Bandits at five-o-clock!

Yesterday we had a visit.Someone came knocking on the kitchen door.The female neighbourhood raccoon came by with her four almost fully grown kits.They came to look in on Morgan.“Look Morgan, one is touching your bowl.”“Look Morgan, one is standing on your basket.”“Where are you Morgan, can you come play?”Morgan was not impressed.And sent them on their way with a couple good hisses.

This is a good one...er...two, Vibrant and Silhouette

Ever want to challenge yourself?I bet you do. I bet you're just like me.These Friday challenges are so much more fun to combine than to do individually. Hmmm, Vibrant from Photo Friday and Silhouette from the Wordpress Weekly Photo Challenge.Vibrant Silhouette...what do you think?Makes me smile... :) ...see?

Finally got a quiet moment to write some poetry inspired by the rain and last Sunday's Whirl!

Those Sunday Whirl words are becoming a really big part of my life. I got the words on Saturday and it’s taken me to Thursday evening to write a poem! (Oh Brenda, you do put up with me!)These hectic days, I really have to look hard to find a quiet hour to dedicate to poetry and it helps so much to have the dozen words as a starting point.Actually, I must tell you that I usually read the words out blindly on Saturday to C and R and ask them what the first thing is they think of and go with that, but today I’ve been feeling guilty for not getting round to writing my memoir for Jane Ann’s challenge (oh Jane Ann, you put up with me too) and, having that and the words on my mind, the poem has become a life of its own; a sort of memoir/whirl/free verse which I really love.So, here we go:umbrella, deeper, inherit, excuses, stand, become, thunder, childhood, joined, vowed, shifts, lightThey say it rains here all the time, it just keeps rainingPeople drift past protected by their umbrellasDrift past faceless and solitary down the desolate rain-filled streetsIt’s best to carry an umbrella they say, that’s how it must beI do own an umbrella which I keep in an old iron stand in the corner of the front hall closetIt shares the stand with my aunt’s cane and a dull rapier.The door stays closed and the umbrella stays there.I never think to use it. I never do.It’s something I took from my father’s things after he died.I think I took it to hang on to for some protection after I didn’t have him anymore.Some people might think it’s strange to inherit an umbrella.But to me it feels right to have it.It’s black and has a smooth, curved wooden handle and closes with a little shell button.It’s a bit rickety with age and the metal frame has become rusty in places.The handle is joined to the shaft by a brass ring which is turning green.Someone said that is the fate of brass if it gets wet.I opened it and stood under it after my father died.I remembered standing under that umbrella in childhood.I stood beside him in the thunder and lightning and the always rain here.It used to be so much bigger.Now I stand in the rain without my father’s umbrellaI know there’s nothing deeper than the melancholy music of the rain on an umbrellaBut I’m not sure I ever vowed not to use itIt’s easy to find excuses for forgettingEventually the rain shifts up the mountain that is holding it over the cityA brighter light will shine on the desolate rain soaked streetsAnd people will fold their umbrellas and show their faces and carry their protection in their handsAnd the memories will fade a little with the rain

The orange light of autumn is the best light for naps

I've decided that there's something magical about orange light.Just ask Isla...when she wakes up.Somehow, when sunlight filters thru autumn leaves it gets that orange quality which lulls you to sleep.Maybe it's just my fancy, but I really believe it's different.Calming, sleepy, serene, quiet.Shhh, you know you want to close your eyes too. :)

Nice surprises all round and a little tear in the fabric

Kerstie texted to say she will come visit with Binky and Isla tomorrow. How nice.Last time K was here she made this beautiful driftwood sign.This is life with two babies under three.Still we do the best we can with warm milk, bedtime stories and cuddles in soft quilts.That must help, don’t you think?It stopped raining this morning and that gave me the chance to air the quilts out on the line.Here’s the thing with the vintage things around here, especially beautiful soft quilts ...they’re well loved.Today I noticed a little tear in the top layer of fabric of this soft, blue one.I’m not sure what to do about this. Maybe a bit of vintage fabric? As a patch or as an appliqué flower? I’d have to learn to appliqué but how hard can that be? What do you think?

Well then, here's the good old West Coast weather we know and love

Here it comes...a solid week of rainDon't talk to Morgan, she hates every thing and every one when it rains.Puddles everywhere, even in the parks.Nothing to do but head to the nearest lovely warm spot and watch the rain come down.

Big Movement...Photo Friday and the Wordpress Photo Challenge

So, by now you mostly know I bend the rules as I go along!Hey, my blog...lolPhoto Friday offered Movement this week and the Wordpress Weekly Photo Challenge offered Big.I'm offering mergansers moving thru some big reflections. (Although I do love that photo of the...um...giant sausage by Sara Rosso...go Sara!)

Horse Chestnuts and the magic of Autumn

Horse chestnuts, the bitter chestnuts, the pagan magic tonic chestnut. The poisonous one, the narcotic one.Why can’t I keep away from them? Bet you can’t either.Isn’t it satisfying to find these big, fat fruits and hold them in your hand? Don’t you want to gather them up and take them home just to own their rich, brunette beauty for as long as possible?It’s true love, I’m afraid, and, as we all know, true love lasts forever.Prized by small school boys as weapons in the game of conkers, kept on windowsills to keep away spiders (you reading this Jeannine), stored with the linen to prevent moths, taken as a sleeping tonic, (often with disastrous results) and gaily exploded in bonfires.As Pertuhcio said,And do you tell me of a woman's tongueThat gives not half so great a blow to hearAs will a Chestnut in farmer's fire?--- Taming of the Shrew, act i, sc. 2 (208).For me though, the magic is rooted in my childhood. In my chestnut hair, in my grandfather’s willingness to part with his matches...yet again...for the sake of huge herds of chestnut deer, who stand on my windowsill every Autumn, silent and proud on their matchstick legs.

Of August 20-21, 1968. Memories come

At the seaVacation at the seaTo the sea we go wrapped up with love and family and splashy, splashy fun.Warm August happiness in the German sea....Next morning...panic.We children were protected.Things are fine, they said.A Czech convoy out of Germany under armed guard.Panicked, sleepy drivers, up all night. Mom at the wheel overtook. Honked.Detained by the guards. Warned to cooperate. Put at the front of the line.Czech border at night. Russian soldiers. Machine guns. Soldiers standing in a row.Green soldiers with guns. Machine guns pointing.Guns.In the back seat babi put my head in her lap and covered me with her coat.If they start shooting, will the coat protect me?Warm hands. Wrinkles in the shape of stars.Terror. Apprehension. Questions. Fears.Home.Huge hole in the wall of the Great Museum.Tanks. Shouting. So much shouting.So much silence.Rosy cheeks turned ash. All the colour drained.Written for Jane Ann's memoir challenge

Veronica and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Boy oh boy, one of THOSE days. You know, when everything that can go wrong...and little things which annoy one are suddenly freak-out-horrible? Yup, Tuesday Oct. 9, 2012.Made me wish for last Sunday when C and I didn't have a care in the world, stayed in out jammies till late, played with the cats, had one of those lovely restful days.So I got to work. Work, creative work, always makes things better for me, but today it didn't come easily. The painting wasn't coming along and the photography felt forced too. Forced creative work never works out for me. Do you find that to be true too? Like it has to be felt and has to be completely embraced by the creative heart.So I did some yard work and took the recycling containers in from the back lane. My across-the-back-lane neighbour Louise said hello and we had a lovely little chat and a little tour of my garden, and then back to try for more work.Later, I found the most spectacular bunch of dahlias on my patio table. Louise had picked them as a thank you for my garden tour. (I should add she has the most spectacular dahlias I've seen. It's like a brilliant dahlia jungle in her garden.) And, would you believe, these deep burgundy ones are my absolute favorite!Isn't that so wonderfully caring and lovely? How lucky am I to have such a sweet neighbour?Thank you Louise, that was the one bright spot in my difficult day.That was the universe saying, "Look V, you might have had a lot of muck thrown at you today, but wipe it off girl, there's sunshine here too."