Saturday, March 22, 2014

Music ...

Sometimes a song follows us around and haunts us a little. This song by Of Monsters and Men from Iceland, is one of those. The first two times I heard it i was driving and forgot to later look it up on the radio station's website. Yesterday as i climbed into the car I was actually thinking about this song and wondering how i could track it down as i'd heard it as part of a long set both times before, and I didn't know the band's name. As i turned the key and the car started up, it came on the radio. Just like that. I love synchronicity.

The video is sad but it's a beautiful song. It's not new, the album was released in 2012. But it's new for me, so i just wanted to share it.


Thursday, March 20, 2014

Lost ...

The landscape is burnt orange and brown
Trees black and glistening-wet after rain.
Misty morning and the road winds
up and down hills.

If i could keep driving where would i go.
Would the road take me to where my 
other life waits ?

The feeling of lost is nothing new,
It's been the shadow tugging at my heels all along.
It nips at me when i sit down to rest,
It tells me things I don't want to hear ...

Like that i didn't do enough, 
and that i missed all my chances.
That i wasted my time and made selfish choices.
That i lost my path along the way
And now it's too late to find  my way back.

I listened to the wrong voices more than once,
and ran when i got scared or confused.
Decisions made in fear instead of with courage
Now i'm haunted by the emptiness.

When i was young and feeling lost
I searched for a bar to lose my senses.
In numbness i could crash and forget for a while. 
Loud music on a dark dance floor,
Storming angrily.

Feeling lost it's easy to fall into the wrong bed, 
To go looking for answers in all the wrong places.
It can be hard to stay calm and to go through the
motions when it feels like something more drastic is called for.

I learnt long ago in that faraway place that madness is a 
just a way of sinking into the lost, of letting go 
rather than carrying on the fight.
I understand, that wanting to sink into nothingness.
It's a way out that doesn't hurt as much.

Nowadays storming doesn't help much, 
and there are no bars and no wrong beds.
There are no lovesick poems for distraction,
No dreams of a new life ahead.

Only the burnt wet landscape and the same routines.
And me wondering what to do with my shadows.


Friday, March 14, 2014

Dear Tree ...

Dear Tree ...

We only knew you for a little over 8 months but you were the first thing we saw out of our window every morning. First you were summer-green and leafy, then you dressed in golden colors for Fall. And then winter arrived and stripped you bare and covered your base in ice and snow. The long cold weeks took their toll and the melting snow uncovered the cracking and rotting which made you even more dangerous than your height or the fact that you grew so close to our house, or that you had split yourself into four long stems, all of which made you very likely to topple in a high wind. But four like the number of our family.

You've stood here for years, before this house was built. You watched another family grow their boys from small to big, watched them leave the house to marry and move across the country. Watched their parents grow old and love this house and eventually have to say goodbye. Watched a new family move in. A family who had waited a long time to have a home. A family with noise and energy and lots of running and laughter. Two little ones who loved your shade for the slippery-slide on a hot summer day. A man who fell in love with the house mainly because of you standing beside it.

Today we said goodbye to your beautiful big branches and watched you slowly falling, piece by piece. They were gentle with you, the tree service men. They took their time as they climbed you, and secured each piece of you as it came down. We watched in silence from the house, and felt the sadness weighing. It's quite a responsibility to decide the fate of another living thing, to bring you down before nature was quite done. I wonder how people live with cutting down entire rainforests.

Last night I had a dream. I was walking in a sunny forest and it was home, South Africa. But then all of a sudden you were there in my dream, a clearing with light flooding in. There you stood, dear Tree, and i walked up to you and touched your bark and we talked about what today would bring. I told you how sad i was to have to do this, but that i have to put the safety of the little people in my house over and above your beauty. And in my dream you quietly told me you understood. It was a lovely dream dear Tree.

Tonight as your branches lie in pieces stacked a little violently across the lawn, and a huge pile of woodchips from your branches lies waiting to be moved, just remember that you will live on in a new vegetable garden, and in the woodland carpet of a fairy garden-playplace we'll be building for our little princess when the snow melts.


Tuesday, March 11, 2014

On happy days and eating cake ...

Today I am grateful for a 9 year-old who baked brownies for his mom's special day. All by himself.
For my mom's milk-tart recipe which my husband made for my birthday cake. And which just had to be eaten for breakfast. Because that's how we roll in this house.
For my 4 year-old reciting the entire book of Madeline to me at bedtime. Including words like 'solemnly' and 'distressed'. Off by heart.
For handwritten cards and little ones carefully choosing earrings and a heart-shaped locket to give, for a magazine and a book just waiting to be read.

I am grateful for an early dinner and a beautiful birthday cake on the weekend.
For being so spoilt by a friend over birthday-morning coffee ... for her knowing just excatly what i needed today (and always). 
For a playdate where everyone laughed and cake was eaten and catching up was done.
For husbands who leave work early even when it's really hard, to be home in time for dinner. For not having to cook.

For Facebook and email and the phone, which allow messages to be sent immediately across the distances, and letting me stay in touch even though I am far away. I often think of how it was long ago when mail had to come on a ship and took many many months. How did my family manage that, the ones who said goodbye to their son when he left for life in Africa generations ago. When they couldn't pick up the phone or send a photo via email, and a letter took a lifetime to arrive and by then the news was months out of date. I can't imagine.
So today i am grateful for all my friends and family and for all the lovely birthday messages. Thank you.

I am grateful for the most gorgeous weather we have had in months. In spite of the snow still on the ground (and more due tomorrow night), today before a swimming lesson, we had our first playground playtime this year. We even took off our coats. Outside the snow is melting and we drove home with windows down. Stepping out, Baby.

I am grateful for daffodils bursting into bloom and reminding me that spring is just around the corner. For sun streaming into the house today. For basketball that could be played outside.

I am grateful for 4 year olds who love the movie 'Frozen' as much as I do, so much that we had to buy the soundtrack and now listen to it over and over in the car on the way to and from pre-school, both of us singing at the top of our voices. We know almost all the words. It is a perfect birthday soundtrack.

It was a good birthday today. And for that, i am grateful.


Monday, March 3, 2014

Store Windows ...

A few windows of late ... I am looking forward to being able to put up a Spring one soon and hope the weather will play along !


                                        Winter Holiday ...

                                          Wedding ...

                                              Valentines ...

The Bakery turns 3 ...