Liquid Sky Blues

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Glassy blue-green perfection
Of the still mountain lake
You are like a magic mirror
A portal into another world
A solemn reflection
With treetops pointing down
To a sky so far below
I feel I could fall for miles
before I reached it

Here on the dock it seems I’m far above the earth
Looking down on a highway of clouds
Wondering if you’re down there somewhere
In this other world
And if I could reach you

The sun shines brighter for a moment
And glows as a golden orb
Floating in that watery sky
Beckoning me
Sending me rippling smiles
As the brightness surrounds me
Here on the dock
On the quiet lake

Before I leave
I plunge in my hand
Into the liquid sky
To feel the coldness
Of the January water

My hand burns a little
And I imagine
It’s almost as cold as you are now
I choke and stand up
Lamenting that I can’t reach Heaven
By jumping into this sky

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I Will Walk With The Lion

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Each night the kids and I explore by flashlight
the enchanted world of Narnia
till my voice lulls the little ones to sleep
and the big girls beg for just one more chapter…

We’ve met brave children, witches, satyrs and fauns
but above all, the One who brings the deeper magic
who makes spring return and ends the
“Always winter but never Christmas,”
they say it with a hushed whisper
Aslan!

The Lion, the king,
the beautiful and terrible
the creator and saviour
whose velvet paws contain immense strength
whose immense heart
is crowned with gentleness

And so here on retreat in the woods
I’ve been imagining myself as one of the children
having stepped through the enchanted wardrobe
into the forest of Narnia

I will walk with the Lion
through days sweet and light
And though there be battle
darkness and pain
with the Lion I will remain
in triumph and hope
I will walk with the Lion

And when I am weary,
I’ll lean on his chest
feeling his strength
the warm rumble of his breath
on my neck

His heavy paws hold me close
and his claws keep me safe
The Lion’s embrace
is my fortress

Together we’ll mourn
for the lost and the suffering
the Lion’s great eyes
pools of sadness
that shimmer with love

Close to him hope unties each knot of doubt in my belly
My heart melts into his golden warmth
and deep purrs embrace me
in a cocoon of sound
I am safe

Home Safe

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My husband just arrived safely home from a 3 day business trip to LA. He greeted me at the door with these roses and a hug! Made me think of when we were dating… 🙂

I have to say, as generally independent as I am, being used to his regularly long work hours, I’m awfully glad to have my best friend back home again.

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The “when” of it

I love the short, insightful poems by Dennis Ference. He is a lovely peaceful man who reminds me a lot of my Dad! Hope you enjoy this one, and have fun exploring his blog if you’re searching for some new uplifting poems to read.
Cheers,
Anna

den169's avatarMerging Traffic

only now

how sadly misguided we are who stubbornly rummage
for the heat and spark of Life solely
in memories and anticipations,
for you and I can love
only now
forgive
only now
shed tears
only now
feel compassion
only now
laugh
only now
rejoice
only now
be grateful
only now
surrender
only now
live and celebrate
the All of it
only now

© 2015 Dennis Ference

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Beware the Silver Soup Pot and Other Nonsense

Because of recent reports of a serious shortage of ridiculous nonsense on my blog, and lest you think it’s all doom and gloom in Crazy Land, I thought I would remedy the situation by telling you about all the silly posts I’ve thought about writing lately, but haven’t yet.

I thought about telling you many silly things, like how my house looks like a band of roving toddlers frequently celebrates raves in it, or that Santa crashed into it, with his entire sleigh of presents, and then left (not “Nice!”). But then I though I’d better clean up the mess instead of drawing cartoons of it.

One of my cartoons was going to be of me homeschooling the kids in the midst of the chaos. My husband would walk in the door and look a little stunned. Then my speech bubble would say, “Clean? Who me? I’m just the tutor!”

But I tried to make the right choice (at least a few times.) Scrubbing floor vs blogging. Ugh. Dirty floor, here we come. Hmmm, sometimes it’s no fun to be responsible. But don’t worry, I won’t let it happen too often!

I also thought about telling you about the incident with the soup pot. Sounds very innocent, doesn’t it? A pretty shiny silver soup pot. But you’ll see. It’s awful.

We walked in the door from an outing to be hit by a terrible stench. “Oh, yuck, I should’ve taken out the garbage with diapers,” I thought. So I did. No better. Must be something in the sink. Did dishes. No better. What is it?!

Then I checked the silver soup pot which had been sitting, looking pretty, on my stove all week, or possible since the Stone Age, I couldn’t be sure. Aaack! Broccoli from outer space with mossy tentacles , growing rapidly and certainly soon to be developing artificial intelligence, nourished by the primordial sludge of aqueous goop it sat in.

THE WORST SMELL EVER!!!

And I’m a mom, so I’m an expert in stinkage. I even feel sorry for the other nasty compost I rapidly dumped it on. It could be used as a deterrent for robbers. Just leave an open pot in front of your door. If the stench doesn’t stop them, they’ll trip on the pot, slip in the goop, and meet a ghastly demise in your entranceway.

…I think I may have watched “Home Alone” a few times too many as a kid. Possibly only beaten by “Ernest Goes to Camp” and “The Princess Bride.” All of which explains my highly refined sense of humour (i.e. the stupider, the better)…

So beware the covered silver pots sitting on your stoves. You never know what might be lurking within their deceptively shiny walls. And while we’re on the topic of animate kitchen utensils, you’d better watch this fabulous musical kitchen jam by the Muppets’ very own Swedish chef. Crank it up, and don’t forget to dance! 😉 It’s a very effective cure for moodiness known as “Muppet-Therapy.” But more about that another time…

The Muppets: Pöpcørn – YouTube

Shadow Cat

I can feel grief stalking me like a cat
slipping around corners
just out of sight

She’s lurking
staring at me with her luscious eyes
glowing in the shadows
beckoning

But I’m afraid
and look away
Not again!
Not yet!

I walk away
but the soft paws
pad after me quickly
quietly
surely

Sometimes I tire of running away
and shout out,
“Ok, you’ve won. Come get me,”
but the cat slinks off
ever disobedient

And then
when I least expect it
she jumps onto my lap
settles in with her kneading claws
and that familiar purr

A warm weight of blackness

Once again
I am hers

Do we treat our husbands as well as our friends?

Sometimes we wives and moms can be having a hard day, and are perhaps very tired or stressed, but when a friend calls we perk up and feel much better. And when a friend is in need emotionally, we find the time and strength to be present to them, offering a listening ear, encouraging words, and understanding heart…We are able to give the best of ourselves to friends, even when we are drained.

We wouldn’t imagine saying, “I’ve had a rough day, so I’m going to blast a heap of bitterness into the first available ear, even if it’s my dear friend.” Or “I think I’ll sting my friend with repeated sarcasm if she attempts to make me feel better. What does she know?”

Why then, do we women often do exactly that with our husband, as if our every struggle was his personal fault? As if he should cower under our mood, and be culpable if he doesn’t read our mind and fan us with palm branches before we mention being hot…

We’ve been taught to be very self-righteous as women, and very suspicious of men, but I ask you, is this prickly attitude making us happy? Does it not foster division in our marriages, and dissatisfaction in ourselves?

I grew up with three brothers, whom I love a lot, so I have a hard time buying the “evil men” stereotype. Personally I think we human beings are all fairly imperfect, but still kind of wonderful.

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Ultimately we are the ones who have to make ourselves happy, who with the help of grace have to choose happiness despite life’s challenges. Blaming someone else for all our troubles only traps us in the cage of our own weakness. We wouldn’t blame all our challenges on our friends, so why would we choose (even subconsciously) to blame them on our husbands, who are supposed to be our best friends?

The role of a best friend is to love us no matter what and to walk with us through life, always by our side. It isn’t to carry us so we don’t even have to use our legs. It’s to support us in happy and sad times, but not to provide a godlike dose of happiness and protection from all sadness. You can be vulnerable and honest with your husband without expecting him to be able to fix everything. Don’t deify your spouse. Accept and love him as a human being who is worthy of your respect and tenderness, even if he’s not a superhero. Remember inside there is still a little boy who needs your love.

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Perhaps you and I are never grumpy or sarcastic with our spouses (ahem!), but for those mortals who are, I think this is good advice: try to treat your husband with the same kindness and understanding you do your friends. And of course all this advice applies to men as well, in how lovingly they should treat their wives.

This year let’s take responsibility for our happiness by trying to be our best selves, not just with our friends, but with our spouse. In doing so we will become better people, and give him a chance to do the same. And it is in this striving to become the best version of ourselves that we will find peace and happiness.

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5 Reasons Why Stay-At-Home Parenting = Writing Success

Here is one more awesome post from Kate from Australia, whose blog I love. Her “Fail” posts are ridiculously funny. I wish she could come over for tea. We could sort socks together (ha!). She’s a fellow crazy mom blogger, and here’s her promised post on why writing at home works so well. Enjoy!

katelikestocreate's avatarLaptop on the Ironing Board

I used to think I would have to wait for my children to grow up a bit before thinking about becoming a writer, but now I realize I’m exactly where I need to be. Here’s why:

1. You will be desperate for a creative outlet

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There are only so many lullabies you can sing and pretend cappuccinos you can sip before you start craving a use for your brain.  Harness this hunger and write!

2.  It’s the ideal set-up

"The Frenzy": a cartoon depicting chaos surrounding an oblivious Kate who is writing furiously. Annie empties cornflakes onto the table, Harry is watering the television and the other two have kindled a small fire on the table and are roasting marshmallows

If you were trying to write on weekends whilst working full-time, you might struggle to get yourself into the right frame of mind.  If you took time off work to focus on your writing, you would have to face the unbearable pressure of producing something good and printable to validate your choice.  When you’re a stay-at-home-parent, you have the luxury of writing for fun.  If you ever get to the point…

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On Writing

This post made me laugh so hard I had to share it, and I also completely agree that being at home with the kids is a perfect setting for being a writer. Love it. Hope Kate makes you smile as she does me..

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Pretty notepad with pen, tea and chocolate

Disclaimer: I suspect this is going to be an insufferably self-indulgent and introspective post.

Suffer.

I love writing. I get such a rush from words tumbling out and jostling for position on the screen or in my ratty notebook.  There is a delicious agony in searching for the right word or the perfect one-liner. I am filled with glee when I finish a piece and it’s done, it’s definitely done and I can totally publish it.  And knowing that I have readers as lovely as you is pure bliss.  I think I know now what I want to be when I grow up.

And here’s the funny part: I think that my job as a stay-at-home-mum fits perfectly with this plan.

I feel a little nervous saying this – in any other profession, it’s perfectly OK to say you love working and that your job is full of fun perks…

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