On the Banks of the River

Village stream Avening close to bursting its banks  (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“Civilization is a stream with banks. The stream is sometimes filled with blood from people killing, stealing, shouting, and doing the things historians usually record; while on the banks, unnoticed, people build homes, make love, raise children, sing songs, write poetry, and even whittle statues. The story of civilization is the story of what happens on the banks. Historians are pessimists because they ignore the banks for the river.” ~ Will Durant

I opened a favourite book of mine, Storycraft, by Jack Hart, and by pure chance found this quote on page 142 of Chapter 9. Now you can open a book at random and not find anything of consequence. This time I opened a book at random and found a quote that pretty well sums up all of the important things that need to be summed up.

It is the everyday, the lives that we live, the families we make (and family is a big word–you do not have to be related by blood to be family), and the things we do and create that are important. Like a headline ripped from the paper–civilization is given short shrift if you only look at the extremes.

The “story of civilization is what happens on the banks” in our everyday lives. That is the interesting stuff. Leave the other stuff to historians and the headlines. (Not all historians keep account of the killing, stealing, and shouting–Will Durant is himself a historian).

Bliss is what happens on the banks–what do you think?

Free Fall Saturday or How I Would Like It To Be

Saturday

Reading a book (Photo credit: Ed Yourdon)

Starts out slowly

Rising from bed

Finding no reason to hurry

Luxurious time to

Sip a coffee rather than gulp it

Read the paper rather than just glance at the headlines

Eat something that takes time to prepare

Rather than another bowl of instant oatmeal

The day to don old clothes

That are good to putter in

Maybe make a list or two

A run to the grocery store

And certainly a turn at the liquor store

For that libation of choice to end the day

Pet the dog, stroke the cat

Meet with friends or read a book

Listen to music

Saturday

A day that does not demand much

A day to replenish

Replete with a night of slumber unfettered by worry~

That is the Saturday of my dreams

The Saturday of my bliss…………….

What blissful thing are you doing this Saturday?

Fragments

Not one to back down from a challenge–here is my offering for Day 4 of Poetry month:

POETRY SOCIETY POSTCARD (Photo credit: summonedbyfells)

Fragments

Poetry takes a fragment of life

And makes it live.

Words give meaning to

the steaming cup of coffee

charged with starting another day;

the newspaper unfolded and read

dispersing knowledge needed or not;

to the wash on the line

soldiered together with clothespins;

the tomatoes on their vines

climbing to reach the sun;

the work day with its busy-ness

and camaraderie;

the evening closing in

to end another day.

Resting our weary bodies

For tomorrow–

Fragments of life.

Related articles

• Fragment By Amy Lowell (renardmoreau.wordpress.com)

Poetry Day Two for Me; Day Three for Those Who Started on Time ~ OR ~ Procrastination: My Friend

Don Marquis (Photo credit: hot4sunny)

Warning: This is not a work that has deep meaning—it treats its subject matter with barely a nod to metaphor, simile, or some of those other devices you are supposed to employ if you are a true poet.  And I am not sure why I made Procrastination male and not female—this “poem of sorts”  just chose its own gender.

Yes, I am an apologist for my work. I am a writer–if we did not apologize for our work then we would have to take criticism to heart. It is a defense mechanism and without it, most writers would be weaponless in a world without heart (not really–I just wanted to use a bunch of Ws). Without further ado, or apology (well there may be one more)–my poem du jour:

Procrastination: My Friend

I have fought with procrastination

All my life

I have fought him with every fibre of my being

I am tired of fighting

And have decided to make him my best friend.

At times he has been the bane of my existence

A nuisance, a blight, a curse, and a pest

Saying: “I do my best work at the last minute”

Or: “You cannot rush perfection”

And even: “We are not here for a long time; we are here for a good time”.

I have taken his advice on too many occasions

To my detriment for sure

But I am seeing that Procrastination is not all bad

He may taunt me, cause my hair to turn grey, and give me hives

But many times when I procrastinate

The problem goes away on its own

Or I come up with a better way to deal with it

And I am saved wasted time and effort.

I know that procrastination and I will always do battle

But I am at peace now, and our battles will be short

as he whispers in my ear: “We are not here for a long time; we are here for a good time.”

A timeless if seemingly frivolous message

That  makes traversing this “vale of tears”  a “walk in the park”.

Again apologies for the clichés—but they just seemed to work. And that is what a cliché is all about when you write a poem in less than half an hour.

Can procrastination be bliss, once you have come to terms with it.  Or is it always a blight?

Is Bliss the Whole Truth?

The Old Kitchen clock (Photo credit: ell brown)

Cause to celebrate: we change the clocks this weekend and “spring forward” to satisfy our urge to save daylight. We have no control over this—it is ordained.

Why This is Cause to Celebrate: my kitchen clock will now not be an hour ahead—for the next six months it will be the right time. Even if something is ordained it does not mean that we cannot rebel just a little bit. By not changing the time on the kitchen wall clock, I am not being controlled by that effervescent Big Brother.

The Truth of the Matter: The kitchen clock is really high up on the wall in the kitchen – you need a ladder, or at the very least a chair to reach it, take it down, and change the time. In the last six months I did not have the will to change it. And no, not once did it fool me into thinking I was late for something.

My little rebellion was really just laziness. And Seinfeld is right, everyday life is all about nothing.

Bliss is somewhere between the truth and a good story. What do you think?

Related articles

• Daylight Savings Time (tenwordstory.wordpress.com)
• Time (misifusa.wordpress.com)

Future Bliss

Like this Rosebud, I am still waiting to bloom.  (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 A service has been invented through which you can send messages to people in the future. To whom would you send something, and what would you write?

This is a timely prompt from lovely Michelle at WordPress, as I have not been looking forward to my upcoming birthday in April. I  have come to the realization that I will not be wandering this little place called earth for as many years as I have lived thus far. I am going to be 60 (sob, groan, ackkk!) and I am fairly sure I am not going to live another 60 years.

When I was younger, 60 was not something I could  easily imagine–and when I did, I imagined that I had “arrived”; that I had reached my ultimate goals; that I would be ensconced in comfort.

It is not so much the age of 60 itself that has me bummed out–it is the fact that I only have so much time left to “arrive”.  I am fighting the feeling that the book is closed and that my goals are unattainable, so I am going to write this letter to my sons in an effort to give them advice, and me some hope:

Dear Adam and Tyler;

As you read this, I am a vibrant 80 year old. I did not reach some of my goals until later in life, as I have always been a late bloomer. But along the way, I learned that even if I did not feel like I had been a “success” in the normal sense of the word, I reached success on many levels.

I found love with your dad; I found my maternal instincts as soon as I had you guys (it was an amazing transformation by the way as I did not know that I really wanted children until I had them); I worked at jobs I did not like; I worked at jobs I loved; I had a business of my own and learned that I would rather buy books than sell them; I learned how to be a “mother bear” advocate for you guys; I tried to learn to let go (even at this age, I am probably still struggling with that); I learned that family and friends can get you through anything; that losing your parents is rough but their voices stay with you; I have learned that success is not just financial (though it does make it easier); and I have learned that you should never give up.

As the two of you progress down the sometimes smooth, sometimes wretched path of life, keep in mind that in the end it is all worthwhile. You have seen your parents struggle, and now you see us comfortable in our own skins. Even though we are eighty, we live life as if there is no tomorrow, because as we all know, there may not be.

Live life well and fully. Enjoy good times even in the bad times. That old saying~this too will pass~is true, even though some things we would rather go away, do not go away fast enough.

You are loved, and my best successes!  ~ Love mom

I know that this letter to my sons twenty years down the line has fallen into cliché but I do not care–clichés are there for us to use–and sometimes they do the job. I am looking for my bliss today–in twenty years I am certain I will have found it and put it to good use.

What would you say to your loved ones from your place of bliss?

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• Where Is The Bliss In That? (onthehomefrontandbeyond.wordpress.com)

 

So What Do You Think?

Love Stinks (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This fine day after Valentine’s Day is being celebrated in a questionable manner in some corners of the world. I join the legions who do not like the commercialization of love,  cheapening it by pressuring us into buying roses and diamonds and chocolates (seriously though how bad could a day be that supports chocolate?) But, are we so delicate that we cannot withstand this barrage?

Kudos for those of you who just ignore the hype. Equal kudos for those of you who enjoy it. No kudos for those of you who try to derail it by throwing anti-Valentine parties. The headline this morning in my local daily reads: “Kissers, Cuddlers Not Welcome”. A local bar is throwing an anti-Valentine’s Day party tonight and they have banned “public displays of affection” calling them “strictly taboo” at their annual event.

Most of us have loved and lost. Many of us are in wonderful relationships—but we remember when we weren’t. But is that any reason to be so anti-love? I am not really comfortable with public displays of affection at any time—but showing a little affection should not be eliminated for the sake of broken and jaded hearts. My favourite song was once the  J. Geils Band’s  “Love Stinks”. But it was a phase, and I did not resent those who had found love—in fact I found it heartening.

I say to those who are anti-Valentine—get over yourselves. There is no bliss in negativity. What do you think?

You too?

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

mamanne from Mama’s Midlife Crisis says she is:

“Just trying to make my way through a life that doesn’t seem like the one I originally signed up for.”

This may not sound too blissful, but how many of us are making our way through a life we did not expect? I had many dreams, expectations, and wishes. Some of them came true and some of them did not.

When I was younger I did not see myself married. I have now been married 31 years. Happily for 25 (not in a row–lol). Most important: happily now. (Explanation–seriously does this need an explanation–has anyone ever been happy during their whole marriage? My husband is my best friend, but he has had his moments.)

I thought I was going to have a butler. This has not happened yet. “Yet” is the word to pay attention to here.

I did not think I would have children. I have two boys (men really now). And I am happy beyond belief that I had children.

I thought I would be a writer. I am a writer. (I want to write “sort of”  here–but that would be denigrating my career path and I am not going to do that)

I have achieved some wisdom in that I have come to the conclusion that whoever said that money cannot buy happiness has not been without money.

I have had times that were too good to be believed. I have had times that were bad beyond belief. Who hasn’t? I have decided that I really liked the times that were too good to be believed. I am working on having more of those, and less of the other times.

Bliss is the realization that the life we thought we had signed up for is a myth we can turn into a reality. What do you think?

Exotic Bliss ~ Saturday Recipe

super bowl (Photo credit: sinosplice)

If you have been reading this blog for any length of time, you know that the recipe I am providing today is a bit out of my league. First of all, it has way more than five ingredients and a few more than three steps, as well as being slightly exotic. But it is so delicious I could not resist sharing it with you.

On Super Bowl Sunday, I went to a hockey game with friends, and after the game they made us this delightful meal. It hits so many high notes, I barely know where to begin~the chicken was bronzed in the sauce, and the medley of ingredients served to provide a powerful  but delicate punch.

I am not a sports fan, but have been to a couple of Windsor Spitfire games, and am beginning to understand why people enjoy hockey. It is fast-paced and exciting. I was in an arena that held as many people as my small town (6000 or so). The noise is phenomenal, but it is a companionable noise, and the feeling of community is palpable. My only argument with hockey is when they throw down their gloves and go at it, or smash into the opposite team members with anger. That is when the spirit of the game is lost (for me).

Tajine pot.  (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This chicken recipe was so good that even I, the queen of easy cooking, am going to attempt it. We had couscous under the delectable “stew” and chunks of butternut squash on top. My hostess forgot to put the slivered almonds on top (they were ready—but like me, she sometimes forgets one ingredient when she has guests), and to be honest they were not missed—but I imagine they would provide a nice crunch.

So without further ado—I present you with:

MOROCCAN STYLE CHICKEN

12 chicken thighs, skinned and boned – cut into chunks

2 tablespoons olive oil

3 tablespoons dried currants

2 tablespoons of honey

2 or 3 large cloves garlic, minced

2 teaspoons ground cumin

1 and 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon (or a little more)

1 and 1/2 cups bottled salsa (mild or medium)

1/2 cup of dried apricots chopped or figs or prunes or a combination of these

1/2 cup water

1/4 cup chopped or slivered almonds

Method for Crock Pot:

Cut each chicken thigh into 4 or 5 pieces. Set aside.

In a large metal bowl, mix together olive oil, garlic, salsa, water, currants, apricots, honey, cumin and cinnamon.  Add chicken pieces and stir well.

Transfer to crock pot and cook for 2 hours on high and then 4 or 5 hours on low. Stir occasionally.

Serve over couscous or rice. Follow directions on package for cooking.

Top with chopped or slivered almonds. Serve hot!

P.S. You could cook some chunks of sweet potato or butternut squash and serve on top for colour as well as nutritional value.

Do you have a recipe that is “out of your league” but you would be willing to try because the results are so delectable (or dare I say it, in keeping with my theme: blissful)?

~Bliss is in the Details~

Last February I found my bliss in something simple and basic: hot water. This is a retread of that post—since it only received a couple of visits as I had not yet found my blogging community of friends.

Water drop (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

Here is the February 2013 version of an event that happened in February 2012:

If you don’t believe that it is the simple things in life that make life grand, then you have not been without hot water for five days. A week ago, our water heater decided it had had enough and emptied its warm watery contents all over the floor of our basement. Lovely.  After rescuing all manner of flotsam and throwing away some jetsam, I used the shop vac to clean up the water. Then I went online and watched a video that advised what you should do when your water heater dies and emits its contents willy nilly all over the floor. First if it is a gas heater, which is what we have, you should turn off the gas (light bulb moment) then turn off the water that goes into the tank (second light bulb moment).

Okey, dokey,…………

A quick and rather frantic call to my husband at work brought him home to turn off the gas and the water, since I did not want to blow up the house by turning something the wrong way. We called the water heater people who told us they would be there between 1:00 and 6:00, which sounds like quite a leeway, but as I had spent two summers working at Bell Canada while I was a university student, I knew that this was not bad timing. At Bell we expected people to take the whole week off to wait for us (I am just kidding).

red carpet (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I had the red carpet laid out for the water heater fellow, and after leaving him in the basement to assess the situation I turned to go upstairs and told him to call me if he needed anything. I had not made it to the top of the stairs when he called me back down. Apparently new rules and regulations called for our chimney to have a lining before he could install a new water heater. The rules apparently came into effect about twelve years ago–our water heater was more than twenty years old. The new rules safeguard against carbon monoxide, so there was no getting around them.

So……….we had to have a chimney liner put in. It was late Saturday afternoon. Sunday, of course was a no go, and Monday was Family Day (in Ontario).  Tuesday, the guys came to put in the liner, but it was too big, so we had to wait until Wednesday to have the work done with the right size liner. In the meantime we got two big pots out and boiled water on the top of the stove, and got our kettle going every time a bath was to be had. Just so you know, if you want more than a tepid bath, it takes about 6 large pots of boiling water and three kettles full. And then it is only a little more than warm.

I decided that I did not really need to wash my hair as I had no big important meetings or lunches or dinners to go to—so I swept my hair up in a ponytail and got quite good at sponge baths. Must admit, I had a pretty good excuse to do as little laundry as possible (yes, I know there are cold water laundry detergents, but that is not the point). Doing dishes was another hurdle, but a few kettles of boiling water pretty well took care of them.

Water heater sm (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

On Wednesday night the water heater fellow showed up at around 6:30 and put in our brand new water heater. He was exceptionally nice, and when I told him to call me if he needed anything—he did not call me. Which was a good thing.  The five day saga had ended. Now we had a new liner in our chimney, a new water heater, hot water, and no carbon monoxide poisoning. What more could one ask for?

Hot water is a lovely thing. A glorious thing. Something we so take for granted. Now in my prayers before I go to sleep at night I “God bless” all my family and friends and my new water heater. No joke.

Have you ever found your bliss in something everyday that was taken away from you?