Ugging thru The White Shite

Those who live in the Northern climes know all about boots, snow boots, warm boots, comfy boots. Anything to keep the tootsies warm and dry yet provides safe walking. At last, thru trial and error I have found me oooooooooommmm boots. The best description is “uggs” but uggie they are not.

O my gawd ! Imagining the joy of walking barefoot thru the white shite, protected from the cold! Can I say devine? I’ve searched for these soles for years and just when they become unfashionable, they reach me. Note to self: read Vogue oftener. Actually, I saw them and pondered, they good for the snow bunnies but the price? Fast forward.

Well! Wandering thru the local shoe shoppe one day I spied, dare I admit it, a knock off. Bugger the original, and I walked out of the shoppe with me new uggs. After all what does an Aussie company know about making snow boots, I ask ya June :).

Few days later off I went to me bro’s in the bush. Ready to tromp thru the woods secure me feet would meld to the path. Exiting the car, I swore I said “Houston we have a problem” as both feet slid apart and found meself looking like Thumper with his first experience on ice. Okies, these obviously need some work.

Being a retired Girl Guide I had a back up bootie. Ahhh Sorels! Good for -40C with socks and as I don’t care to wear socks no matter the season, I was assured they would suffice. Tis like walking with bricks bound to your feet. Mind you the scars are still on me ankles. Seems the joiner didn’t do so good a job and left a few, shall I say bumps. The hammer took care of those.

I pondered the work to be done on me uggs so set about the task. Old sheet spread on the floor, me as well, Dremel at the ready with a new grinder attachment, and the refurbishment began. Obviously the designer of the treads was more into design then into function. I soon fixed that.

An hour later and me uggs had more canals every which way then imaginable. Much more better to grasp the white shite and ice with. Not the sexist booties but one must keep them selves warm in this clime. Besides, me tootsies are happy and warm. And comfy walking is a “good thing” as Miss Martha would say.

Winters Yin & Yang at The Pond

Blanketed yet deeply frozen
Serene yet cold harshness
Light yet void of colour
Refreshing yet stagnant of life
Calm yet struggles this season

One Lone Dove

One lone dove
his love long lost
huddled on the bench
sheltered from the wind
seeking solace
from the cold.

While I watch
one eye peers
back at me
as his head tilts
staring, thinking
will she disturb my roost?

Curtain falls
leaving him be
with his thoughts
of his lost love
and why he braves
his life alone.

I've Missed You Jack

I’ve missed you Jack,
and your nightly visits
when air is crisp
and cold assaults us.

I’ve missed you Jack,
leaving your bouquets
of leaves and petals
on window panes.

I’ve missed you Jack,
youth spent searching
for your presence
in morning light.

I’ve missed you Jack,
crystalline paintings
shielding us from
the days harshness.

I’ve missed you Jack,
giving us space
to sign our names
with chilled fingertips.

I’ve missed you Jack,
insulation preventing
you artistic license, till now
Welcome home Jack Frost,

Le Ice Full Moon

Evening sky the hue of baby’s skin,
slowly turned to a shade of blue grey
yet twas gentle on the eyes.

The moon rose quickly, nearly full
though clouds swirled attempting
to veil its lunar beauty.

Crème in colour, its outline fading
swept by a brush fading into the night sky
as it subdued the moon.

Crisscrossed silver threads,
surrounded in a barbed softness
binding one so tightly.

Is it bound, struggling to break free
from the grasp of mere clouds
easily torn and shredded?

Or is it merely stretching, preparing
for its glowing arrival
to shine upon us on the morrow.


January 11 brings us the Ice Full Moon. Rather fitting in this bone chilling cold, as it makes its presence known when snow crunches under each step. It is the largest of the full moons this year and I for one will be waiting and watching even if it’s just to wave at that man in the moon .....

What can ya do

Bart: Did you hear that?

Boof: Tink so, the screen door slam?

Bart: Yes, she’s out !

Boof: Race ya !

Bart: Wait one minute, I’m senior!

Boof: No seniority in the nest bro.

Bart: Just cause Mum liked you best gives you no right.

Boof: Eat seeds bro ! I’m off !!!

Bart: Oh Oh, she’s still out.

Boof: What she doing ? Your tail blocks my view.

Bart: She’s got the shovel.

Boof: Time to trim the tail bro.

Bart: Hey it keeps me warm !

Boof: And it’s in my way !!!

Bart: Move to another branch.

Boof: No way! You’ll get hit by snowballs before me.

Bart: Want me to wave at her for you, do ya ?

Boof: Sshhhhhh, she’s looking at us.

Bart: Make like we’re grooming each other.

Boof: Paws off bro !

Bart: Wait, where did she go ?

Boof: She’s gone in, go !

Bart: Not so fast, I didn’t hear the chchchchch did you ?

Boof: Too much snow in my ears bro but I smell something.

Bart: HA HA, she filled it !!!

Boof: Mine Mine Mine

And so another day begins at The Pond as the Black Beady Eyed furballs dine on the bird seed. Sheeeshhhhh what can ya do

Ode to The Seedling

Last Winter
as the winds danced
you took wings
waltzing with snowflakes.

I watched you
take root
grounding yourself
in cracked asphalt.

You settled,
burrowing til
warm Spring rain
gave you strength.

Ever careful
I parked close
for your protection
yet giving you space.

Last Summer
your tenacity was
as brilliant as
your coat of green.

Gently I raked
leaves from you
never wanting
to harm your youth.

Now shriveled,
purple and grey
from the cold of Winter
you stand alone.

This Spring
I shall dig you out
pamper you, revive you
to thrive unhindered.