| 'The Beanster'. And a friend. |
Friday, April 8, 2022
Baby Names
Thursday, April 7, 2022
Talking to the Inanimate
Ah…the three-year-olds’ view of the world…
Just arrived at Gramma’s
house.
So much to see and do!
There’s the dog to play with.
Toys.
Yummies to sample.
And games to play with
cousins.
But first, the
all-important shedding of the all-important winter coat.
(It IS spring in Northern
Alberta!)
Small grunts that turn to
larger grunts.
Then… “Mom! This zipper’s
not listening to me!”
Wednesday, April 6, 2022
Angels
Tuesday, April 5, 2022
Library Crime
I also love to read.
Ahem . . .
Monday, April 4, 2022
Me
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| Me--exposed. |
Though there are things I like to do…
I love to write, I’m sure you know,
‘Well crafted’ really makes me glow,
And reading’s great, my second thing,
Especially with a mystery’s zing,
I love to walk and swimming’s fun,
And sitting in the summer sun,
Playing with my grandkids, wow!
I’d do it anytime (or how),
Eating out with friends; yes, please,
From pancakes to Vietnamese,
Or meals at home with fam’ly, friends,
Where mealtime never, ever ends,
Movies with my Husby, yes!
Any ‘Marvel’, I confess,
I love to sit and reminisce,
And storytelling brings me bliss,
Lego-making; that I love,
It gives those sad ol’ blues the shove,
And puzzles (that love from my dad
Wherein we spent what time we had),
I like to cook, it gives me glee,
I like to clean, I’m OCD,
I’m not a shopper, don’t like sports,
I am a homebody of sorts,
But I love people in my life,
I try hard to lessen strife,
(A little kindness, Mama taught
Will help with someone’s pain a lot),
I laugh a bunch (perhaps too much),
But life is great with a light touch,
All these, I said I like to do,
Well. Or not. I leave to you.
But imperfections, they abound,
(Please know that I am well. And sound!)
But Husby made a sweet confession..
He loves my ‘Delightful Imperfections’!
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| Photo Credit: Karen of bakinginatornado.com |
With poetry, we all besought
To try to make the week begin
With gentle thoughts,
Perhaps a grin?
So Karen, Charlotte, Mimi, me
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you’ve read what we have wrought…
Did we help?
Or did we not?
Topics for the next few weeks (with a huge thank-you to Mimi, who comes up with so many of them!)...
Imperfection (April 4) Today!
Pets (April 11)
Juggling (April 18)
Brothers (April 25)
Babies (May 2)
Music (May 9)
Purple for Peace (May 16)
Turtles (May 23)
Memorial Day (May 30)
Yo-yo (June 6)
Roller Coaster (June 13)
World Refugee Day (June 20)
The Happy Birthday song (June 27)
Saturday, April 2, 2022
The Power of Positivity
There were tears.
Friday, April 1, 2022
97
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| Grandpa Stringam and his seven sons. Dad is the little guy in the front. |
Thursday, March 31, 2022
Early Spell-Checker
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| Speller extraordinaire |
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| Speller less extraordinaire |
Our second son is, in many ways, like his father.
Wednesday, March 30, 2022
Waiting...
March goes. A wave good-bye, she earns,
And April comes, and hope returns
That soon we'll see some warmth and sun
And know that springtime has begun.
When colour will return anew,
And leaves come back and flowers poke through.
The grass turn green. The song of bird
Throughout the warming air be heard.
When soft and pristine breezes blow,
And places, then, to see. And go.
The doors and windows, closed so long,
Are opened wide to catch Spring's song . . .
It's here, you know, that airy Spring,
When bells ring out and songbirds sing,
There's warmth and joy and sunlight's gleam
And spring has sprung--cause I can dream.
Sigh.

And April comes, and hope returns
That soon we'll see some warmth and sun
And know that springtime has begun.
When colour will return anew,
And leaves come back and flowers poke through.
The grass turn green. The song of bird
Throughout the warming air be heard.
When soft and pristine breezes blow,
And places, then, to see. And go.
The doors and windows, closed so long,
Are opened wide to catch Spring's song . . .
It's here, you know, that airy Spring,
When bells ring out and songbirds sing,
There's warmth and joy and sunlight's gleam
And spring has sprung--cause I can dream.
Sigh.
- Winter
- Fool’s Spring
- Second Winter
- False Spring
- Third Winter
- Spring?
- Thought It Was Spring, But It Was Winter Again
- Muck
- Spring
- Summer (1 week, while you’re at work)
- Mosquitoes And Potholes. Also Wasps
- Fall
- Winter?
- We’re Damned Lucky That Fall Has Lasted This Long
- Winter
Tuesday, March 29, 2022
Swim Champ
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| Front to back: George, Me, Chris, Jerry, Dad and Blair. Look closely. Can you pick out the intrepid swimmer? |
We simply lived too far from the city (Lethbridge) for it to be a priority. Or even possible.
But I loved to swim.
And, with the river in such close proximity, did it a lot.
In the summer.
In winter, for obvious reasons, we were pretty much shut out.
Then, someone of great intelligence from the town came up with a fantastic idea.
Why not hire a schoolbus and cart a load of kids to Lethbridge once a week?
It was genius!
Swimming lessons had become a reality.
I was going!
The bus ride was a treat. I wasn't confined to my usual fourth row back and Kathy had a portable record-player, which she kept going the entire trip.
Do you have any idea how many times you can listen to the Surfaris 'Wipe-Out' in a fifty-mile bus ride? Answer: A few.
The bus deposited us safely in front of the Civic Center and we scrambled madly for the door and the change rooms, then poured out into the main pool room.
We were ready.
The teachers began to sort us into groups, using a list of highly-specialized criteria.
How old are you? Are you afraid of the water? Have you ever taken swimming lessons before? What colour is your swimsuit?
Do you like boys?
Finally they had us, more or less, categorized.
I had never taken swimming lessons, so I was inserted into the beginners class.
“Okay, kids. See if you can put your face into the water.”
Woohoo! Compliance! I took off like a seal.
“Okay. You! Little girl in the blue swimsuit!” Sigh. “Would someone please fish her out?”
Have I mentioned that I like water?
“Are you sure you've never had lessons?”
Head shake.
“Well, I'm moving you up to the next level.”
Okay.
And so it went.
By the time we were finished our one-hour lesson, I had been . . . promoted . . . seven times.
It must have been some sort of record, to go from the beginner level to the 'Junior Lifeguard' level.
In one lesson.
Who could have known that all my flailing and thrashing around like a demented fish had actually been getting me somewhere.
Or that, in the still water of a pool, with no current to fight, I could actually make headway.
Really fast headway.
Jerry (the only member of my family who could fight the river's current and win), eat your heart out.
Because miracles do happen.
I was suddenly the soggy and triumphant queen of my little, watery world.
It didn't happen often.
But it was a very good feeling.
Monday, March 28, 2022
No Cat Stew
I love cats, you know I do,
They’re smart. And entertaining, too,
Sometimes, they just don’t think things through,
Or fail when trying to construe,
But give you something fun to view…
To drapes and screens, they stick like glue,
Have inconvenient timing, true,
Mess up the portrait you just drew,
Or bid your brand new rug adieu,
Your hugs and kisses they eschew,
Until the times when they want to,
Beneath your window, half-past two,
Loving, fighting right on cue,
Until you’d like to throw a shoe,
And think you’d rather have a gnu,
But I think you would be so blue,
If you didn’t have your ‘baby boo’,
You’d have to find a nice way to
Be entertained by something new,
So, here’s to cats, I’ve known a few,
I love their ways and their miscues,
Love watching antics on ‘YouTube’,
But one more thing and then I’m through…
Love most that they belong to you!
P.S....
An edict from King Richard 2,
Forbade the eating of your Mew,
So when your setting down to chew...
Don't add 'puddy tat' to your stew!
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| Photo Credit: Karen of bakinginatornado.com |
With poetry, we all besought
To try to make the week begin
With gentle thoughts,
Perhaps a grin?
So Karen, Charlotte, Mimi, me
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you’ve read what we have wrought…
Did we help?
Or did we not?
Topics for the next few weeks (with a huge thank-you to Mimi, who comes up with so many of them!)...
Respect Your Cat Day (March 28) (Richard II's 1384 edict forbidding eating them.) Today!
Imperfection (April 4)
Pets (April 11)
Juggling (April 18)
Brothers (April 25)
Babies (May 2)
Music (May 9)
Purple for Peace (May 16)
Turtles (May 23)
Memorial Day (May 30)
Yo-yo (June 6)
Roller Coaster (June 13)
World Refugee Day (June 20)
The Happy Birthday song (June 27)
Friday, March 25, 2022
Collecting
We all have things we like a lot,
From shoes to pens, salt shakers. Pots,
Those things for which we’ve great affections,
Will often end up in collections.
Our DIL has got a spot
For hippos. Them, she loves a lot!
My aunt saved shakers: pepper, salt,
There, on display, she would exalt.
And Husby gathers statues, true,
Each carved of wood—of wooden hue,
He also has a game of chess,
From every place we’ve been, I’d guess.
My dad had clocks: handmade and fine,
My mom had recipes divine,
My sister: beaus; my girlfriend: clothes,
A neighbour: finest books of prose.
One thing I’ll point out—yes, I must,
Is this: collections gather dust,
Now, if you love them, you don’t mind,
But that’s just not how I’m designed!
So my collection’s not like theirs,
No using dusters fine as hairs,
No need to re-arrange and shift,
No rejects to retire, re-gift.
I think that mine’s the best of all,
With figures short and figures tall,
Of diff’rent colours, weights. (And lids…)
The things that I love most—my kids!
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| Part of my collection... |
Thursday, March 24, 2022
Clipped
Large.
Effective.
Those suckers could cut through anything.
Well almost anything.
They had sat atop her dresser in a special spot for all of my life.
I had watched Mom use them on numerous occasions. Seated on a chair, one ankle cross over the other knee for convenience and leverage.
Always with a garbage pail beneath in case of accidental drop-age/escape-age.
Followed by the steady sound of clip-age.
Then mom would get to her feet, restore the garbage to its rightful corner, and return those great, heavy clippers back to their place.
Until next time.
And there they sat.
Now, I had borrowed these clippers from time to time.
Usually when I had misplaced my own.
Because mine didn't have a place of honour on my dresser.
Or anywhere, for that matter . . .
Now, that day:
Erm...I was somewhere far out in the pasture! Doing the things I was supposed to be doing!
Not in my parents room snooping around for Christmas presents!
Or at least that's the story I always told my mom.
Ahem.
And it wasn't me who took a straight pin from the pincushion which also resided atop Mom's dresser and tried to clip it with her clippers.
Just to see what would happen.
Resulting in a gap in the very center of the smooth edge of said clippers.
Because--just FYI--in a contest between straight pins and clippers, straight pins win.
To the truth.
A little late, but there you are.
I'm telling you this so you don't have to watch your mom, to the end of her days, clip her toenails with a defective set of clippers.
Wednesday, March 23, 2022
Marked Green
Mommy was working at her desk in her office.
Little Girl (hereinafter known as LG) was playing at her little craft table in the next room.
Now, I should probably mention, here, that LG was (and still is) NOT one of those children who got into things. Nope. She was/is a 'rules' sort of person. She liked to know them.
And, on occasion, reinforce them—especially to any other children in the vicinity.
Also, as an only child, she entertained herself with admirable skill.
Sooo . . . back to my story.
Mommy: Desk.
LG: Standing in the doorway.
"Mommy?"
"Hmmm?"
"Mommy?"
"Hmmm?"
"Mommy?"
"What is it?"
Okay, now she had mommy's attention. "Mommy, this happened."
Mommy turned around.
LG was holding up her left hand.
Which has been covered, wrist to fingertips, in green marker.
"LG (not her real name) what did you do?!"
"I'm sorry. It just happened."
"Your entire hand got coloured in green marker."
"Ummm . . . yeah."
"How did it happen?"
"I did it."
"Why?"
A shrug. "I just . . . wanted to."
"You wanted to colour your entire hand."
"Yeah."
Mommy was getting a little lost. "But . . . why?"
Another shrug.
"What has Mommy said about drawing on yourself?"
"Not to do it."
"So . . . why did you do it?"
A third shrug.
"Let's go and wash, shall we. Then I think we'll have to put the markers away for a while so we can think about this."
"Okay!"
And here's what we take away from this:
I’m sure you’ve seen people out in the world who do seemingly inexplicable things. Things that make you stare at them and think to yourself: Really? You're going to go with that? Did you even think about this at all?!
Those things?
Yeah, it's still inexplicable.
Tuesday, March 22, 2022
Spray Your Bears Away!
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| Hold your breath! |
Monday, March 21, 2022
Two Little Butts
The rhythm. The rhyme. The emotion.
And what better way could there be to salute poetry than by...writing...poetry.
Their parents were all in the cast or backstage,
Their grandparents, too, with the play were engaged.
Two little girls in the large gallery,
Two last little sprigs on their family’s tree,
Had grown bored with the play they had seen from Day One.
That first day was great! The rest, not so fun.
They’d watched scenes through first blocking and all incarnations,
Knew all of the songs and heard all the Orations.
And while those in the room were still fixed on the show,
Running sound and effects. Lights above and below,
Two little girls weren’t attentive at all,
They wanted to run. They wanted to crawl.
They did not want to sit in their chairs quietly,
They wanted to dance, laugh and giggle. Times three.
But Grampa, just sitting there, manning the lights,
Had to keep ‘shushing’ his two little mites.
And then in an effort to give them a scare,
Vowed to tape their two little butts to their chairs.
Two little girls sat down quietly then,
But those silly old wiggles soon started again.
And then Grampa, still working the lighting board’s keys
Heard a sweet little voice, and it said, "Grampa, please—
We’ve done all that mom sent for we two to share,
Grampa, please, could you tape both our butts to the chair?"
Every day we learn something, and today, here is one:
When is a threat not a threat? When it’s fun!
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| Photo Credit: Karen of bakinginatornado.com |
With poetry, we all besought
To try to make the week begin
With gentle thoughts,
Perhaps a grin?
So Karen, Charlotte, Mimi, me
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you’ve read what we have wrought…
Did we help?
Or did we not?
Topics for the next few weeks (with a huge thank-you to Mimi, who comes up with so many of them!)...
Celebrating Poetry (March 21) Today!
Respect Your Cat Day (March 28) (Richard II's 1384 edict forbidding eating them.)
Imperfection (April 4)
Pets (April 11)
Juggling (April 18)
Brothers (April 25)
Babies (May 2)
Music (May 9)
Purple for Peace (May 16)
Turtles (May 23)
Memorial Day (May 30)
Roller Coaster (June 13)
World Refugee Day (June 20)
The Happy Birthday song (June 27)



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