Category Archives: Just for Fun
I spent the weekend at a friend’s cottage. On Saturday morning as I read my book in the sun, an object helicoptered out of the sky and landed on my page.
I took time to examine it closely. The maple key looked like a feathered wing.
After lunch I sat with our friends to enjoy a drink. A dark dragonfly landed on my arm and stood out in contrast to the white shirt I was wearing. I appreciated its presence and examined the wings closely until it flew away. I didn’t expect the visit, so I didn’t have a camera handy, but this photograph by Kirsten Pauli will give you the idea.
The sky on Sunday morning looked like this.
I took some time to appreciate three simple gifts of wings from nature. I felt rich.
The glass that had held my drink on Saturday afternoon read, “To be rich is no longer a sin; it’s a miracle.” I dislike the word sin and I don’t really believe in it, but I might be convinced to believe in the miracle of the gift of wings.
The newel knob of our banister is a catch-all for items of clothing, headphones and strappy purses. Yesterday, those items coincidentally fell into place so it looked like we had a new family member.
I posted the picture on my Facebook feed and immediately received suggestions to give our creation a name. All of us picked up a “he” vibe even though the scarf and hat belong to my daughter. Stumpy, Lanister, and Billy Bannister were some ideas. A clever friend suggested Roger to pay homage to the runner.
Cows with names make more milk, so there must be something to the idea that to be named is to be worthy of love. We name or pets, cars, boats, and stuffed animals. When we name them we make them part of our family, and we love them.
If we number things things—or people—on the other hand, it deems them unworthy of love, dehumanizes them. The Nazis knew this.
When we bestow a name, when we take time to ponder possibilities, filter through meanings, and find just the right feeling, it is an act of love.
For some reason, I found the name Philip hilarious. Welcome to our family Philip Banister. I can tell you’re the kind of guy who has never relied on looks to get by so you developed a killer sense of humour. I expect we’ll have lots of laughs together.
I’d love to hear about the named things you love.
This is where I am this week.
This is what I’m doing this week.
This is what my family is doing this week. Not me, I don’t like maple syrup. Yuck.
This is what I will eat this week. I don’t like maple syrup, but I do love St. Hubert chicken.
A ski trip—and some St. Hubert chicken—to refill the well.
Today’s topic brought to you by: 300 Writing Prompts.
My son and his girlfriend teamed up and their brainstorming led to this book as one of my Christmas gifts. It contains three hundred ideas to set me (and you) thinking. I flipped through it this morning.
I passed by “What color do you feel like today?” (Blue, but in the good way. Not much more to say about that.)
I turned the page quickly from “How clean is your house now?” Not going there.
I landed on “What is something you learned in the past few days?”
I thought back to the scrap of paper left lying about on one of the desks at one of the places where I work. (I have too many jobs, really.) Someone had written the word OBSTREPEROUS in well-spaced capital letters. I picked the paper up. “What’s this about?” I asked.
A co-worker, whose first language is not English, said, “What does it mean?”
I thought about this. I had heard the word before and I could take a stab at a definition, but when it came right down to it I had to confess that I wasn’t sure. “I think it means grumpy,” I said. “I’ll look it up.”
I searched Oxford Dictionaries and came up with: “Noisy and difficult to control.”
“Ah,” I said. “I understand how I was confused. People who are obstreperous make other people grumpy.”
Why was OBSTREPEROUS lying around on the work station? I would tell you, but thinking about it makes me a little grumpy.
What have you learned in the past few days?
During our renovation we peeled back the layers of our kitchen and made some discoveries.
We uncovered the original wallpaper from the 1960s that had lurked behind our cupboards all along.
When we knocked out a pantry, we found tile of the same vintage.
Removing some drywall showed us it that had never been properly attached to 2 x 4s as crooked as Wayne Gretzky’s hockey stick.
We also found inadequate insulation and . . . creative . . . electrical wiring. Our kitchen had worn a costume that covered up unseen details and flaws.
A beautiful costume is important, but it’s only as good as what’s below the surface. At Hallowe’en we are fixing all the problems and preparing a new costume for a brighter, more open, more functional and safer kitchen.
When it’s finished, we’ll love the new costume—and what’s below the surface too.