With apologies to George Harrison

Every morning a little black dog climbs upon my chest to wake me up. I call her my little ray of sunshine, because even on the darkest of days she reminds me of the power of love.
When I first adopted Georgie two years ago I was in a dark place. I had lost my 12 year old dog to a suspected brain tumour after a brief and devastating illness. We were broken in this house, stumbling around in the darkness and simply going through the motions. There was plenty of blame and anger and sadness to go around, but no love or light or laughter and that had to change. So I began a search for a new dog despite my husband's opposition. It didn't take me long to find a small black dog who was described as "very much longing to fit in somewhere and just wants to be loved for who she is". Well then, don't we all? So I went to meet her and when I saw how well she fit with our other dog, I knew she would be coming home.

From the beginning she was a ray of sunshine and because she had come home in early spring, after a "long cold lonely winter" I named her Georgie. From the first she slept at the foot of our bed and, for many months, if she woke in the middle of the night she would crawl up next to me and nuzzle me for some pets. I got the feeling that she wanted to be sure I was still there and having confirmed that she was content to return to the foot of the bed. Come morning she would return and lay upon my chest, her tail thumping against my leg. It's her way of letting me know that she is ready to face the day that spreads before us and don't I want to get up and join her? I do, indeed.

Georgie is a funny little dog. Half dachshund and half blue heeler and full of mischief. She is the smartest dog I've ever owned and keeps me on my toes. She lives to be outside and rainy days like today are spent staring out the window. She is my biggest and best motivator: to wake up, to laugh, to soak up the sunshine, to go for a walk, to inspect the puddles, to play a game, to hike in the woods... We do it all together. She is the dog I've always wanted, the dog I've always needed, and if I am to believe the rescue's advert for her - the dog whose super power is love.

Just a few photos...

The past little while I've been taking lots of photos, something I really enjoy doing. I've had some encouragement and decided to share the pics on my blog.

Finally a spring day and once out of work, I tried to make the most of it. Just doing a little experimenting with light and shadows. The first 2 shots I took downtown after work; I really love the caribou sculpture, I've yet to capture it's essence.

A poem

I want to be a crow
And caw caw caw my way
Across the sky.
Not caring
About what anyone thought
While I ate roadkill or garbage.
Not worrying about
How loud I was,
Not ever.
Everyday would be a party.
Doing as I pleased,
Surrounded by family and friends.

The words just came to me, almost as a complete thought as I sat and listened to the crows on my street. I know they're building a nest, although I haven't figured out exactly which tree. The crows speak to me often. Some people fear them, think they are a harbinger of deaths, but I trust them.

Am I who I've imagined?

Standing at the kitchen sink this afternoon, peeling potatoes and listening to curling on the TV in the next room. I was thinking about how much easier life would be if I had some chickens, then I could feed the peels to my flock. Isn't that what people do? Wouldn't that be easier than putting them in the compost collector under the sink, only to have to be emptied outside and then I'd have to wash the container. So much easier to throw them out my back door for the chickens.

At least I like to think it would be so in my imagined life. The one where we live out at our cottage, and I have chickens and hopefully some donkeys. That's the dream, that's the reason I go to work every day, that's the vision that motivates me. Every. Day. It's such a nice life that I've imagined.

But then it struck me, is this life that I'm living - right now - ever been one that I've imagined? Standing in my kitchen, waiting for more snow (in April!), making scalloped potatoes while I listen to curling? No, I have never laid in bed on a sleepless night and imagined myself here. But here is where I am, and I rather quite enjoy it. Hubby puttering in the basement, dogs napping in the sun spot and me in the kitchen, doing what I do best - cooking. It's a pretty nice place to be!

Little pieces of me, placed upon a shelf. 

Out of the fog.

I've been in a fog the past few weeks, struggling with the black dog of depression. Just going through the motions with a pasted on smile; as my father is fond of saying "fake it 'til you make it. Going to Minneapolis was a bit of a trigger for me, it seems. I knew there would be some emotional fall-out from the trip, but I didn't expect a funk that would last four weeks.
But Tuesday I awoke with my head in a positive place and the storm clouds had cleared. Some favourable wind blew in and brought me back to the me I've worked hard to become.

In addition to not feeling well, I also wasn't eating well. Or sleeping well. Or writing. It was just too hard. I started to, many times, but just gave up and made excuses to myself. My brain just felt too muddled to make sense of the stream of thoughts swirling beneath the surface. Today is clear and bright and I am ready. It's going to be a great day

A Day of Beauty

What a nice day! I've been in a very positive mindset all day. Maybe because today was the first true 'warm' day on the Prairies in many months. And what happens here when spring finally peeks it's sunny head around a snowbank? Everyone heads outside to make sure all that's melting is bring channelled away from their house.

Today when I got home from work it was a delicious 12° and I quickly rolled up my jeans and threw on some boots. It's a muddy season and the accumulated snow and ice pools on top of the still frozen ground. All across the neighbourhood was the sound of water being shovelled and ice being chopped. It's a necessary business this time of year - divert that stream downhill and into the sewers.

I've always been drawn to playing in the water; building dams or creating channels has occupied many happy hours of my time. Today was no different. And because it was a day of beauty, I made sure to pay attention to the curls of silt swirling under gravity's spell. Inspired by my findings, I went in search of more and found lilies and columbine bravely looking towards the sun.

A trip to the front yard revealed a fallen branch showing signs of being a bunny's breakfast. And outside my bedroom window laid a carpet of pine cone detritus left behind by my dog's nemesis, the red squirrel.

A day that began with a sunrise so stunning that it was discussed on the morning radio ended with an equally magnificent sunset. Its golden light reflecting off the glass in my living room.

I'm excited for spring; I hate having muddy dogs but I am enthralled by the greening of grey palette.

Before I leave you with photos from my beautiful day, I want to acknowledge my absence and plan on spending some time this weekend writing about my trip back to Minneapolis.

Shine

Before I met my current husband and moved to Canada,  I lived in Minneapolis. I had moved there with my soon to be first husband in 1992.  He and I divorced a couple of years later and even though we were both born and raised in NY, we loved Minneapolis so much we each stayed. After we split, I dated a series of bad choices, all of whom struggled with addiction issues. An unfortunate side effect of being in the restaurant business. I had a great job and a had bought a house but I wasn't happy. I was working hard and partying harder, just about off the rails.

And somehow fate intervened and I ended up in a tiny little town in northwestern Ontario. I was on a fishing trip with a friend and met my husband.  He proposed the night he met me and although it's been a bumpy ride, we've been together happily for 10 years.
I left behind my life in Minneapolis and haven't really looked back.

But this weekend,  he and I will be travelling to Minneapolis to see Bruce Springsteen in concert on Monday night. It's been a long time since I've been back and I am a very different person than I was when I lived there. I've calmed down, I'm more grounded and I am for sure a happier person than I can remember ever being. It's a struggle, but I'm still working on it. Everyday. As I like to say.

In two days I will step into a place I haven't been in a long time. Geographically or emotionally. And while we're there, I'll be visiting some old haunts and seeing some old faces. It's becoming clear this trip is more than a weekend getaway; it's an emotional homecoming.

I tend to stress over the smallest of details at the best of times (something I am actively working on), so coordinating a cross-border holiday really instigates my worry wart. Suffice to say, I am having a 'bit' of anxiety. But all this anxiety is self-generated. No one has put any pressure on me at all, it's just the old voices rising out of the depths. I'm not going to listen to them, I'm going to keep on letting my light shine.

The view out my window tonight.