A September weekend: strolling through sunlight and the heat of summer returned. Two days and three nights unfold with the up and down flow of a rusty sun salutation.
Present Perfect Progressive Tense (cataloguing gratitude)
Category: Mothering
You Want To Learn Arabic and Japanese
At a potluck in Western Canada, we could talk politics but restrain ourselves. Though before dinner, we bemoan the outcast state of health and education in the province. The public presence of White Supremacy. And the catastrophic weather elsewhere. Deadly hurricanes gather and let off steam in the Atlantic. Six thousand missing in the Bahamas: that much grief as unfathomable as the turquoise sea around Abaco Island.
48 hours in a life unfold – a long read
What days - feasts of friendship, feminism and this. Sunday, 25 August It began with a brunch ...chez Sheena with her loving extended family. Xander grins when we stand back to back: Ha! surpassed the height of this petite doting auntie. After Ajay’s crispy bottomed eggs, (a specialty, observes Shanda,) and other treats, we visit… Continue reading 48 hours in a life unfold – a long read
My generosity has limits
(Multitasking is a myth. Working mothers simply work more.) My generosity has limits in these first days of retirement.
Out of Time
by Janice Williamson August 18, 2019 Imagine you sit on a chair, in a car, or you stand leaning against the table. You have been there for an hour, a few days, or you have just arrived. You are home. You are not home. You would like to heal the drift. To this end, you… Continue reading Out of Time
We Know Where We Are and Where We Have Been Together
14 August 2019 We know where we are and where we have been together. (Savouring my daughter’s tasty vegetarian frittatta.) The three of us reminisce. I recall Hong Kong then and now. When my mother and I travelled to adopt my daughter, Hong Kong was a favourite city in spite of our brief stopover en… Continue reading We Know Where We Are and Where We Have Been Together
No Gate No Lock 