Sweeping Clean the Corners

Granny’s Porch, where she and I shelled peas, sitting on wooden kitchen chairs, after picking them from the garden down the road. How sweet the peas tasted; I still love peas.

Sleep has been catching up with me; last night’s deep, sound sleep was very welcome.

Life is very quiet at the moment. So quiet that the passing of the road grater is a big event! It certainly is a noisy event. The weekend approaches, and by the end of today the SUVs will be teeming along the roads at breakneck speed, heading for their “wilderness” sanctuaries. The relentless hum of motors will fill the backspaces of sound, as the big boats dart hither and thither across the waterways, going nowhere in particular.

There is no current interest from buyers, in our country house (the conditional offer fell through). There is no news from the township, about an access permit for the camp. Those are the big ticket items on time and money, in our lives at the moment, and both seem dormant. They will both require a continued investment in my least favourite activity… waiting.

Mist is celebrating life by sleeping away most of the day, and much of the night. Her favourite times of the day are first thing in the morning, just after we awaken, and last thing in the evening, as we sit on the sofa chatting before sleep claims us all. She sits quietly every morning, waiting for her milk bowl to be filled, the blinds to be opened, the food dish to be topped up, and all the water bowls to be filled. In the evening she sits between Attila and I on the sofa. She turns her head toward Attila, expecting and receiving an affectionate pet, then she turns her head toward me, expecting and receiving three little whistle blows near her ears, three little puffs of air and a hint of sound for her deaf ears. Her purring becomes deeper and louder as the she turns from one of us to the other, over and over, until she curls up in that warm space between us, and sleeps, still purring.

So the days pass. Attila works, long hours, hard hours. I clean, work on my digital projects, research possibilities on the internet, cook, get through the long inactive hours with a minimum of discomfort.

This morning the music of Hildegard von Bingen fills the empty space left when the road grater has slowly moved on to smooth the surfaces of other byways.

I has been raining now for several days. Today the humidity is a miserable 90%. We thought the mosquitoes were wicked bad last Sunday at the camp, but Attila says they are worse now. I watch from behind the blessed screens that allow the fresh air in, and keep the minuscule marauders out.

I am thinking about lists this morning. I need lists to keep my interest in the physical world going. It would be effortless for me to drift away, in my thoughts, visiting my internal worlds that are so rich, so enticing. I do enjoy the physical plane, but it cannot hold my interest for very long. If I have a list of things to do, then I can tie my balloon to it, check off the items as they are accomplished, and still flutter in the breeze of lateral thinking. It has always been this way. I am more aware that it is not like this for everyone, now that I am older.

With all this time alone, there are moments when discouragement creeps into the way of the world. Progress has been made of course, over the years, as despair seems to have been permanently routed. Having made it into my senior years, I feel that in doing so I have accomplished much, making despair redundant in my life. Discouragement though, keeps accumulating, unseen in unused corners of my mind, until suddenly it seems to overtake the known world. It needs constant, regular housekeeping, does discouragement. Like the doing of dishes, the making of beds, and the brushing of teeth, the sweeping out of discouragement needs doing on a regular basis. All is clear for the moment!

Worldly Distractions


Date: 10:43 AM EDT Friday 13 June 2014
Condition: Cloudy
Pressure: 100.8 kPa
Visibility: 16 km
Temperature: 15.1°C
Dewpoint: 13.6°C
Humidity: 90%
Wind: W 8 km/h


“If I find 10,000 ways something won’t work, I haven’t failed. I am not discouraged, because every wrong attempt discarded is another step forward.”
Thomas A. Edison (1847 – 1931)

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