|
The Journal of Maureen Glaude Place and People Love
07/09/2004 01:35 p.m.
this place
queen of
cherished landscapes
to my soul
gift of a long hegira
and host of eternal return
meditative elysium
where I find God closest
rugged beauty
constant
no matter what
in my life isn't
would this setting still prove magical
for me without
the people
I have loved?
Will love, still love?
be loved by, to some or all degree?
People I have been walking
years or days with, here and there,
new characters of my story, I will hope to
to learn to walk with,
sans this beloved landscape
are they enough?
And what significance could
her charms hold for me
without their voices, touches, scents?
their eyes looking outward with mine
upon her miracles?
A wasted breathtaking scene, unshared?
Might I walk strong
savour and drink of all
these components of my life
if restricted to only the one
without the other?
Could there still be
the beauty and hope, excitement and peace
of place, discovered and rediscovered?
Or haunted by the times it was theirs too,with me?
Might I continue to strive for
rapport and common dreams
with people
and pure, simple love
without the sanctity and homeground
or pioneer treading of
my places?
I am currently Calm
I am listening to cars passing by below
Comments (0)
Back to Back Spectacles
07/01/2004 01:00 p.m.
coloured outburst booms
and squeals across the sky
laughing parties
out late on decks and patios
beneath the full moon, brilliant
in celebration of Canada
last night
transformed into
nature’s reply at dawn
her own booms, lights
and chatter
of rain to
wake us up
Comments (0)
The small of the back
06/30/2004 05:40 p.m.
What is about the small of a woman's back, when a special man crosses the crowded dance floor to pass behind and pause to discreetly press her there? Without saying a word, giving only that smile to accompany the gesture. Giving and receiving back so much communication, without a single word. An act and feeling remembered forever. When it's a reserved man, it says even more. It's got to be the most powerful signal, not to mention the sexiest one, that we women love (or most of us I believe, based on conversations with other women). Goosebumps for small (but large) miracle moments.
Comments (0)
Issues before Tissues
06/29/2004 01:05 p.m.
Having read a few references to this with different couples, I think about this subject when I'm cleaning the toilet. For men and women who live together and grapple over how the toilet lid is left when not in use, down or up, to me the solution is simple. Whoever cleans the toilet the most often (or in some cases, every time) should get their druthers. Of course, the other person has to train their brain to remember.
To me, though it can be a little annoying, and I might gripe, or yell if I forget to check and get a cold surprise, when I land, I'm even more annoyed if I start to suspect I'm the only one cleaning it. Or the chief toilet bowl washer. (Now how about the spin of the toilet paper roll, do you hang it over or under? To me, if those are your big issues, wait til life gets really heavy. We could probably make a chapbook on toilet controversies, like soft cushiony seat, a bit warmer, (which I want but hubby doesn't) versus hard and cold? And what about the colourful plush covers you can get, if your hubby will put up with them? They do slide a bit. It goes on and on, and all from one little room (or two, in this house). To think, when we camp, it's outhouses or a walk to the comfort station.
On another note, I'm so proud of my mom. At 85, and not very strong physically now, she was determined to get out and vote last night in our federal election, and happy that we took her in the car with us for her exercise of her right. She was beaming after she voted. Every day she listens to the local radio talk show of Lowell Green, as well as other shows at night across the country, and she is often stirred up on an issue when I arrive to see her each morning.
I'm not pleased with how the election went, especially overall in my town, but I did my part to have a voice. So did Mom. I am currently Blessed
I am listening to soft rock
Comments (0)
I hit l000
06/23/2004 01:24 p.m.
Just hit l000 comments! Not a vast number compared to some on here, but it looks like a gold mine to me. Thanks, that last commentor, and all those prior.
Comments (3)
Happy Dad's Day
06/20/2004 04:36 p.m.
To all the fathers out there, and all those we miss now living on another plane of existence, thank you for what you do and have done, and blessings. I am currently Bemused
I am listening to The Lord of the Rings movie waiting for me to get back
Comments (0)
A fine evening
06/18/2004 12:07 p.m.
When my daughter Valerie returned last night from Halifax, a little too-well sunned (accidentally, and she'd warned me on the phone beforehand she'd look a bit burnt) while on the harbour and on the Atlantic, plus an amphibian (or another word I forget) tour of the city, that took her on land and water both, she brought gifts for both mom and dad. We were just delighted that she’d enjoyed herself and come back safely, and had benefitted from the experience of flying out to one of our most beautiful parts of the nation, and caught up with her dear friend out there. She still seemed radiant with the landscape and voice of down east, and full of stories and explanations of the kinds of details you absorb in travel - like the tour guide who could identify where people came from by their pronunciations of Dalhousie and Dartmouth. He said he could tell right away the Ontarians by their treatment of these words. Such an education, travelling.
Of course she can only very sketchily remember our holiday in Nova Scotia and P.E.I, when she was about 7. It sounds like she packed in plenty of memories and inspiration to return, in her short stay this time.
My souvenir gift is a lovely white seashell made into an angel, with black curls, and a Scots tam in blue and green tartan. Perfect, because of my angel collection but also because the first view we ever had of Nova Scotia for real, included a young lady highland dancer in tartan, welcoming us over the border. At that time Valerie was actually in Irish Dancing, pretty close (don’t tell the Irish and Scots that) and it seemed so fitting and quaint.
For Ernie, she brought a lovely Haligonian (she loves to say that) coffee mug to add to his collection.
Ah, travelling, especially when not overlong or excessive, and when for pleasure, with good friends waiting at the destination, the fresh change it brings out in one and the mind growth.
Even extra appreciation for everything at home and all the learning go on every day. And people, how different but the same they are.
We didn’t have much time together, since she was a little tired and settling into an important episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer, and I was going to the El Dorado 7th anniversary reading and celebration, in which I took part, and it was superb. A fine memorable evening in which I read Evening Haiku and The Silhouette’s Company poems, and Velada (not on here yet), in Spanish, thank you Norma Abrego and Oscar Martinez for helping me with checking one of my words)and For the Love of It. CBC (radio) recorded the evening’s deliveries, after interviewing the directors in the first part of the evening. I hope to catch the airing time and tape it myself.
But today I’ll hear more about the customs and nuances and scenery, I’m sure, of Halifax.
I am currently Cheerful
Comments (1)
Sweating the Wardrobe
06/17/2004 12:27 p.m.
Last evening, after a long hot walk home from my doctor visit, (fortunately the heat doesn’t bother me nearly as much as it used to, another good side effect from radiation years ago, for some reason) I felt a spurt of energy after supper. And wanted to, as I’d enjoyed some carrot cake for a treat. Not that I’m paranoid of calories or gaining weight, but don’t like to sit much after such a treat. And no, I won’t become anorexic or anything, because I’ve seen too closely the ravages of that enough to know it’s a terrible disease. I'm about what I want to weigh now, and just maintain. At the most another four or five pounds, but maybe not even that, could go. Then that's it! The trick is to just check now and again it doesn't creep up a lot. And to do yoga regularly and walk or bike (someday swim again).
But preparing my clothes for my Manitoba trip later this summer, I started re-organizing my closet and then trying on clothes I hadn’t in a long while. That mood strikes me sometimes and I enjoy it, now that I have been as what my uncle in England used to call “slimming” (carefully, and slowly - for keeping my health more than anything).
So here I was even trying on my blue velvet dressy number I bought for New Years Parties that didn’t quite happen, or very fine occasions. As well as sampling several other outfits. Then I’d run downstairs to the main floor to see how they looked in my favorite mirror, then back up and change again. I even found the Victoria Secrets cream-coloured shift-slip, bought years ago and never worn. But I can't part with it. It's my only V.S. item. By the time my fun had ended and I’d lined up the clothes on the rods in order, that I'd choose from for (not wanting to take too much) out west, and a few parties there, and the flight etc., I descended the staircase yet again (I live on that staircase we put in years ago when we switched from a bungalow to a renovation that added the second storey)to downstairs and plunked on the couch, saying to my husband, boy it is warm even with the air conditioning on. I wiped some sweat from my face and then groaned, when he said, but it’s not, it was sposed to be cool this morning, so we haven’t had it on.
I hadn’t even noticed until then. The windows were all closed, as if he had it on. Often he sets it up before he leaves for work. He kind of spoils me in that way, shutting all the windows and getting the house starting to cool, and he also makes the coffee before leaving for work most mornings (doesn't have one himself til he gets to work) so when I come down, or Val gets up much later, it’s ready. Can’t knock that, can you?
Silly me, I guess I had the doctor’s appointment and the trip on my mind and my novel work etc. so much I hadn’t paid enough attention.
I laughed at myself, and Mare and I did later at night on the phone, as I told her that without realizing the air wasn’t on, I’d been trying on blue velvet and all these wardrobe choices, (changing and trying on things can be exhausting I usually find) and running up and down our long two flights of stairs, to check them out. Then working in the closet, and thinking I’m a little warm from this, but it never occurred to me the air cooling wasn’t even on. Years ago, I’d never have kept that up in those conditions! I suppose I just figured with the hot flashes I get sometimes, I was getting into another one of those when I sat on the couch.
Which reminds me, where is my bathing suit? I must bring that! I love packing, thinking I’m going away, an upcoming change of scenery and experience...as I don’t get away nearly enough these days. But that should change soon, as my husband will be home a lot more probably in the near future (a year or so) and we hope to travel. If it weren’t for that and all the costs and vet visits,
involved, I’d be very tempted to find a new dog. Meanwhile, Penny Lane has really adopted us with Valerie away for four days, and always at night Penny Lane visits my yoga mat anyway, and seems to know exactly when it’ll hit the floor in my room, and she’s flying up the stairs to land plunk in the middle of it. I can work around her fine for most postures, but not the shoulder stand and the plough and bow. Sometimes I wait for those, knowing she’ll leave it when I get off, and then I go back to them.
It’s uncanny how she clocks me and from anywhere in this large house, like radar knows even if I do it later or earlier one evening. She’s right there!
Cats and yoga seem to curl up together somehow. I do admit I like to observe her when I stretch, sometimes, as she is a natural yogini. Like a dog can be, but even moreso. She languishes in her cleaning of self and it stretching her paws foreward and seems to meditate with those light emerald eyes staring, mesmerizing....
Well, on to the new day. Shorts and a t-shirt are enough for now, but mmm....what will I find to wear for the reading tonight???? It’s ok, the air conditioning’s definitely on. And my hubby made the coffee...I’m so spoiled! I wonder, when he’s home in the days more, how we’ll get on together??? We’ll have to make him an office, too, for his consulting work, but there is plenty of room. I just hope the phones doesn’t go too crazy. I have a real pet peeve that camping used to give me relief from, that's phones ringing steadily. I love to talk and listen, just don't like the ringing... I suppose people bring cell phones camping now...groan...and on canoes? I sure hope not. Sorry, I digress... But first, before those major changes and adjustments, we have a lot of planning to do, gathering for the happy son and future daughter-in-law, a garden to tend, and my novel pursuit. (And a surgery). New Year’s (I swear I’m wearing my blue velvet for the next one)Then the wedding next spring...when that's done, somehow we are aiming for Italy and maybe B.C. but I may have to win the lottery or have a bestseller really do well first. Lots to look forward to (not counting September's hand surgery). I am currently Calm
I am listening to the Seeker's old Coke commercial song
Comments (1)
Lobbying for a Loblolly
06/16/2004 12:18 a.m.
(Lobbying for a Tree)
If I could lobby
for a select species of tree
to come and grow
in Ontario
it would be the
loblolly pine
how scrumptious the name
what a writer could do
with this
working the tongue of the pen
over its fascinating twists
one of this tree’s attributes is
it acts as a natural sound barrier
always a welcome aspect to me
in this world of noise pollution
if it could survive in my choice setting
I’d give it a home in my latest novel m.s.
but according to my search engine
it seems it can’t belong
in the Bon Echo park environs
up here; and it would be too huge
a leap for poetic license
instead I’ll envy the folks
in North Carolina
and perhaps out in western Canada
who have such treelines
and for a while
I guess I’ll loll about and pine
over the makings of a haiku
with a loblolly in my lines
and for the m.s. be content
with the honorable ancient cedars
over several hundred years old
and the white and silver birch
with the maple and spruce, not too shabby either
and Northern and Jack Pines
the latter a fine muse for Milton Acorn
I should be safe with them
though we'll see; I have more research to do
I may be scouting in google
the encyclopaedia and the library
'til it's almost time to hunt down a
Christmas Tree
Author’s Note:
If any of you have been fortunate enough to be around
loblolly pines, I’d love to hear from you about them even
if I turn evergreen. But remember, the loblolly was my idea, first. Well, second, I learned about it in Nicholas Sparks' novel, The Guardian. Figures, he writes about his native North Carolina predominantly. Thanks for whetting my appetite Nicholas. I have to go there some day, after reading so much about the landscape from these novels. I am currently Creative
Comments (0)
A special Maureen and Maria day
06/15/2004 01:23 a.m.
After years of friendship on poesie and on here, I heard Maria Massarella on my phone tonight, for the first time ever, when she treated me to a wonderful chat. On a hot Ottawa day that began for me with a stab of lightening and then thunder waking me at four in the morning, and three hours later, after a little sleep in between, the sounds of my daughter coming in to kiss me goodbye before leaving for her plane trip east. I rested off and on during the day, feeling unusually weary. Meanwhile, I'm cleaning house a bit and planning for our upcoming trip to Manitoba.
But the outdoor blooms from the garden and the gentleness of ferns waving coolly in the breezes, seemed to come right into my kitchen at the sound of Maria’s voice. It was like she had entered my world, and stepped right up to the back porch by the pond. It was early evening here, so after I heard her say "Maureen - Maria from Italy", and I repeated "Maria from Italy?" excitedly, I excused myself a moment and turned down the stove and the radio. It was a good time for both she and I to be awake and enjoy a splendid long talk. I had advised my husband and daughter since Saturday that Maria may be calling, (I think they thought I was imagining it, we don’t have a lot of long long distance callers or calls out) Maria from Italy, Australia, poesie and pathetic, and as warm and close-sounding as I’d dreamt she’d be. I can confirm, just like I’d often thought, from her writings, that she and I share the same philosophies and approaches to adversity and keep our senses of humour through trial. And our spirituality. There are many similarities, it seems, though I feel I flatter myself. She is so brilliant. We've both loved working in the school system, for the personal reward of the education field and interaction with literacy and youth, (not hugely financially gaining but a pleasure and growth for us) and love languages, just for starters. Both have a daughter and son and mature marriages. We laugh at the same experiences, refuse to cry over the same others. Unless there's a good point in crying. Or a real release needed. But we refused to dwell on the whys of our challenges or let them dominate our day-to-day growth. We've benefitted from the care of angels and nuns, believe in visions and prayer overall in healing, and pursueing the best health care possible. And that Cancer patients have rights, and should not be disgraced or neglected. I will have more to say, about the call, I’m sure, but just want to revel in it this evening, a hot day here, not too hot in Italy at all, a day when I was feeling unusually weary and imagining my daughter’s arrival in Halifax, from her first flight ever, and happy when she called in the morning to say she’d arrived safely and her friends had met her, for her four day stay there. She was already enjoying the coast and catching up with dear friends. Valerie was last in Halifax when we as a family drove down, when she was 7, her brother l0, and took our vacation in Nova Scotia and in P.E.I. A beautiful part of the world I'll revisit myself whenever I can.
The day was doubly intriguing and cheering as it also brought to me Maria’s lovely conversation. I will sleep tonight seeing the harbours of Nova Scotia and the groves of Italy in my dreams, I’m sure. Ciao, Maria, and keep listening to all your angels. Grazie.
I am currently Cheerful
Comments (0)
Next 10 Entries - Previous 10 EntriesReturn to the Library of Maureen Glaude
|