Three Things I Like

Women’s Wide Leg Weekend Chino Cropped Pants from Land’s End are comfortable.

Lundberg Family Farms Rice Chips in Sesame Seaweed are yummy.

Flying Pig Paper Animation Kits are fun!

I Didn’t

blog today but Sylvain did.

A Gentle Day

I woke up with abdominal pain.  I think my fibroids were duking it out with the digestion of last evening’s high-fibre snack. Not enough room in the abdominal cavity for both.  I just wanted to lie down again after my shower and didn’t want anyone talking to me.  My initial response when Sylvain approached my side of the bed was to growl like a rabid animal.  But then I realized he was asking me if I needed anything… could he bring me breakfast in bed? Coffee? Tea?

“No thank you,” I said as my defensive posture melted.

“Drugs?” he asked in a tender and caring way. (Do you get the picture that Sylvain is THE sweetest boyfriend EVER?)

No, not yet, I said, crawling under the covers, having decided not to get up.

“Ok, wait. Maybe yes…drugs. Do we have any ibuprofen?”

An hour or two later I awoke with no more pain and with Sylvain once again in the bedroom, this time asking me if I wanted to accompany him on an outing. He wanted to explore Holiday Beach.

I surprised us both by agreeing to ride along, and I’m glad I did. Part of me wanted to stay burrowed in the dark bedroom all day, but fortunately a wise voice told me to go get some fresh air and sunshine. After all, this is the weather we’ve been WAITING FOR for months and months and months.

The beach was quiet with only a couple of families with dogs and kids and plenty of unoccupied beach in between.  The sun was shining down on the marsh, a few clouds in the blue sky.  We saw lots of Mute Swans, Great Egrets, Great Blue Herons, Canada Geese on nests and with goslings. I was able to show Sylvain his first Brown Thrasher (a pair, to be exact) kicking about in the sand, strewing leaves everywhere.

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My local Bulk Barn just started carrying Chia seeds. Did you know they were the 3rd most important crop to the Aztecs, behind corn and beans but ahead of amaranth? They contain even more Omega-3 than flax seeds. I got some to put into my homemade gluten-free muesli and just out of curiosity to see how they taste.  Ok, I don’t recommend them for cold cereal. When liquid hits them, they begin a rapid transformation into tiny gelatinous blobs. This makes them a good ingredient for porridge and puddings but not so good for cold cereal–if you ask me. Which you didn’t.

I am eager to go get more, however, so I can have a refreshing super energy drink that Mexicans know as “chia fresca.”  You take a spoonful of seeds, add water, lemon and sugar (or Stevia in my case) and let it sit for 10 minutes then stir.  I can’t wait to see if it really does give me an energy boost. I’ll let  you know.

Chicken or the Egg?

I found these online while searching for something else.

Symptoms of Inner Peace

1. A tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than on fears of past experiences.
2. An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment.
3. A loss of interest in judging other people.
4. A loss of interest in interpreting the actions of others.
5. A loss of the ability to worry.
6. Frequent, overwhelming episodes of appreciation.
7. Contented feelings of connectedness with others and nature.
8. Frequent episodes of smiling.
9. Letting things happen instead of forcing things to happen.
10. A willingness to be vulnerable and show emotions.
11. A giving and receiving of love without strings attached.

Author unknown

Why I Don’t Blog When I Don’t Blog

These days I inhabit one of two worlds. For days or weeks at a time, I am dominated by ego. This is not a fun world to inhabit. Ego convinces me that I have all sorts of problems that I myself must solve. It reminds me of innumerable mistakes I’ve made and ways I have screwed up my once oh-so-perfect life.

When I am in that state, I’m not too proud of myself for sinking to that, for letting ego get the better of me with his fear-mongering, anxiety-producing tales. I don’t want to blog when I’m in that state. I don’t want to proliferate the toxic cloud, the BS, don’t want to give Mr. Ego any air time. Oh, he’d love that.

Then, once in a while, Glorious Merciful Universe sends me a blessing, a treasure, a lifeline. This week it is coming in the form of Wherever You Go There You Are by Jon Kabat-Zinn.

When one of these golden flying carpets slips magically under my butt, I sail smoothly into the other world. Problems pop like soap bubbles, illusions that they are. My heart soars. A small and private smile finds its way back to my lips.

And then I don’t reach for the laptop because I don’t want it to end, don’t want to give ego an inroad.

So…   yeah.

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Excellent dreams last night. I dreamed I had a new job at a large Canadian insurance underwriter and I was going to help them with process improvement.  Another dream scene from the same night: I lived right across from a water park and I realized it was silly of me to turn my nose up at this public pool with its screaming kids and snow cones while yearning for white beaches because …because THIS is what is right across the street from where I live. So go enjoy it, swim there every day. You won’t always live here…maybe one day there will be white beaches. But for now, fully accept your reality and make the best of it.

I Love Firsts

Thanks to the thoughtfulness of Mark next door, I will be cooking fresh wild morels today for the first time.

Listen

Human Being has put a poetic challenge on her site. I’m not sure I understand the rules, but here goes anyway.

Beneath a pile of rocks

lie blessings.

Listen.

The earth survives

grateful for another breath.

Listen.

Childlike, the rocks resonate understanding.

Earth and rocks

grateful tapestry

appreciating.

My self.

My breath.

Beneath a pile of rocks

lie blessings.

Listen.

Sunburned and Alive

The winter was so long. I gained weight. I slept a lot. I got stiff and out of shape, pasty white and lethargic.

Not unlike a grub dormant in the cold earth.

Today, though.

Today I am so glad I let Sylvain talk me into a day trip to Point Pelee. How could we not go? It’s peak migration and we live an hour away. We have an annual family pass to the park. Feeling despondent or not, I couldn’t say “nah.”

Do you know what a migrant trap is? If you look at migration routes for the Americas, you can see that a major flyway passes right over the Great Lakes. Many birds are hungry and tired when they spot the first bit of land jutting out into Lake Erie. And so they land, rest, and feed before continuing the journey to their breeding ground. Some stay and nest right there in the park.

When we arrived, Sylvain asked me which trail I wanted to do. “I don’t care,” I said. I lost my appetite for birding a few years ago when I no longer had a car and so couldn’t get out in the bush when I felt like it. My identification skills are rusty. As any perfectionist, even a recovering perfectionist, can attest…once you’re no longer at the top of your game, that game doesn’t seem as fun anymore. In fact, my once vast ornithological library has now been whittled and Freecycled down to one old field guide held together with duct tape.

I didn’t know Sylvain had said a little prayer. He so hoped something would happen to make it fun for me. We decided it was prudent to park near the visitor centre, as those prime parking spots would go fast.

“Do you want to take the tram to the point?” Sylvain asked me.

“Whatever you want,” I said. The trolley left in 20 minutes, so I meandered across the grass while Sylvain held our place in line.

When I looked back, an older gentleman sitting on a bench was talking to him. I wandered back and joined the conversation.

“You’ve just arrived?” he asked us. We confirmed this.

“I’ve been here for three days,” he said. “If you really want to see some stuff, go 10 minutes down the Woodland Trail. You’ll get Prothonotary, Black-throated Green, Blackburnian…”

“Let’s do THAT!” I said. Sylvain smiled.

“You’ll know you’re there when you see a knot of people all stopped on a bridge,” our angel added.

Here is our list of sightings for the half day we spent in the park:

Mourning Dove, Brown-headed Cowbird, two Rose-breasted Grosbeaks either mating or fighting and making the sneaker on the gym floor sound, Yellow Warbler, Common Grackle, White-throated Sparrow, White-crowned Sparrow, Chipping Sparrow, Northern Oriole, Orchard Oriole, Red-winged Blackbird, Pine Warbler (all by the visitor centre).

On the Woodland Trail we got: Northern Cardinal by ear, Grey Catbird by ear, Black-throated Green Warbler singing and posing for the camera, Black and White Warbler, Chestnut-sided Warbler, Blackburnian Warbler, Magnolia Warbler, Prothonotary Warbler, a female Cerulean Warbler (lifebird for me), Northern Waterthrush, Black-throated Blue Warbler, Ruby-crowned Kinglet, Wood Thrush by ear, Carolina Wren by ear, American Redstart, Red-breasted Nuthatch, Yellow-rumped Warbler, Veery, Turkey Vulture, Blue Jay, Downy Woodpecker, Red-Tailed Hawk, female Scarlet Tanager and an American Robin on her nest.

In the beach area across the road from the visitor centre, we got Eastern Kingbird.

From the parking lot having a tail-gate picnic, we saw four Sandhill Cranes flying in the distance.

After lunch we went to the point and had Blue-grey Gnatcatcher, Red-breasted Merganser, Common Tern, Ring-billed Gull, Double-crested Cormorant, Barn Swallow, Tree Swallow.

At the marsh boardwalk we saw a pair of Canada Geese with young and Common Yellowthroat all through the marsh.

Driving out of the park we saw a Killdeer in flight.

I am sunburned and I am alive. I’d forgotten how being out in wind and sun, communing with nature leaves no room in the head for rumination.

I’d forgotten how darned friendly and kind birders are. Everyone smiles and says hello or bonjour as we pass each other on the path. We tell each other where the good birds are.

For Sylvain’s photos of today’s outing, go here.

If

If I don’t say much here on the blog, it is only because I don’t feel there is much of anything right now worth saying.

I also notice that the mere act of forming thoughts and words triggers ego.  Sometimes I prefer to remain in the realm of the nameless.

Floating.

Being.

Trusting.

The Goal

Had anyone told me a month ago I would have my head buried in a business management book, I’d have looked at him like he had three heads.  But I do.  I am reading Eli Goldratt’s The Goal and I am barely coming up for air…or to eat or sleep. I am just gobbling it up. I’ll have finished it by Sunday evening, at which point I’ll be hungry for his next book.

I started reading it on Amazon (first three or four pages you can read for free) and was hooked. How did I hear about it? That Big Dog who pulled me into a meeting a few weeks ago asked my new supervisor to read it. She asked me if I had ever read it or heard of the Theory of Constraints, which piqued my curiosity.