Tree

roots reach into earth

deeper than any shovel

no matter the strength of the back

wielding it

thirsty

seeking anchorage in an underground

ocean

feeding teeming, ceaseless movement

wild

tenacious

flexible

branches reach into sky

intricate twist, turn  and shiver

upwards, outwards

 awesome

shocking impossible symmetry

flicker(s)

shelter(s)

cradle(s)

deeper than any blue

no matter the heat or  cold of  sun

 greeting their thirst
 seeking fire

as definite and safe 

as its necessary distance

trunks hover

with bark the only skin they know

their precious ache

keeping earth and sky

together

and

apart

rings of ages listen and wonder at the threshold 

of

in-between

Saga, storm, silence

not to go on about the mundane craziness of a water damage renovation, but that saga is drawing to a close, finally. the house still smells like fresh paint, there are still a few light fixtures and two door knobs to install, and most of our possessions are in boxes or are piled in the middle of a room ... but it appears that we (partner and i ) have weathered this storm and are on the other side of an open ceiling  and a leaking bathroom. hooray.
during this chaos, our weather has been remarkably, unseasonably warm, with a few snow commercials (what qualifies as a storm here in neo-con civilized southern ontario).... but apparently there is a bad one coming this weekend, just in time for partner and i to drive into it as we head north to attend a silent sign language winter retreat weekend.
that's where i will be for the next few days. i must say, i am looking forward to the north, to the trees in winter, to the open spaces and sky, and to the silence.
whatever you all are doing to feel your own version of trees, sky and silence,  i hope you dwell in it deeply.

Go ahead.... make my day

Not to glorify Clint or Chrysler, but "the commercial" triggered such a shitstorm  of absurdity that I decided to play around with some intriguing juxtaposed one syllable words.

Clint does the squint

makes a mint

with a hint

says he di'n't

but his stint

winter sprint

still got print

since its glint

had the tint

of flint... 

what's next? a splint?

Missed Opportunity

Yesterday, February 1, was my dry date. 22 years of living clean and sober. Why, you ask, am I making note of it today?? Hmmm??
By some strange gestural quirk I accidentally clicked the minus key on my keyboard,thereby reducing my blog working screens to the size of a postage stamp. Well, maybe not quite that small, but pretty damn close. I then agonized for most of last evening and today ( in the glorious spare time I was able to find) over how this could possibly have happened. I am a grand ignorer of the obvious, apparently. Anyhow, partner graciously assisted me this evening in adjusting the plus key, and ta da, back to workable size. Please, no metaphoric innuendo here.....


....and taking up the theme of glorious spare time ( or inglorious, as the case may be.... and it is, in my case), I have had precious little these past 7-10 days. Sigh. Actually, that should be SIGH (!!). The water damage crisis I wrote about in my last post has been an adventure in consulting, choosing, purchasing, packing up things in the house, and more things and more things..... working with some really neat people, completely surrendering our house and its familiar spaces and arrangements.... but mostly it has allowed me to sit in complete awe of the contractor who is working on our house. And not only him, but the several other fellas who work with him. Amazing. I am fascinated by the craft of this practical intelligence, the ability to see pattern, distinguishing features, systemic coherences, integrated systems..... it's made this whole soggy episode a delight in ways I had not anticipated. So, here's to craft, however it is practiced.

My apologies for the break in visiting and writing. Can't wait to see what you're all up to.  ;)
Namaste.

Spelling is important.....

so, here's the latest.
i return from a great visit to newfoundland early in the new year. partner and i had been noticing some weird stuff about the upstairs bathroom  for a week or so before i left for the trip, but what the heck.... probably nothing to worry about.....
WRONG!
about a week after my return, i am up in my study working away, grading, doing email, whatever. i head down for a last cup of screaming hot tea before i turn out the lights and head off to sleep. i'm noodling around in the dining room, poking at the mail and other stuff i have on my table, and i hear this TAP TAP TAP  sound, although it's almost a  WET sounding tap, if you know what i mean.... kind of a  SLAP SLAP SLAP. or a  SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT..... so, i look left and right and finally ( !! ) up and there in all its soaking glory is a large flap of my dining room ceiling hanging in a surprisingly  symmetrical triangle ( tell me, how does this happen?? the triangle shape i mean.... i have a clue about the soaking part) and dripping with a remarkably regular rhythm. i gasp and curse and run to grab towels and buckets and plastic.....  first,  get a bucket under the damn leak and get the water that has accumulated  on the hardwood floor cleaned up asap..... then put a towel in the bucket because the SPLAT sound is even louder now..... sheesh.  i then go and  fill many containers with water and hurry downstairs to turn off the water valve in the basement. then i get plastic down under the bucket.... it's a good thing i am a flexible gal because i had to call on my best contortionist skills to get this task done without adding more water to the floor.

ok, immediate crisis averted, i settle down to sleep downstairs to monitor the situation after i have given the quick and dirty version to partner who has long since gone off to bed...... 

in the morning we call the plumber and i go to work.  partner and i text through the day.  plumber arrives and puts a new seal under the commode. flushes s dozen or so times and pronounces it ok.
i get home, the triangle is dripping again. partner is quite hard of hearing and cannot hear the SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT. we repeat the ritual of water containers and then turn off the valve again.
luckily, we left all the buckets and plastic in place..... aren't we proactive??
next day, plumber returns,  so, i guess it wasn't the seal on the toilet, heh heh heh..... 
he proceeds to go up through the ceiling and check out the bathtub drain. yup, that's it. he wrestles with that for an hour or so, replaces the gasket and now all is well again.
he does suggest that we make sure we have checked the bath for any leak areas.....
partner texts me.... "on your way home pick up some caulk ( spelling is important)"
funny. i text back and say i'd be happy to bring home some caulk. ha ha. i spend the evening caulking the seals on the tub. so far so good, although i have to say that this piecemeal approach to repair really vexes me....
i go to the basement and notice that the handle on the valve is now leaking. SIGH.
call again the next say. i decide to go with the distraught spouse routine which gets us a different plumber who tightens and adjusts the water shut off valve and says it's fine. no charge, thanks to  my distraught spouse performance on the phone before i left for work.

now, we await estimates from contractors both of whom have told us that the bathroom  floor is spongy and uneven,  the fan is not working, hence the mould on the celing in the bathroom, the vent will need to be replaced and redirected, obviously the  dining room ceiling will have to be fixed, and, oh by the way, that shut off valve?? that needs replacing too.
i am embracing this  as an opportunity for a long overdue bathroom renovation.
and i am hoping that i can learn to trust the wisdom of the specialists who do the job.
quite the intriguing beginning to this new year.
time to bow to the absurd.

Violet

flower

or

name

or the colour of your eyelids 

that first hour after you came

into the world

or the colour of the sky

that moment before

twilight

or the colour of that

moment

and so many 

moments

drenched...

glorious

Hazel

for years I simply couldn't see

the colour of hybridity

and, close at hand, the greenest eye

as elemental as a sigh....

Sweet pendulum of rise and fall

responded to the silent call

of amber's strange familiar glow

relying on my heart to know

this grove of wild affinity

both wrecking ball and harmony

this tender ambiguity 

of 

hazel