Friday, August 31, 2007

summer slow-dances out of sight

the first of the traitorous aspen leaves are changing color. summer is dying. she expires with such generous dignity that we don't even really notice at first. too busy with the berries and apples and vegetables, the hives full of her clear, shining amber honey and the earth under foot bulging and lumpy with her bounty of root crops.... the grain fields golden in the softening light with her gathered and stored brilliance. summer is so unselfishly giving... i wish winter would take lessons from her.

but the back to school swarm has been on for weeks already @ the local stores. i'll be taking one of the youngest sons to his new digs @ univerisity for his second year of engineering, in just one sleep. (when he was younger he would have asked if that includes naps) he's never lived away from one parent or the other before, so very excited. and he loves to learn, so the whole academic lifestyle fits him like a favorite old t-shirt. his elder sister's farewell gift is, in fact, a t-shirt, bearing a photo of a dirigible, and the caption "my other car is a blimp". he's been designing and building his own blimp all summer, and loves the shirt.

and life goes on.... the little renovated church house where he grew up has been sold, and the 'new' place has only 2 rooms left in need of renovation.... a winter project, i think. a young couple from BC has bought the church. i hope they have children and it's filled with giggles and cuddles and noisy play before long, and the old Manitoba Maples in the yard are climbed on again, and hammocks hung from them on sultry summer days. the neighbor tells me the new folks are asking a lot of questions about what's growing in the yard, so there's hope that they're gardeners, and will enjoy and appreciate the fruits of my labors.

so, when they do take possession, in early november, i'll have money for that harp of my own, and a good slr digital camera, and even a kayak. and i'll pay off the mortgage on the 'new' house, and even have something left to tuck into an RRSP... something that was an impossible luxury when i was a single mum. and i'll be completely debt free...

free in other ways as well... ways one doesn't expect to have mixed feelings about when the days are a blur of responsibilies and appointments and school trips and bills unpaid and meals to prepare and dishes/clothes/rooms that need cleaning. it's one of the reasons i had to sell the other house, this empty nest thing. it's so much worse, i think, when the nest really is empty... not even another parent bird to share it with. no one to transfer all that care onto.

i've even considered getting a dog (despite the obvious deterrent... i'm allergic to furry things).... but it seems just too selfish and hypocritical to get a pet to keep one company, then leave it alone all day while i go to work.

Thursday, August 02, 2007

shel silverstein

When you spit from the twenty-sixth floor
And if floats on the breeze to the ground
Does it fall upon hats
Or on white persian cats
Or on heads, with a pitty-pat sound?

Oh, I used to think life was a bore
But I don't feel that way any more
As count up the hits,
As I smile as I sit,
As I spit from the twenty-sixth floor.

~ Shel SilversteinWhere the Sidewalk Ends

i used to read Shel Silverstein to my kids... we all loved him. sort of a poetic Robert Munsch. had forgotten about him, till i came across him, with a lovely illustration, on French Toast Girl's blog. she posts her very lovley drawings and paintings. well worth dropping by.