Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Full House

By request.
Because the nest is still full . . .
The nest was clean
            And tidy, too.
There wasn’t much
            I had to do.
It stayed that way
            From dawn to dawn.
Had been like that
            Since the chicks had gone.

But it hadn’t always
            Been just so,
When chicks would come
            And chicks would go,
When clutter ruled
            When ‘mess’ was norm,
When noise began
            With the dewy morn.

I found myself,
            Each day, awash
In dirty dishes,
            Stinky socks.
Up to my knees
            In diapers, too
When days were full
            And the nest was, too.

When every evening
            Prayers were said,
And kisses, hugs
As they went to bed.
Then flopped, exhausted,
            In the chair,
And contemplated
            Life from there.

And though it seemed
            It’d never end.
Somehow it did,
As all things tend.
And the nest that never
            Took a bow,
Echoed with
            The silence now.

But then, one day
            The door swung wide,
And chicks and chicklets
            Stepped inside.
“We’re here to stay,
            If that’s okay.”
Once more, there’s action
            every day.

Once more I live
            With clutter, there,
And no bare spaces
And noise? Whoo-boy!
            You have to know,
That lungs’re the very first
            Things to grow.

The toys are spread
            From here to there.
And chicklets playing
And meals to make
            And clothes to mend
And schedules to
Draw and blend.

And, still, with all
            The noise and strain
And problems bouncing
            In my brain,
With things to do,
            And time to share,
And chicklets falling
            Down the stair.

That I would never
            Want at all,
The spotless house,
The quiet halls.
Exchange the action
            That resides
Or change the love
            That dwells inside.

I’ve learned you don’t need
            Silence, no.
When people come
            And people go.
There’s peace in every
            Busy day.
When chicks and chicklets
            Come your way.

With hugs and kisses
            You abound
And love is shining
            All around.
And never can your
            Life be dull,
‘Cause, once again
            The nest is full.


  1. Oh, I really loved this one and can relate to it all. This is an awesome poem; thanks for sharing your great talent. Hugs!

  2. I'm going to remember this lovely poem - my nest will be empty next year but I'm definitely counting on them coming back!

  3. I love this, it's so sweet.
    My chick took her chicklets to the other grandparents more because their other, older son lived in Chile, so they didn't get to see grandchildren much until my girl had babies.

  4. I'm waiting on the twins to get here so this couldn't have come at a better time! Loved this!


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Diane was born and raised on one of the last of the great old Southern Alberta ranches. A way of life that is fast disappearing now. Through her memories and stories, she keeps it alive. And even, at times, accurate . . .

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