me. Using shadows one can capture so much more then colour.

Minnie went with me everywhere. She became an appendage often choosing her over the purse and for a woman to say that, o the horror ! She has lost a few parts over the years and has more then her share of scratches. I still want to wade in that stream where one of her knobs came off though it is long lost as the stream surely is.

Beginning with the regular 35m lens I later bought zoooooom and macro lenses. Now what fun that macro is ! Thru trial and error we can be no more then 4” from the subject. Meaning I’d find meself laid flat out on the ground capturing moss and lichen and those funky fungi. Some mushrooms no larger then the eraser end of a pencil caught just so perfectly. 3” high morels hiding in the leaves, earthstars ready to burst, and the colourful witches butter so moist on a rotted tree trunk. I won’t even mention the moss photographed. :)

The macro also allows me to shoot another fave, flora, so close you can almost smell the perfume wafting thru the air. A yearly record of the fuschia species, bugs on blooms and of course, spiders ! There are times I’ll see something, shoot, and when developed say oooooooo, didn’t know that was there. Or one of me prized photos of an Oriental poppy backlit by the sun. The orange so vibrant surrounding stamens of such a blue it amazed me when developed.

Ms Zooooom is also a delight. Walking along the river bank on a misty morn the scene was breathtaking, click, click, click, even able to catch the waves of a retreating beaver made it so much more special. Illumination on this site was taken using it. The views I see on country forays are brought home using its features. No more climbing over hill and dale, well almost.

That is what I enjoy the most, the control of the subject. I want to capture on film what these eyes see thru the lens. Sad to say the digi just doesn’t do it. O it is fine for snapping the new paint colour of the kitchen or the latest white shite to email. But that is it. There is too much automatic for my taste, or could it be I’m pressing the wrong buttons, hhmmm. Til I figger it out it shall remain, just Minnie and Me :)

What do they know we don't, hhmmm

Bbbbrrrrrr, the season is upon us. That one, which waxed shovels, scoops have replaced forks and rakes. Windows are sealed shut, furnace tuned, Sorels, parka, mitts, scarves, toque are dug out of the closet, notice I didn’t type socks :), and bird feeders hung.

That brings me to the subject of our avian friends. I’ve noticed very few flocks of geese escaping to the south this Autumn. Last year the familiar V’s began in August and we all know what that Winter was like. Ye gads, tons of white shite. None I’ve seen since I found an ole photo taken in 1962 of me bro and I standing on the banks as high as the house eaves. Those were the days but then our parents had to deal with it, not us for it was our Winter playground. I digress…

Besides few geese, Robins are still about. Either they know something we don’t or their wee brains are still in a sugar high from the bountiful season and dare not want to leave Eden. I prefer to believe the former.

The last Hummer passed thru here September 23 at least a month overdue. Though a pessimist would say, “yeah but they sensed the hurricanes so delayed their flight” geeez. I’m an optimist so I say they did know something.

Blue Jays, Juncos, Chickadeedeedees, Cardinals and Doves are slowly finding their way here. Actually they’ve always been around. Nesting in the pygmy invested forest and stopping by The Pond throughout the year. Tis always a treat watching them, especially the Doves, landing on the iced covered Pond. Hehehehe, a group of bowling pins crashing into each other.

This coming week brings us double digit temps and sunshine ! Woooo hooooooo. Me thinks I’ll toss those Sorels back into the closet though I won’t be removing the snow tires. After all I was a Girl Guide ;)

Waiting

Waiting
(such a wasteful verb)
on family, friends, love
all the while
our own life
is on hold
why?
Lessons learned
or so thought
yet we wait.
Do we wait
for that one moment
validating our existence?
Or do we wait
for we are afraid
the outcome
be not our dream…..

Annoyances II

As Halloween approaches tis time for another installment of annoyances. This time I will focus on Halloween :)

Orange plastic pumpkins. O come on parents don’t you remember the ghoul ole days going from hovel to hovel with pillowcases ! We all used them, dragging behind while we trudged home to spill the bounty onto the living room floor. Then making a mad dash for the next street in search of more goodies. I feel for munchkins today and make it a point to explain they are doing it so wrong ensuring their parents are in earshot. Hehehehehe

Halloween kisses, way beyond Best Before date. I’m sure 50% in the stores are leftovers once again hauled onto the shelves. Lordie, tis like chomping down on a Lego block which I’m sure they could be used when the box is short of them.

Funkins !!! Who in hades invented these? Okies I can understand whimpy city folk not understanding the sheer enjoyment of choosing a real pumpkin, gutting and carving their own BUT a Styrofoam pumpkin so it may be kept year after year ????? This is just not right folks. Boooooo

Store bought costumes. Hhmmmm where has imagination gone. Are sheets with 3 holes not sufficient? What about great aunties frilly pink prom dress, metal clothes hangers twisted and bent to be covered with a cast off slip for wings, stick with a tinfoil star on the end making an easy wand all to revamp your hellion into the perfect faerie. Plaid shirt with bandana, an ole straw hat, dads work boots make a good ole cowboy, or add a pink bandana for a cowgirl. The possibilities are endless when you raid the closet.

LED lit Jack O’ Lanterns. You need the real flicker of a flame to light the face and watch it slowly fade as the candle burns. Think of the thousands, no millions of used batteries tossed. Burn baby burn !

Dentists Treats. Geeeez, I put those in the same category as Weight Watchers pamphlets on Halloween. Let the munchkins eat all they want as it is one night, well if they are good Tricksters their treats may last a week, but a toothbrush ain’t that much fun. So parents will pay the price later, the night is for the kiddies after all.

White Shite. I’m not a fan of this seasonal phase but inches before Halloween? What happened to the crunch of leaves, wind tossing and twirling, whooshing them along with howls?

Enjoy Halloween and may the Trickster in you enjoy in its delight :)

Halloween Haikus

blood torn, hacked fingers
mandolin trashed
chunky cheese will do

spirits rise in darkness
low growing trees
souls fall in splatters

Halloween kisses
temporary sweetness
on a blackened tongue

shrieks from the outhouse
goblins scurry laughing
pinecones replaced newspaper

bats, spiders, rats
smoke rises, nostrils twitch
Igor cooks tonight

Slumber sings

Slumber sings
her nightly song
Tis tme to rest &
bid adieu to the day
Tomorrow the sun will shine
birds will sing
froggies may croak
as the rain has flooded their home
& they’ve popped up again, hehehe
Sleep well
Dream wonderfully
& know the world is just so alright

To quote the great Bill Withers
“ just one look at you and I know it’s going to be a lovely day “

Bonnie voyage

Tis that time of year the creatures living at The Pond seek their Winter sleep. The weather has been chillier then most Octobers yet they have held on. Reading the Milk calendar from years past, o come on now don’t we all save them, the days are colder and they nodded off sooner. I am tickled to say not this year!

Thursday was the last time I saw one floating or more like hanging onto the fading Lotuses. He was a tad glassy, not just his eyes but his entire body as if he was fighting the chill. I should know better as this one, Fille, is use to warming up this time of year. As you see he is an Aussie froggie and we all know Spring has sprung down dere. Lucky buggas those maties be.

However I do believe he sent me a scripted message today. As I was doing the traditional headcount I noticed bubbles on the surface. Stepping in closer I watched them begin deep and float to the surface. Oooooo I pondered. Is this one taking a few last breaths before he swims to the safety of an Aussie Summer or is this Filles way of saying “I fart in your general direction” hardey har har.

Sleep well me froggie friends under your coverlet of thick leaves. I will see you in April when once more you will peep in the Spring and to Fille enjoy your Summer as we all envy you. Bonnie voyage matie :)

In My Lovers' Arms

Gentleness in my lovers’ arms
tender, caring whispers
makes this heart warm.

Warmth in my lovers’ arms
wrapped from the chill
of the cold, damp dark.

Darkness in my lovers’ arms
while shadows sleep
til morn brings light.

Light in my lovers’ arms
the sun shines upon us
yet we seek shelter.

Shelter in my lovers’ arms
from worries and woes
as they flow to the sea forever lost

Lost in my lovers’ arms
away from this earth
we dance amongst stars laughing

Laughter in my lovers’ arms
at life filled with
joy, happiness, and love.

Love in my lovers’ arms
All is as should be…..

I am Honoured

What a wonderful way to begin the day. I was reading some of my favourite Blogs and was astonished to find I had been given an Uber award. I said eh? logged off, brewed another pot of tea, wiped sleep from these eyes and checked it again. Yep there it was Ponderings From The Pond. Thank you so very much to a wonderful poet Robert at http://blacktieandsneakers.blogspot.com as I am truly honoured to receive this from you. Wow.

Okies I haven’t figgered out how to do the linkie thingie, you know the one where you hold your mouse over a word or words, click and magically you’re transported thru cyberspace to that website. I am trying folks and one of these days I will accomplish it ! Trust me I can be quite uummm headstrong which I blame on the redhair. Those who know me are saying “yeah hunhhh, a right persistent wee bugger she is” right now. :D

Tis been just over a year now when I created Ponderings from The Pond. Why the name you may ask? Well I built a pond a few years ago which has brought me such joy. I would send out emails describing the comings and goings changing the email From addie to…Princess of The Pond, hehehehe. More then one friend commented “I see the Princess has been pondering again”, O dat I had been :D So instead of those more often then naught late night emails I decided to join the Blog world where family and friends could read at their leisure.

Most of the ones I favour are thru Comments or the Bloggers choice. If I like the title I’ll visit, or a commentator sounds interesting, clickie clickie. People put so much of themselves into their Blog be it photos, stories, poetry, videos that I feel it has become a Techno Diary. Instead of writing Dear Diary then hiding the book under the mattress and the key in the running shoe (women will know what I write of, wink wink) we share our lives ensuring others and yes even ourselves are never alone in this life.

So in the essence of the Uber award I pass this to Speedy at http://speedcathollydale.blogspot.com who has welcomed me and puts up with some of me comments, hehehe Speedy San, and goes waaaaay beyond sane to create a fun and very interactive Blog. Thank you Eric :D

I give a heartfelt thank you to all who drop by. May me Ponderings bring a smile to your face and leave a giggle in your soul, Cheryl

The Hunters Moon

Trees blocked your rising last night
though I smiled at your reflection
in The Pond as you shone.

Early morn there you were
as I walked searching
still casting your glow over my sleepy town.

Clouds attempted to dimmish you
but as a warrior, a hunter
you held them off with your gleaming armour.

I give thanks to you for waiting up
so as your journey was long
a sweet good night I bid thee.

Jewels of The Season

Mother Nature bestows her Autumn jewels
citrone, rubies, tigers eye, amber, carnelian, citrine
yellow, reds, golds, browns of this season
replacing emeralds, turquoise, amethyst, malachite, jade
the greens, blues, purples of Summer.
This season I so enjoy for the warming colours
as they surround me, shelter me
from the oncoming barrenness of Winters
cold with gems of diamond, sapphire and crystal
til Spring pours her ewar of violet, pinks and crèmes.
One could say she dresses us in her splendid jewels
fitting of the season for she is a woman after all.

Mmmm mmm mmmmmm

Mmmmm Thanksgiving weekend and I’m the DD, the designated desserter for the family get together. Wooooooo hoooooooooooo ! The fam knows me too well not to ask for I love to bake and may add I’m damn good at it. There’s something about finding that special recipe, just words on paper and creating something people enjoy which tickles me fancy. Tis relaxing, especially this day. Just moi, sunshine, warmth, glorious colours of the season, classical music and a yummy recipe which combined makes for a perfect afternoon.

I learned baking from me mum. O she was an awesome baker. Never hesitant to try new recipes, taking her time to experiment and then sharing her spoils. Mum had a devilish streak about her involving her recipes. One particular cookie recipe, Cherry Winks, was to die for. A friend who is a great baker in her own right asked for it. Sure me mum said with a glint in her eye. For years Judi tried and tried but just couldn’t replicate the yumminess. I happened to mention this and dear ole mum said with a smirk “ o dear I must not have given her the exact quantities” Hardey har har mum ! Years later I compared the recipe with Judi and o mumsie hadn’t. Hehehehe. I did surrender all to Judi and to this day she is a happy baker but will never be able to bake the same as mine. After all I am me mothers daughter.

The first attempt at baking pies from scratch was quite the adventure. Once again it was Thanksgiving and I wanted to bake the traditional Pumpkin pie. Well ! I’m going to make the pie shells from scratch too I said as they scoffed at me. The dare had been made. I’ll never forget that night. Lifelines of friends finally had me content with the shells. Now on to the filling. I will admit I used the good ole E.D. Smith as I just wasn’t in the mood to spend a Friday night gutting a pumpkin. Everything went so smoothly even I was surprised and popped the pies in the oven with a smile. Cleaning off the counter I noticed the bowl of eggs and thought hhmmmm why are they sitting there.

O O, and I scrambled for the mitts, yanked open the oven door and grabbed those two pies as if me life depended on their rescue. It wasn’t actually me life but it was me pride at stake. Gently removing the wee dough pumpkins from the tops, I scooped the filling back into the bowl thanking the heavens it hadn’t become too warm. Beat the eggs and mixed them in. Once again filled the shells, double checked the counter for wayward ingredients and content all were gone, popped them back into the oven.

I must say it was the best Pumpkin Pie ever eaten by the fam. They raved about the flaky crust, yummy filling and of course those wee dough pumpkins on top. Did I ever tell them ? Nahhh, no one was injured, gotten sick or died as a result of that production so I will allow them to continue believing I am one damn good baker. Hhmmm, time to recheck that counter ………

He Returns.....

The first day of Autumn fades into darkness. Night air is chilly and silent…almost. These ears hear scratches along wood, rocks tumbling landing with thuds followed by rustling. I tense. No it can’t be, not again. I wait.

There it is ! A different scratch only closer. I silently ask me self, are the windows closed ? doors shut ? Pinkie charged ? Not wanting to be seen thru the open blinds I rise, moving slowly to turn off the light.

Grasping the flashlight I sneak over to the window and flick it on and out into the darkness. Ever so quietly a head appears and the highbeam lights up the night. His eyes burn red staring directly at me.

I dash for my weapon of choice, load it then crank open the window. Taking aim, he’s frozen in the flashlights beam. Slowly I squeeze the trigger yet does not find its target.

I swear he laughs at me and my Super Soaker guaranteed to shoot water 20’. Looks like Rockii has eaten well this Summer returning to the composters for scraps. He climbs out and with a snicker, onto the fence and into the trees.

I laugh. Tomorrow the distance between home and composters will be measured. Odd though, I still feel the need to double check the windows and doors...

Ahoy Maties

I’ve long had a fascination with Pirates. From Errol Flynn swinging his way across the masts to Robert Shaws swashbuckling with that smirk and glint in his eyes as sharp as a sabre, to ooooooooo Johnny Depp. Yummmmy! Now thar’s a man not afraid what his maties would say bout wearing eyeliner. Topping off with the jewellery and dreadlocks he’s makes one fine fashion statement adrift on the seven seas. Only in me dreams do I hear him say “lass, dat be a fine treasure chest ye got thar, arrrhhhhh”.

Tis that time of year where we celebrate the Pirate in all of us. September 19th is International Talk Like a Pirate Day. Arrhhhh, for smoother sailing in these uncharted waters follow this Map and prepared ta be horn swaggled. You too can find yer true Pirate name says I, Red Ethel Vane. Brush up on pickup lines to use when yar 3 master makes port. Learn sea shanties to sing with a grog of rum or a Rogue beer. Long voyages made shorter wit the purdy knittin pattern.

One eye Jack has returned to The Pond and is still swimmin’ in circles. Only this day he wears a patch over the bump where his left eye should be. Arrrhhh. Even froggies celebrate this day. Tis chillier then an Arctic bilge rat so I raise a goblet of Merle and toast the day and to ye all. Arrhhhh

Look Up Look Up, Le Harvest Moon

Mmmmm, the Harvest Moon nears. A moon I always search for thru the clouds and darkness. For most it means the end of summer which is true in a sense but it also heralds colours of such vividness. Hhmmm, is that a word? Tis now :D. I love Autumn not just for the colours but the smells, sounds, the crisp warmth.

A finer day I not know then to walk thru sun filled woods crunching leaves underfoot while looking up and feeling the warmth of colour. The reds, magentas, purples, gold, yellows, mmmmm. They swallow you, warm you, protect you. Scents of dried leaves, pots of chili sauce slowing stewing, the dampness of moss. This is Mother Nature singing her swan song.

Harvest Moon brings to mind one of those songs that will ever remain with you. There is something about the words that make me sway, smile and giggle. No one sings it better then Neil Young.

But there's a full moon risin'
Let's go dancin' in the light
We know where the music's playin'
Let's go out and feel the night.

Because I'm still in love with you
I want to see you dance again
Because I'm still in love with you
On this harvest moon.

Uh hunh, those are the words, feelings, thoughts. Such softness yet no beating around the bush, hehehe. Much like the Harvest Moon. She will shine large and bright. Her regal red shines upon us all.

This Fine Day

This Fine Day sun shines hot upon the land. Gustav's wind has reached me bending trees, twisting leaves. I sit and ponder the garden....

While shaded the soil is rock hard, dried from too many tree roots sucking moisture. I spy wee hostas amongst the hedge asking for a better home. Lattice oblesik has lost some latt or is that latti ? and requires repair. Daylilies droop begging for separation from years of growing on top of themselves. Pots are dry from the wind. Mound of compost under wrap as in a crime scene awaits spreading. Walnuts need to be gathered before the bloody black squirrels, aka Black Barts, play landscaper. Indoor plants outdoors should be bathed before being brought indoors from outdoors, whew. Watching the froggies I note to meself, learn how to use the movie feature in the digi so I can bore me friends with "home" movies. The Walnut tree branch rubbing on the pergola makes such a squeak, that I shall keep.

So much to do in this lovely weather. However I shall ponder these while waiting for the Chardonnay to chill on this fine day :D

Ooooopsies

Summer has finally arrived at The Pond. No rain in ooooo three days and water level dropped so much the froggies were having difficulty hoping out. Hoping in no problem as they tend to jump having Cannonball competitions between themselves.
Wanting to help them save their energy for the Winter sleep I decided to top it off and so hooked up the hose and let water flow. Well, sometimes I get onto other things and kinda sorta fergit.
Walked out to check and oooooopsies, can froggies drown ??? Water overflowed and there they were, sitting about the edge staring and pondering, what is happening here! Where is she! Why is she doing this to us!
Running to the tap, I twisted it almost off in the hurry to stop the water. Whew. Taking attendance I see all are accounted for and none floating. Though Frogue is sitting in one of his two favourite spots, directly across from my throne. The other being the throne rock. Well he sits there and none to happy at the moment. Wee eyes glaring at me with a " may I ask what were you doing that caused you to forget us? " I glare back and say, " just a minute Frogue I was doing you a big favour. After all you are the oldest and ya know what happens when another birthday comes around " wa hahahahahaha
Needless to say no froggies were harmed, perhaps a tad pizzed off, but all is well :)

Summers Last Weekend

Summers last weekend and the night is noisy with the Fairs midway. Geeeee I so love hearing Nickelback blaring blocks away. I pity those living next to the grounds. Windows shut tight, earplugs in trying to lip read the latest TV reality show. Wouldn’t take much thought.

The swoosh of the Octopus ride can be heard faintly along with the kids giggling and screaming. I feel for the animals stabled as I’m sure the racket isn’t something heard every night. Cows must be lulled or the girls just say, “nope this milk store is empty for the next few days til you get me home safe in my bed of straw”.

The Fair brings back fond memories though. As kids we would work every job we could leading up to it. Never mind saving the money for silly things such as pencils and books for school. Nah, Fair weekend was our time to let loose, one more fling before our care free days ended.

Night was the best time to go. We would use one of the less frequented side gates or at least some of us would, ;) While a few would step up and pay admittance keeping the Tickie person busy, others would scramble under and over the chain link fence behind Barn 2. Sometimes the Tickie person knew our folks and would turn the other way whispering “git going”.

Every ride was ridden at least once in a night. The Tilt-A-Whirl, the Octopus, Ferris Wheel. We would stand and watch those young lovers on the Wheel acting all innocent but we knew better. Most were praying it would be stopped just one seat from the top. Hidden in the back from most eyes. Uh Hunh, we were young but not naïve.

Chip wagons, lemonade stands, fudge huts lined the way with their aroma. And those Cotton Candy makers !!! To this day I buy one. Not quite sure what it’s made of but what the hell. Picking pieces and sucking the sugar flavoured with cherry, strawberry. Ya can’t go to a Fair without having Cotton Candy.

O the lights ! Rows and rows of coloured lights lit the way, some blinking to attract us with full pockets like moths to a flame. Ring Toss, Air Rifle, all with your choice of stuffed beasties. Lucky were the ones walking away with the huge teddies, penguins, elephants. We’d giggle poking each other when the young couples walked away. She would be all gushy, hugging the beastie while he strutted along with his arm around her shoulders.

The Fantasy Farm, o yeah now you’re talking, was a must see. Bunnies as big as dogs with ears longer then their legs, roosters with such exotic feathers, wee donkeys protecting their weeer ones from onlookers, chickens, ducks, llamas, the sheep not yet shorn. That would happen next day during the Sheep Shearing Trials. We’d ooo and awww choosing the ones we wanted to have on our fantasy farm.

The Ladies Barns, mmmm. Full to the rafters of quilts recently sewn with care and imagination, baking set out for all to drool over, veggie and flower arrangements, crafts, jams, jellies, photography, even paint by numbers. That always struck me odd asking meself, soooo one gets a prize for painting inside the lines. Hhmmm, what fun is in that. Prize winners set up front with their first, second and third ribbons. Entrants were passionate as a First place prize of $10 hardly buys ingredients for a good Angel Food cake.

I could go on about the days activities such as Cow Chip Tossing, Lawn Mower Racing, Best Calf, but I feel the Fair at night is the only way to enjoy it. And so I am this night, though from a distance and a big smile on me face.

I Fall

I fall...

I fall into bed
grasping sheets and pillows
holding them tight

I fall into light
as the sun rises
shading my face

I fall into life
ever busy not living
pondering its meaning

I fall into night
welcoming the sheltering darkness
safe once more

I fall...

Truth Be Known At Last

Day slowly slips away
as Luna arrives
not yet worn, shining brightly.
Ripples in the Moonlight
reveal their presence
watching, always watching.
I ponder……
If they ever truly sleep
close their eyes and drift off
floating to a far away Pond.
Do they seek planters and pots
up high out of harms way
for their night slumber.
Balls ping against each other
while lotus drifts along
moved silently by those in the dark.
Garden lights flicker
as I watch and wait
pondering their plight.
Creatures in shadow move
slowly with assurance
cross the stones.
Tis feeding time for the
night crawlers, moths, spiders
provide the feast.
Their serenade foretells
moisture is on its way though
perhaps this night they sing for their supper.

Rolling Hello's

Stopped and idling as the 10:13 rolls thru town. These eyes search each rail car for signs. Signs of life, and I was not disappointed. I’ve often pondered who are these people, where are they, do they ever see their creations again? As for why, I already know as there is a creative soul in each and every one of us seeking an audience. An audience of one, ourselves, or an audience of millions, however many……an audience.

To some it is graffiti though I see it as a signature. Similar to carved initials in a tree trunk or a note in a bottle tossed into the sea. An affirmation of our existence. Hello, I am here. I am now. I am alive.

The colours, style and subject intrigue me. There are raw coloured phrases no doubt from the hands of angry youth. Look at me! They shout out. I’m here damnit! The scribbles in black spray paint are younguns with too much time on their hands and the devil whispering in their ears. Ahhhh, me faves appear. Brightly coloured paintings of flowers, mermaids, wrapped in signatures, words flowing, melting into each other. Lastly, words such as RIDLE, TEMPER, and JOSE outlined in a hard script, as if they had to scurry when the night watchman rounded the corner. I wonder would they have filled in the letters given time.

Next time when stopped and idle look closely at the passing rail cars and smile. For there is life and that life says Hello.

It Was A Dark and Stormy Night........

We all know that beginning but did you know there is a site dedicated to Wretched Writers of The World. The results are in for 2008 which I've been anxiously waiting much like a nine year old waits for the Sears Christmas Wish Book to arrive in August so the Dear Santa list can be started knowing she has at least four months to clean up her act. Okies, that was not an entry :) I can write much worser though I prefer to call them ponderings. Anyhoo this is the website http://www.bulwer-lytton.com. I have yet to figer out how to create those neat over thingies where you hold your mousie over highlighted words and the website magically appears so copy and paste will do you for now. Enjoy !!!

A Dusting

I dust off brushes, blowing into the light
Remnants of colours swirl, slowly as a ciggies smoke
Hue lost ago, only fragments remain
Easing their way, languidly
Followed by these eyes

Up, around, drawn in to the warmth
They dance, sparkling, fluttering to and fro
I am entranced with movement
Canvas lies bare, awaiting
Brushes caress

Notes To Self

Do not pot up in pure compost. Thought I was saving fertilizing but d’oh compost is mostly nitrogen. The Lantanas have never been as green.

Never have the last goblet of Merlot on a Sunday eve when Monday is a civic holiday. Quebec is an hours drive.

Do not start painting a room on the leftist wall when one is right handed. Does Tide really wash the paint off ones bum?

Even if the local Doppler shows no rain within a 500 miles radius roll up the car windows. Never mind the neighbours cat likes to curl up inside.

When watching a Pipe band have handy a battery operated fan for failed breeze. Better yet enjoy during a Hurricane 5.0 force wind.

Press the automatic car window button down when you want it to go down. Vicie versie if you want it up. Maybe me rhythm is off.

Recount the cans of Chick Peas in the cupboard before shopping. Hhmmm, do canned goods really last 3 years?

Do not put damp towels in the dryer waiting for a rainless day. That green is not the original colour.

O I'm sure there will be more for if it weren't for stickies I'd be lost :D

5-7-5

darkness of the night
soft white glow beneath the cloak
Moonflower beams light

Ha Ha! I did it ! Follow the 5-7-5 flow of traditional Haiku. I enjoy most styles of poetry but none so much as straight from the heart. Those poems who cause me to seek the dictionary only serve the poets ego. Tis not me style. Shelby is a fave, such a romantic he was. e.e. cummings, well his "i carry your heart with me" is just so perfect.

I find as I ummmm, mature, yes that's the verb, I lean towards Haiku though more in the non-traditional way. Fewer the words used to describe a moment the more heartfelt. Long ago I spent eves sipping tea with a dear ole friend Willa, an artists soul had she. We wrote, or she wrote Haikus and did her best to teach me the rhythm of 5-7-5. Alas, seeking so many words when less would do, didn't make me the best student. Still I shall never forget our time. Slainte Willa !

Tiny words is a wonderful site dedicated to Haikus. Very tiny words with such expression. They capture the moment o so true, as it should be.......

She is Cranky

She blew fierce this night
Mother Nature is cranky
The grande ole gal suffering from years of abuse
Now rages

Rain a deluge,
Froggies huddled under hostas seeking relief
Clouds rolling, dark and o so angry
Growling hard

Lightning lit the eve,
Silver sabres pierced the darkness
Combating with candle flickers
None win

Me Thinks The Lady Doth Ponder Tooooo Much

Mmmmm, tis a beautiful morn at The Pond. Clear sky yet the sun is soft, cool breeze, chickadeedeedeedees family out and about, just a perfect morn. Three cups of tea and I'm ready to take on the day. Well, tea and sleeping for 6 hours uninterrupted! Woooo hooooooooo.

The froggies are active this morn. Frogue being the oldest shares his throne with a few of the wee ones who've made The Pond their home. The throne being a piece of black granite along one side. Seems to me they like sitting high, perhaps the better to survey their surroundings. The tiniest one, no bigger then a toonie seems to enjoy playing Hide N Seek and isn't quite sure of this human. I've named him Fred after an ole schoolmate who was always the smallest. So small he was often locked in the cupboard under the sink. I digress.....

The nightly Grand Prix has ceased. I'm sure it's due to the rather wet summer. They no longer need to find a cool damp place to spend the day. Like clock work as dusk fell I would hear plop plop plop on the step and would watch. Out of the planters they would hop and race to the water. Heaven forebid if anything stood in their way. Mind you they wouldn't hop around. Nope, bang right into a chair leg, branch and even a human leg. They are on a mission and there are no detours!

They can be amusing to watch. Sitting around The Pond always facing inward as if on the look out for the great pond shark. Geeeez guys, no freshwater sharks in these here parts. Their stance gives them away. Just before they leap, sitting straight up with necks stretched to the max as if a basketball player with eyes on the net. That's when they jump up. Jumping into the water is another position. Actually no position, they just do it. Think of yourself as a munchkin running and jumping off the dock into the lake. Were you concerned with form? Do I hear Cannonbaaallllll?

Weather forecasting has never been easier. At the very hint of rain, Frogue begins his bwarhhh bwarhhh bwarhhh. His baritone voice alerting the neighbourhood to take cover. Very rarely have I heard his companions join in. Maybe they are too small, maybe they are in awe at his voice, or maybe they just haven't received the music sheets. That is something I shall ponder ;)

LOLZ

I just have to share a website. This is one I've tuned if that is the "net" word on a regular basis. I laugh, giggle, snort, and snicker. Now to enjoy the site one must read out loud, yes I say read out loud the verbage. No matter if you are alone. http://ihasahotdog.com/ with family or friends. Pronounciation, heheheehe, is that all that matters :D Be sure to review the various lolz along the top of the page. Enjoy !

Welcome Back Beacons In The Night

Thunderous skies with rolling grey clouds, rain shattering the pane of eve and I sat watching. Suddenly a wee light. These eyes focused not on the beacon but the surroundings. Again! the light. Ahhhhhh, I've been seeking you this sultry summer.

I smile so, to watch the dance of Fireflies. Memories of long ago as munchkins, seeking these magical creatures, following thru neighbours yards, over hedges, fences, seeking the magicians of the night.

Years ago I drove a long country road on a similiar sultry eve. The road was built up with ditches along each side. O my! I was transfixed that eve with thousands of natures beacons lighting me way. Picture yourself flying low over a city with every light on in every building. That is the vision.

Me heart sings watching their beacons in the night. Eyes riveted to their last location. Up, up, up, thru the trees they soar leaving earth, leaving their glimour with us. Twas a magical night.

Thru the Mist

Thru the mist I walked alone

Icy tendrils brushed past
searching for warmth
There is none this morn

Nocturnal creatures flying home
before dawns light
Swoosh about one in their land

Footsteps heard by no one
follow a well worn path
Down streets vacant of life

Full Thunder Moon
provides a beacon to the traveler
Thru the mist walking alone

To Mow or Not Mow, That is The Question.....

Actually not wanting to become one of "those" I choose too just in case the neighbours rallied against the field in an urban setting. Time and weather prevented me from giving it a good cut, that and having me lawn boy desert me :(.

The morn was clean and dry. Sun shining and birds singing their song. Little did they know I was soon to disrupt their chorus. Two machines I hate to hear are lawn mowers and the worstest, chain saws. Tis just the noise slashing the silence of a lovely day I abhor.

On to the mission. Borrowing a suped up mower, this is where I insert the arh arh arh most men speak of, I begin. Now the lawn is a tad large with more then usual the number of beds and trees which must be mowed around. This is definitely not a clean cut.

A must do is to walk the property. Branches are picked up, froggies are gently shifted to the safety of the beds and any small creatures, specifically bunnies are encouraged to find a new home toot le suite !

I start off with mower moving a third of along due to the ummm, height of the grass. That didn't last long. A pull of the string thingie and off it starts, again. Another attempt this time at a quarter. Yet another pull of the string thingie and I ponder as the mower decides to rest as this is just not the time.

Hhmmmmmmm, I have a job to do and by the haysus I'm going to do it! Sooooo, after a flashback to drafting class I thought AHA! Pulled that string thingie once again and this time raised the front to a 45 degree angle and moved 6 feet, set it down and pulled back 6 feet. Ooooooooooo, this just may work !

Mind you pulling on a 5 foot long string thingie with a 2 foot long arm doesn't exactly make you want to play a round of badminton afterwards. Get me drift. Just mowing the front and side took almost 2 hours. Up, walk, down, walk backwards which reminded me of a dance. Was it the cha cha cha?

The older gentlemen of the neighbourhood had a hoot watching. These men with no other tasks to do but watch this woman struggle with the string thingie, almost on her knees pushing the mower under tree boughs, untaggling the caught hair, all the while oooooooommmming. Yep they had a good day.

After the task was done, the prunners were oiled and a few trees trimmed. I'm still waiting for the men to ask " why didn't ya cut those limbs before ya started ".

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

Shuffling thru the bookshelves I came across an ole fave.

Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.

When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.

Then the traveler in the dark,
Thanks you for your tiny spark!
He could not see which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.

In the dark blue sky you keep,
And often through my curtains peep,
For you never shut your eye,
Till the sun is in the sky.

As your bright and tiny spark
Lights the traveler in the dark,
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

1806 by Jane Taylor

Did you know there were so many verses...

Ode to Oliver

1:32 a.m. the clock shows. I wake to a haunting melody drifting into my room. The sound of a sweet violin plays in the distance. I lie smiling, seeing him thru closed eyes standing alone in an abandoned monastery for the echoes sing, swaying as he plays so gleefully. My mind says hush, return to sleep for it is much to early to wake but I can not. I listen to my heart and savour this moment.
3:00 a.m. and still Monday, the worst day. I have remained awake listening for the violin to return. Alas the classics prevail. This just won’t do. Best to get up and at em. Log on to Radio Canada searching for their play list. The connection is slow this morn. Hhmmm, who in heavens name would be on-line at this hour? Giggling to myself, o yeah I wonder who.
5:00 a.m. Ahhh, an early start of another work week. This is better for my employer has high speed. The wave of the Internet provides smooth surfing. But still can’t find the play list.
10:00 a.m. Finally a break. Phone the 1-800 number and ask for ze French CBC. I explain my predicament to the woman. “Une momente, si’l vous plait” and I hear her footsteps cross the room. “Ello, madam, at 1:30 a.m. Oliver Schroer’s Camino played. Does dat elp ayou?” O my fine woman thank you so very much and have a wonderful day !
10:30 a.m. A quick Google (doesn’t everyone) of Oliver Schroer and up pops his website. Aha! There it is. Click, Add To Cart.
Ten minutes later confirmation received.
8:35 p.m. Tuesday, antsy I e-mail the website asking when o when will I be able to listen to his melodious violin again.
10:30 a.m. Wednesday, delivered into my anxious hands. I now rest easy.

A few months later I was privileged to attend his concert and shake his hand. A few months later he was diagnosed.

Oliver has left us. His message....."Don't look at what you don't have. Make sure your glass is half full, not half empty. This is a stance you take in life. It is not a random attitude. But with just a little bit of practice, that becomes an attitude you can easily stick to. Lets put it this way. If I can think like this in my present position, I would hope that you all can do the same. I would even ask you to do this for me. Take that stance in life for me and from me, and concentrate always on the positive."

Thank you Ministrel your music sings forever in me heart.

Arrrghhhh

I saw an advert today for Burberry shoes. Good heavens! High heels and socks ??? Folks this is just so wrong. HeHe's are meant to be worn barelegged or for those in the northern climate, a lovely taupe unless it's a funeral then basic black is de rigeur.

What is the point of wearing socks in high heels? I ask any man and woman. Though I prefer bare feets I would never ever never wear socks. Tis just so wrong !

Wrong as in wearing socks in sandals. That is one of the 20 sins. Why o why I asked a friend. Mind you Orm is an ole hippie and will be forever but his reply was thus.........Well wearing socks in sandals keeps the feet clean. EH???

Isn't that the point of sandals, to wiggle yer toes in the dirt and the air? Let those tootsies be free ! Wiggle to their hearts content, squish the mud underneath, dance til the blisters appear.

Arrrghhhh, a work day is near so I dream of shoving me toes into the shoes and toddling off...

Those weren't raindrops falling.............

The perfect summer eve drew me outside to sit and ponder. Relaxing in MY chair with a fine JP I heard a smack. I glanced around and saw nothing. Certainly not out of the ordinary at The Pond to hear something without a cause.

Nestling in, drifting off, there it was again only this time it hit one of the other chairs. I leaned over and saw this widdle nut. Smack ! smack ! OUUUUUCHIEEEEE. This time smack on me head.

Looking up I came face to face with one of those black furry creatures. He was sitting in the Walnut tree which overhangs the patio. The bugger. Having a wee of a feast he was.

The young nuts were being stripped bare by this bloody squirrel. Those he couldn't stuff into his cheeks came smacking down to the unsuspecting below. Fine I said, eat all you want.

Little does he know that unripened fruit leads to ummmm how shall I say quick trips. Then again do squirrels really shite in the woods? Hhhhmmmmmmmm

That'll Teach Em

I saw the darndest thing today.

The den windows were open wide and I heard nails against glass. Peering out and up I saw a young Blue Jay munching on what I thought was a moth. Now moths don't usually come out during the day so I looked closer.

Before I could get a better look, up Jay flew and out of site. Smack down he came landing on the window frame. Up again he went and down he soon came. I pondered and thought something was amiss so out I went.

Slowly I moved round the corner of the house and looked way up. In the gable was a tattered wasp nest with a few displaced wasps darting about. Aha! It wasn't a moth but a piece of the nest he had in his mouth.

Those wasps must have ticked Jay off so what better revenge then to tear apart their home.

I never know what's going to happen next at The Pond.

Me and Motown

Where do I begin with the love I have for Motown. The earliest reconcilation is from a cousin of a friend who spent her summers here. She was aghast at our listening habits. I think back and giggle. Uh Hunh, she wasn't subjected to Lawrence Welk or the Mighty Jubilee players. Thank heavens for her.

Once the summer faded I decided meself to find that sound. Poking a hole thru the window screen I adjusted the antennae just out and so praying the wee AM radio would find the waves. I wasn't let down.

It soon became a nightly mission. Once the lights went out on a Sunday night, up went the window and out went the antennae. I huddled on the floor tweeking the rod forever striving to find the waves. Once I did this soul danced.

The Four Tops, The Temptations, Smokkkkey, The Supremes, what voices, melodies they had. After all these years their music still brings a smile and an o yeah to this face. Theirs was the only music I played at the 45th Birthday party and I tell you I had the Supremes "Stop In The Name Of Love" moves down pact. Uh hunh, I am damn good, so good I bowled a few strikes, heheheheeeee.

Seriously, there is no genre that brings a smile to this face as Motown. The music is powerful, words are basic but so emotional, and the overall feeling is a woooo hoooooo. I could ponder on but if you have a chance to watch the Funk Brothers you know what I write of.

Life is good :D

Tickle Me is Home

Woooooooo hooooooooooooo !!! I am soooo happy! I found an ole friend today and brought it home. While touring the country side I stopped at a home nursery. Eden on earth with this funky house, huge pond and greenhouses and trial beds and good to go beds, and and and. Yes I was in heaven.

Wandering around which by the way I am most excellent at :D, I spotted this tiny plant tucked into a corner of the green house. Oooooo, can it be? could it be? is someone smiling down on me? YESSSSSSS!!! it tis ! The elusive Mimosa pudica me ole friend. Dawn looked me way wondering why the shout of glee over a funny plant. Ahhh she wasn't aware of its properties I sighed.

This wonderous plant is also known as the Sensitive Plant or the Tickle Me Plant. Born out of the tropics the light, frilly leaves and branches close and bend down to the slightest breeze or tickle. There is a very small lilac coloured bloom once it is happy in its environment. But o the fun of this plant! It resides on the patio table and is a constant reminder of gleeful gardening.

Folks who visit are encouraged to softly stroke the leaves, underside is preferred and to sit back and watch. The leaves fold, branches bend down to the ground til "danger" has passed. Then slowly life returns as if watching the growth of a plant movie in high speed. Many a child and adult afterall why should munchkins have all the fun, have been encouraged to "tickle" the Mimosa.

Hehehehehe, I am one happy person this day.

Serenity Now !

What is it with men and motors.....I ask you. Tis a balmy Friday eve and the hummmm, the rrrrrmmmm, of lawn mowers attack the calm summer breeze like those pesky squitos hone in on ones ankles. Friday night is a night of peace after the work week in my book. But oooo nooooooo the men of the neighbourhood just have to get out to outdo each other with decibal levels.

First off is me back neighbour, having fun with his new electric mower. Just once I'd like to see him mowing in the rain or ooopppsies run over the cord. Wouldn't that be a shocking end to his weekly runnings.

Next up is his neighbour, two yards down from me. Now he hasn't an electric mover just your average John Deere, built for speed but it somehow doesn't quite fit on his lot. Never the less he gives it all he has shifting into and out of gears and me ears still ache.

Across the street from them is the absolute horror, a mufferless mower! She has no excuse such as working during the day except on the golf course. Yep, she's one of the area's bestest. Why o why does she feel the need to run that annoying monster just as everyone is dining outside? If I won the lotto my first expense would be to buy her a mower with a fuggen muffler.

On the other side is a dear ole soul nearly 80 and putters about. Her son mows and of course without nothing better to do, starts up the old whacker. His is so loud he needs to wear earmuffs. Can you not do this in the morn when people are at work ? Mind you this is the same son who mows his own lawn 1/4" high then puts the water sprinkler on it during the sunniest part of the day. Me thinks I should have a wee chat with him.

As for me.............I'm getting a goat :D

I'm Being Followed By A Moonflower

Why o why do I sing the Cat Stevens song "I'm Being Followed By A Moonshadow" when I think of the Moonflowers? Dis I ponder. This year I potted two Moonflowers for the patio. I had one a few years ago and it grew a tad wild reaching 10' wound around a post. Happening upon them at a local nursery this year I just had to bring a few home.
Planted in full compost these are growing rapidly and blooming ever so nice. The name suits them. Huge white trumpet flowers open as the sun sets. Their fragrance sweetens the warm night air. As soleil wakes they fall asleep, resting til the eve. One might call them beacons for the froggies as they hop about when all else sleeps.

Annoyances

O the trials and tribulations of logging in. "your username and password aren't recognized" So I try again. Hhmmmmm, same thing. I run to the pot and grab the nailfile, thinking this may do it. Tis not easy typing in the dark on a wappie with a goblet by yerside :D, hehehehe. Clip clip snip snip, well now I see abit of blood on the keyboard. Me thinks I snipped toooo much. At least I've logged in. Whew! Now what do I write, hhmmmmm, ponderings come at a certain stage and I'm not dere yet. O what the hell, yes I am. Lets see annoyances come to mind. We all have them. Mine are few so I will share.

That phone call in the middle of dinner, “ Ahoy, I’m Captain Rick and I’m inviting you to sail the seven seas with me “ Of course there’s a bloody boat horn blasting in the background. For only $4500.00 I too can enjoy a cruise in the (pick one), Caribbean, Mediterranean, Alaska coast, etc etc etc. All I need to do is “press 1” and have ready my credit card number. Aha! Little does Captain Rick know I can’t press 1. So I calmly yell “stuff it out yer blowhole” and slam the phone up. Ahhh, dats bettah

Neighbours who insist on mowing their lawn at supper time every Saturday never mind that it hasn’t grown in months. Geeeeeeeez, come on will ya. Your other neighbours are trying to enjoy their meal outside without the drone of your mufflerless mower!

Drivers who insist on picking their noses in traffic. Gawd, someone is always watching so puhhhhleasssssssssssssse if you have the need to pick, DO NOT take a look at your findings. You won’t find gold.

Those stoooooopid kiddie shopping carts. Made for the younguns so they too can become mindless consumers just like their parents. The least the manufacturers could do is install a rubber bumper on the front to lessen the blows to unsuspecting shoppers ankles.

Minivan mums. Need I say more.

This Warm Spring Night

This warm Spring night I walk alone. It calms the mind. Rain gently falls not quite soaking the walker but hhmmmmm, shall I say, dampening her. I look up and allow drops to softly wash this face. The scent of lilacs sweeten the aire. Overpowering at times but o so welcomed this night. Even under the black veil, the whites glistening causes one to stop and breathe in their perfume. A brief reprieve from a hectic day.

A Spring Pondering

The sun, she shines so brightly
Swaddling the earth with her warmth.

Daffies frilly smiles of yellow, crème, peach
Cause all to glance and smile.

Violets, sweet violets with soft purple petals
Spread their joy throughout the beds.

Scillias as blue as the sky
Now spent, preparing for next springs dance.

Bumblebees large as loonies,
Call on colourful blooms with their spring greeting.

Fiddleheads slowly unfurl,
Ferns lazily reach to the sun.

Forget-Me-Nots, the most cheerful
Replenish memories of those never forgotten.

Purest of white flowers surrounded in lovers arms,
This Bloodroot bleeds red when disturbed.

Waterbugs skidder on The Pond
Their helter skelter movements disturb the reflection

Twolips sway in the breeze
Their colour brings life to my world.

Yes! Spring has sprung !

Saturday morn

Early Saturday morn is the only time to grocery shop. I've tried the Sunday morn thing but the store was full of Churchers picking up something to prepare for "brunch". Geeeeeeez, there is breakie and lunch, for if I don't have me breakie, well ummmmm, need I say more.

I pull into the lot and eye MY space right beside the cart return and park leaving a 3' lane. Easier to steer the cart along side to unload. Me mum didn't raise no dummy after all.

The retired couple in their green SUV pull up. Not a white streak on it as most vehicles have this time of year unless you visit Charlies CarWash faithfully. The Mrs. sits with sales sheets in hand. Mr. minds the cat. Yes, the cat. In warmer weather he "allows" it out of the SUV mind you in a harness for a walkie. At one time the furball was placed in a grocery cart and shopped with them. Now it remains outside.

Arriving next is Blondie, screeching her Jeep into a spot. Me thinks she's in health care working the night shift. She wears "those" shoes you know. Ever anxious she stares at the metal curtains not yet drawn open.

Mr. Shred-It pulls in parking his van 2 rows down. He's not fooling anyone. His cart is always laden with the 3 basic food groups, sweets, carbs and meat. Though he is sporting nice new runners so maybe there is hope for him.

Smilie cruises in off the highway. An older gentleman, me thinks a farmer. His two toned blue Plymouth glides silently into the number two spot. We have always passed in the aisles smiling at each other. I do know he loves his garlic. Once when I was squeezing bulbs, he paused, winked and said "that's the right stuff!" with eyes sparkling. I missed him in the Winter but he has returned.

Hockey practice must be over as a parade of minivans driven by mums trying to be everything to everyone but themselves arrive. Have I ever mentioned Minivan Mums are the worstest drivers? They drive those huge and cumbersome machines usually with a cell phone calling home to hubbie to check the pantry saying "we need soup right?". I ponder, give hubbie the list and let him shop for a change while mum sleeps in.

Depending on the time of year and of course the weather, come the cottagers. O those poor things. Magine to spend the summer at a home on a lake, without a worry 'cept did I pick up enough Coolers? Awwwww. Heaven forbide it should be raining, then you have the parents AND the munchkins in tow filling up the cart with munchies of every sort. Arriving at the checkout the parents while unloading, say "huh, where did all this come from?" and the kids smirk with an aww shucks look. Life is tough for the water rats.

Of course I could not not mention the dads. Holding hands with the light of their lives, their daughters, they talk constantly about every wee thing. Meanwhile the son is left to lag behind with his mind on everything but the task at hand. "BRAD! pick up the pace ! We have to be home in an hour!" Poor lad, tis the last thing he want to do on a Saturday morn.

Well, the metal curtains have been withdrawn by kids who don't know which way is up, the weekly provisions are bought and loaded. I ease out of MY space just because of the lane cut thru's and you know who you are and leave for home. Whew, til next week.

P.S. I didn't even mention the bane of all adults, the ankle bumper carts ;)

Faces

Faces, we all have one. A scar from a long ago ooopsies with a shattered window tis on me chin. Never felt a thing til I held the mitt to me face and withdrawing saw red and the expression on sissiepoos face. Racing inside I looked for the gleaming toaster and sighed at the site reflected. I will never forget the tugging of the thread and piercing of the needle while the good Doctor sewed me up.

O those wrinkles, begone! I say but I know they be a sign of life, living well. So many ads whisper to our vanity, though the models of "firm skin" are all of 18 if that. Hah! What do they know of toiling outside in the heat and sun. They never will for the warnings were never known in our time.

The lines under me eyes when I smile show I laugh from the heart. They are smiling lines not wrinkles. Wrinkles are a sign of frowning not singing besides who wants to be remembered by their impressions unless you won Queen of The Furrow at the County Faire or heavens, to look like Cher. Beautiful she is but there is no expression. Her face is dead, frozen in time.

Tis my belief eyes tell all. Sit still and gaze into the eyes of your loved one. After awhile do they not cast downward shyly and re-open with a sparkle? Laughter soon follows, with a knowing uh hunh. Makes one feel giddy it does.

They say to touch ones face is the most gentlest touch of all. Feel every line imagining the stories behind them, gently feeling the past, and to feel today, the future.

We all have faces, those we put on smiling when we're really pissed off not wanting to hurt another, those we have when in pain not wanting others to know and feel sorry, those we show just waiting for someone to say "yah but".

Duck !!!

Mmmmm, was a lovely morn, sipping tea on the patio gazing out over the early Spring fleurs. The neighbourhood was silent as no one had begun to stir. Ever tuned into the avian arrivals this time of year I creaked me neck hearing this one particular call. Looking up I followed their descent and landing into the ole maple.

I rubbed these eyes hoping to loosen the sleep that sometimes remains and looked again. Yep, ducks, I had ducks in the maple tree. A gorgeous pair of Mallards. He of course was vibrant in his colours and she, well, was wearing a rather drab feather coat. Who ever said females are clothes horses certainly haven't eyed their fashion in the animal world. Ughhhh

I watched with wonderment this pair holding on for dear life. As most know ducks have webbed feets making it a tad difficult to land on anything non-flat let alone tree branches. They sat or should I say stood and pondered at their plight. Feeling I could make this a "Kodak" moment I slowly slide out of me throne. Too late, they saw me and flew the coop so to say. Damn! who is going to believe me !!!

Relating the event to a co-worker who is a bit of a naturalist his response was "ok, what were you smoking!" Ehhhh? "ducks don't land in trees ya know". Well, I was incensed! "Uh Hunh, they may not in your neck of the woods but at The Pond, well it has its moments" was me response.

I was a bit saddened when they flew off as the thought of raising a brood of ducklings, errrr, THEY raising a brood of ducklings at The Pond would have been such a treat. Maybe next year they will stay awhile longer. Though I will say, I ain't dressing in camoflauge for no one, man nor beastie.

Sounds of Spring

Yes ! She arrived and not a moment too soon. The Winter was long and hard and truth be known I wasn't sure she would spring forth til July. The ole girl didn't let me down.

Ahhhh the sounds of Spring are a wonder to these ears. The first sign is the Geese flying in that o so familiar V pulling Spring back to the northern climate. I look up once hearing their call, smile and say "welcome back" for their return.

The spring peepers are out in full battalion. After all a group of frogs is called an army, go figger. Their gentle peeep peeeep peeeeeeep echoes from the river. The song soothes the soul and we know all is well.

The birds, o my, are busy grasping at grass, yarn, whatever would make good nest material. I hear the oooo ooooo oooo's of the doves, and after seeing them I know it isn't just their song. Naughty, naughty birdies.

Munchkins are out bouncing basketballs and those diehard hockey fans smacking the sticks on the road way past lights out. The sound isn't deadened by the feet of white shite nor the shut windows.

Neighbours take the time to speak to one another not wrapped up in so much wool making chat an effort. Not to mention the mind numbing cold which caused us to give a quick nod and rush to the warmth of the home.

Early morn walkies are shared with Robins waking and singing "good morn" to all who pass by before the dawn.

Ahhhhhh, the sounds of Spring makes one believe there is life after all......

Where Are You ???

O dear Spring where are you? I miss you. Ole man Winter has been harsh and holds on. His bloody white shite remains 7' high at the front of me home and is sure to be there into June. The suns rays slowing melt the latest snow but o so much ice remains.

I tire of this dreary landscape Spring. The whiteness blinds all causing downcast eyes with barely a glance up when greeted with a hello. Sigh.

I want, I need to feel the warm earth under me feet, to splash in the puddles, to uncover the tiny green sprigs of the world awakening. To slowly pull back wet worn leaves and find tiny tips of twolips, daffies, crocusi is one of the purest joys I know. For this is life, Spring!

I rest assured the froggies are fast asleep under a 4' cover of snow. Though I ponder will they be stirring soon? Early April The Pond is drained reviving them for the year though this year I fear not. I already miss them and their hijinks, the call of the springpeepers assuring all is well.

Already the Robins have returned warbling your return. Spring, do come soon...

White Shite

What a Winter it has been. Record snowfall one day then rain then freezing temps all in a week. Mother Nature is pizzed.
This brings me to the subject of snow or unfondly refered to as "white shite".
Looking out the window today I saw a mix, flurries, sugar snow and fluffies. There are so many types of snow who would have thunk.
Me faves are the fluffies very similiar to sugar snow but the fluffies fall all thru out the season. Huge, white, multi layered in formation. As a child I would stand with mouth wide open, eyes wide shut and tongue stuck out waiting for their landing. Truth be known, to this day I revert to childhood stopping the shovelling to bask in the moment.
Flurries are an ugly snow. The air is white with the tiny flakes, hardley a bother but can and do amount to a significant dump as it's called here. They fall as the tide ebbs and flows
Mmmmmm sugar snow. That is the fluffy which falls this time of year. A harbinger to Spring and maple sylurp time. One rejoices knowing Spring isn't far away.

So That's Where It Went

The snow covered ground was their perfect playground. Even better was The Pond now encased in layers of frozen water. Each layer a different hue. Each layer contained remnants of frostbitten leaves. Each layer filled with bubbles largest on the bottom growing smaller as the surface neared.

Out of the darkness shrieks from tiny mouths could be heard over the pond. The full moon shed light on wee creatures stumbling down from the warmth of the ole Maple. These weren’t your average creatures of the night for these had two legs not four, and were dressed in feathers and furballs warding off the bitter cold. Three wee creatures, out for a night of frolicking.

Settling down across The Pond I wrap me face in the thick scarf so this frosty breath won’t be seen, leaving only slits for the eyes. Eyes wide with wonderment as I gaze on this site and await for the magic to begin !

Two of the wee ones dragged a spider web wrapped bag. Tis a tad heavy for even I can hear their grunts and groans. Onto the ice they slide. Deciding on a spot under the Acacia where the ice is clear the bag is unwrapped. The biggest of the three though they aren’t that tall, 4” high if an inch, grapple this tool newly unwrapped.

The two smaller ones and being the workers of the three wrestled for a bit each taking hold of the wooden ends propping up this thingie on its point. The third, obviously the leader designated so with the white owl feather in his furry cap shouts out “ up, up, hold er straight !”

Moaning under its weight the two slide back then fore trying to get its pointy end to take hold in the ice. “yes! Lads ye ave it !” “keep it straight now” dancing with glee the third one sings. “now remember the jig we learned from our grandfather?” “ swing around, swing around, swing around thee“

With the third keeping beat the two danced round and round twisting the tool into the ice. This was easy once they found the rhythm.

Not a moment too soon, the tool broke thru and water spewed forth. Shaking off the droplets the two pulled the tool out. The third drew from his sack threads of wool with olive thorns tied to each end. Down the hole these threads were dropped.

Giggling and nudging each other all three shared smirks and smiles. This will be a good night of ice fishing thanks to our human friend who left the uncorker behind.

AHA! I thought to meself. My long lost corkscrew has found a new use.

Ponderers of The World Unite

I see Google has added another feature under "other". One can click and view the dropdown thingie and see Blogs. After finding this I typed ponderings. Like O mah gawd, as me dear niece would say though I often pondered why cause she certainly wasn't born in California though she may be classed as a Valley Girl, this is a brave new world ! Wowzers, was I smug pondering I was the only one who in fact pondered? Nah, I'm not dat stoooopid. It did bring a smile to me face knowing there are others on this planet though I sometimes ponder what planet some really reside on.
Pondering, mmmm, I love that word. For me it was born out of The Pond where I sit for hours and just ponder. The word pondering loosely translated means "To weigh in the mind with thoroughness and care". Well, ummm, in my case that's mostly correct though I wouldn't actually say what to make for dinner is a "pondering".
I ponder life, love, friends, family, you name it and I've pondered it. Even my employer has grown use to me saying "yes, I will ponder that and get back to you". They know better then to mess with a professional ponderer.
Who reads these ponderings? Most are people like moi surfing and Googling during downtime enjoying reading other who ponder and knowing one is never alone on this cyber expressway.
Merci Google. Ponder on dudes and dudettes !

Seeing It's Friday

Many years ago I administered donations for me employer, mostly gift baskets filled with wonderous scented soaps, lotions and potions. A local affair requested one be filled for a weekend do. Having created the basket I set about finding the requestee. And here the story begins.
I phoned the contact but "seeing it's Friday" she had the day off. "Do you have her home phone number" I asked. After ringing and ringing I phoned the shoppe again.
Well "seeing it's Friday" her hubby should be home however he may be out haying as it was that time of year, the weather had been perfect and it was, well, ummm Friday. No answer from hubby.
Ringing the local Municipal Hall I found out the hubby may have gone to town "seeing it's Friday". Yes, everyone here knows everyones business. Knowing a few of the locals I phoned the Beer Store as Mike knows everything and everyone. What did I say about local living.
Hhmmm, "seeing it's Friday, Mike is working in the other town". Okies, I took a few minutes off the phone to sit back and laugh.
Contacting Mike in the other town and after explaining me problem he said "seeing it's Friday" Cecil will be at the local boot shop gabbing with the lads.
A thank you and a quick dial I was informed "seeing it's Friday" Cecil should have been here but it's a good day to hay and he was here yesterday.
Arrrghhhhhh, I said bugger dis as I was on a time line and The Pond was calling so rang the shoppe again. His wifiepoo was there for a visit and I explained the last 45 minutes of me life. She laughed, I laughed and the basket was finally picked up.
So "seeing it's Friday" I shall relax and laugh too :)
P.S. we never did find out where Cecil was that "seeing it's Friday"