Listening to the dawn – and other lessons

Yesterday I had the privilege of attending a Nature Writing workshop with Deborah Carr. Our very first exercise was one of listening and truly hearing the sounds around us. Sitting on a chair in the woods near Trout Stream in the middle of Sussex it was a challenge to block out the roaring sounds of motorcycles, chain saws, dirt bikes and other people and hear the stream, the determined chirping of birds refusing to surrender to the sounds of civilization, and my own heart beat.

The second exercise involved viewing any found object in nature from the perspective of a small child. Since I spend a lot of my time with Hoover, for me it is easier to imagine looking at things from a dog’s perspective – and that adds an element of fun to the exploration.

When we walk together early each morning I try to grab a camera or at least my iPhone to gather memories of what we see. We are often out and about long before the sun peaks over the horizon, smelling the musty earth and waiting, with anticipation, for that firs glimpse of light on the horizon over the Picadilly hills. Once light appears, the mysteries hidden in the dark and mist are revealed – acres of dandelion fluff waiting for a breeze to send each seed forth on its journey – or into the house attached to Hoover’s long coat.

Sometimes, on our way home, as I glance back over my shoulder, the rising sun waves goodbye to us and invites us to return again early tomorrow – before the sounds of civilization intrude so once again we can listen to the sleepy chirping of the wakening birds.

Focus on Brainbuckets: International Helmet Awareness Day

Reblogged from Writing From the Right Side of the Stall:

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This is a subject that’s near and dear to my heart.  I’m exceedingly fond of my thus-far-intact skull, and as an eventer and a coach, I’m something of a helmet Nazi.  So I’m happy to spread this message to my stalwart, happy handful of readers.  Though I know I’m preaching to the choir, cuz you’re all smart like that, right?

Read more… 622 more words

Helmets, a good idea every ride every time!

What a wonderful week-end to rejuvenate the soul!

After years of enduring cold, wet, rainy, long week-ends in May, this year’s broke the mold and delivered warmth and sunshine!

For me, Saturday started out with a pre-dawn drive through the early morning mists in the hills leading into, and through, Fundy National Park.

Dawn breaking through the mists beside the Bay of Fundy as seen from the look-off in Fundy National Park, NB

Luckily I missed colliding with the young cow moose who was guarding the entrance to the park by standing in the middle of the road. Unluckily, I didn’t have quick and ready access to my camera to document the sighting.

I made my way to Riverside-Albert, site of the Albert County Early Horse Show. Run by volunteers, the show committee placed a lot of emphasis on having fun, camaraderie and affordability. As a result, there were about 80 horses entered and probably close to 100 riders. It was heart-warming to see so many young people participating as many of the more formal shows are experiencing a decline in entry numbers due to ever-increasing costs.

The youngest ones just wanted to have fun…

While others needed to keep in touch between classes…

Since my Dad’s family is from Albert Co., I took a break and drove up the road to visit my parents’ graves. The local cemetery was started in 1892, and I found stones showing relatives born as far back as 1818. And that was just in a few minutes of walking around. As cemeteries go, it’s a lovely spot with beautiful big trees and grand vistas overlooking Shepody Bay.

I even had the opportunity for a quick visit with a cousin who lives nearby – and the chance to make plans for a longer visit in the near future!

Sunday dawned warm and sunny as well. I took a quick jaunt to Norton to watch some friends ride in a hunter-jumper clinic with Alan Wedge. Originally from this general area, Alan now makes his home near Calgary, AB.

Under Alan’s watchful eye, riders like Hetty Smyth concentrated on the task at hand.

Meanwhile, at the Princess Louise Park Show Centre there was a dressage show going on. I dropped in and had great visits with various friends.

Tomorrow is another day and, I’m sure, more photo opportunities. Maybe I’ll even get some gardening done! Holiday week-ends are meant to give us a chance for the three R’s: rest, relaxation and rejuvenation.

Enjoy YOUR long week-end. I am.

Attitude Matters

On the West Coast of Canada, by mid-April, the trees are already laden with beautiful blossoms.

And, every street boasts a canopy of green…

A leafy green canopy shaded every residential street in the area

Every garden already offered a plethora of blossoms, common and exotic, to titillate the senses making every breath a sensuous experience.

Arriving in Vancouver after a 12-hour trek from the still-chilly Maritimes, finding Spring in full swing was a delight. Weary from the trip itself, I was refreshed by the warmth, colours and scents.

Normally, when I make my annual trip to Vancouver to see my son, daughter-in-law and two grandchildren, I camp on their hide-a-bed couch in the living room. But, since this year’s trip was to be a full ten days (less two travel days), I decided to splurge and stay at the Greystone Bed & Breakfast. This would accomplish two things – I could retreat and rest in comfort, peace and quiet (thus beginning each day refreshed and ready to go), and my family wouldn’t have the additional strain of having ‘Mom’, ‘the MIL’, Gramma underfoot 24/7 for 10 days in an already full apartment. The idea worked well.

My hosts at the B&B, Graham and Lee Laxton, were gracious and accommodating. Their 100+ year old home exuded charm and old fashioned comfort. Breakfasts were generous; the gardens gorgeous. My room was both cosy and efficient. The B&B is located in a quiet, residential neighbourhood making it ideal for my purposes – and only a pleasant, five-block walk from my grandkids!

The door to gracious living

A peaceful respite before, or after, a busy day

Charming from any angle, inside or out

Each room uniquely decorated. Mine was built around a ‘frog’ theme

The room across the hall sported a bright, floral and teddy bear theme

A comfortable home away from home

With these details out of the way, the scene was set for a great vacation in Vancouver. Previous trips had begun with unrealistic expectations about my role in the lives of my grand kidlets. I expected (and hoped) that they would respond to me with affection and enthusiasm. So I was sadly disappointed when this didn’t happen exactly as I had dreamt.

On this trip, I set out with an adjusted attitude: I was going to Vancouver on vacation – and that vacation included visiting the kids and grandkids – to relax and have fun. To my total surprise, and delight, it worked! I spent time with the family, some time with the grand kids both with, and without, their parents, time with friends, time exploring the city and time alone – all of it good. As a result, I was probably more relaxed around the grandkids and consequently we had fun together and perhaps built a bit of that bond that, as a grandmother, I crave.

Being “East Coast Gramma” (as the kids now call me) is tough. I’m too far away to be involved in their daily lives; too distant to be called upon to help or babysit; too far away at the end of too expensive a trip for them to come and visit me. So we have to define a slightly different relationship – one punctuated by an annual visit, cards and gifts on appropriate occasions, and periodic webcam visits via the internet.

How did distant grandparents cope before the advent of the internet and cheap long distance telephone rates? It is beyond my imagination!

We don’t connect often. The time difference and busy schedules at each end of this too-vast country makes it difficult to find a mutually convenient time. But we do connect one way or another.

Bi-coastal grandparenting is challenging at best – but it can be done and it can be satisfying when approached with the right expectations and a solid attitude adjustment.

Mothers

Mothers come in a variety of ages, sizes, colours and types. Some of us have one, some many, some none while growing up. Mothers may be the women who gave birth to us, the ones who raised us, older friends, older relatives or some other form of ‘mother’. But come what may, we’ve all had at least one.

Some of us are mothers ourselves, even grandmothers or beyond. Some are surrogate mothers to relatives or friends children or ‘aunties’ to those small people. Some give their mothering to “furbabies” – the pets who fill a void in their lives. Some mother in other ways.

Some mothers live with the unique, heart-wrenching pain that comes from losing a child before his or her time. Even when they have and love other children in their lives, there is still a special place in the expanding balloon of love for the child who has gone before.

This Mother’s Day, I wish us all a day filled with warmth and love.

Mum, (brother)Jerry and me

The Mum I grew up with

My son

My Grandkids

Tomorrow it’s all about Moms in all their iterations. Happy Mothers’ Day!

Some people make such a difference

just by being themselves.

Jim Kupkee (Lt. Col. James Eugene Kupkee) was one of those people.

I met Jim many years ago through a shared interest in all things equine. He was serving as ringmaster / announcer at one of the Dressage New Brunswick shows. A man who always had a smile on his face, he could cheer even rain-soaked competitors shivering the cold waiting for their turn to perform.

Once we competed together at a show held at the Gallaway Ridge Training Centre in Hampton. They hosted a “fossils” class for those of us well beyond the legal age to vote and I remember Jim riding an inventive dressage test, amusing fellow competitors and spectators alike.

In 2010 members of Dressage NB, spectators and visitors gathered at the Princess Louise Park Show Centre in Sussex, NB, following a day of competition, to celebrate Jim’s 80th birthday and to thank him for him many years of service to the sport and its members.

RIP Jim. You will be missed.

Mother Nature has a warped sense of humour

Yesterday I loaded up my new ‘mobile studio’

And head in to Sussex to spend a couple of hours on a photo walk with members of my 4-H Photo Project group. We visited two areas of interest to families with children and adolescents – the Skateboard Park on the edge of the Princess Louise Park

and the recently built and expanded

The object was for the group members to take a series of photographs that could be used in posters promoting these community assets – a way to appreciate and give back to the area where we all live and work.

At the same time the members had the opportunity to consider several photographic techniques – although they may not have been aware of it at the time. For those with DSLRs, we talked about adjusting white balance so colours on a cloudy day would be more realistically captured. And, we talked about composition and using photos to tell a story – beginning with broad and encompassing images and gradually narrowing those down to finer and finer detail. I can’t wait to see what the girls came up with!

Sometimes we all need to slow down and enjoy a child’s-eye view of the universe.

And then Mother Nature woke up this morning and played a cruel joke on us all…

Weather really only enjoyed by snow-loving pooches.

Happy Easter Everyone!

 

 

Safe flight, little hero

We met just two years ago but this wonderful little boy and his family quickly carved out a place in my heart. Nathan was born with “Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome” which essentially means he was functioning with half a heart. When he was mere days old he had the first of several open heart surgeries.

As a photographer with the Littlest Heroes organization I met these wonderful people when I went to their home to capture family portraits for them. When then eighteen-month-old Nathan first saw me coming through the door with my big, black camera bag, he hid shyly behind his mother. He thought I was yet another visiting nurse come to subject him to more needles, treatments and examinations.

So, together we sat on the floor and examined the contents of my bag – cameras, lenses, a flash unit and so on. Once that mystery had been solved Nathan was more than happy to play with me and let me shoot endless numbers of photos of him and his family.

And in minutes I had fallen in love with this beautiful, happy, charming and loving child.

Nathan’s whole family, mother, father, grandparents adored this little hero who so bravely withstood all of the medical treatments and medications he needed just to get through each day. Every day that he woke up and smiled was a blessing indeed.

And smile he did, ensnaring the hearts of all who met him. At three he was still a little charmer, adored by his parents, family, friends and all who met him.

And then his parents gave him another gift of love; a little sister, Jenna.

Once again I had the privilege of capturing more cherished memories for this family, now a group of four.

This handsome little hero had more challenges in his short life than could ever be considered fair, and yet he kept laughing, giggling and loving as only a special little boy could do.

Last week he returned to the IWK for yet another surgery. With a heavy heart and tears on my cheeks I read a short entry on Facebook this morning from Nathan’s mother Sue. With what must have been a herculean effort for her, she wrote that she, “is absolutely 100% completely heartbroken. Fly high little man. ♥”

Nathan lost the battle this time and gained his angel wings.

My thoughts and prayers go out to Susan, Todd, Jenna and their family and friends. There are no words to heal the hole left in everyone’s hearts and lives by the loss of a true little hero.

Farewell Nathan. You will be missed.

Of love, and loss, and saying “I care”

For one of the easiest (weather-wise) winters in recent memory, this has been one of the most trying times for some friends of mine. Two wonderfully creative ladies (one a writer, one an artist) lost their life partners unexpectedly and tragically, leaving them bereft in the coldness of winter. Both felt the need to ‘be productive’ and ‘get on with life’ as quickly as possible, despite the fact that their lives had been torn asunder and devastated by the loss of, as each of them described their partners, “my soul mate”. How quickly can you recover? You can’t. You grieve. And just when you think you’re ‘on the mend’, something happens and you grieve some more. That’s ok.

We are too hard on ourselves, as women, in many things we do, not the least of which is caring for ourselves. How many of us would fight to the death to defend a spouse, a child, a family member or good friend – and admonish them to look after themselves, eat right, rest and enjoy life? But us? Oh no. We must berate ourselves for not being good enough, fast enough, recovered enough to move on.

It is so easy to get caught up in the day to day detritus of living and forget to pause, reach out and say “I care” to someone else, and to ourselves. Maybe my two friends, and the many others who have already trod or who will tread that same lonely path, should pause and listen to those who are reaching out to them and saying “I care” with advice to rest, relax and re-create.

A good friend I’ve never met

writes poetry. Poetry that reaches in and massages your heart. Poetry that makes you stop and pause, consider your world and sometimes, let a tear stray down your cheek.

This good friend I’ve never met writes words that reach out and pull me in. Heather Grace Stewart is an amazing poetess. She has written three major collections, the latest of which, “Carry On Dancing“, has just become available. But the first of her books that I bought was “The Groovy Granny” – a collection of silly and fun verses for children, illustrated by her daughter Kayla. I gave the book to my grandkids and enjoyed laughing with them a we read about gadget pants and so much more.

And then I read, and re-read, “Carry On Dancing”. It wrung emotions from me that I was sure were long buried – tied to events long over and I thought, forgotten. They weren’t.

In her Introduction to the book she says, “This is a promise to myself to stop and take good notice of something, or someone in my life, every day.” And then she issues her invitation, “I hope you’ll join me on my small adventure.”

There’s nothing small at all about the adventure that is “Carry On Dancing”. “Enough” rails against a society that creates expectations embodied in images, things, celebrities but ends,

“I am me.

And that is enough.”

Heather’s family is a constant source of inspiration to her. “She Drew Me a Sky” helped me, however briefly, to feel my father’s work-hardened hand on my shoulder one more time.

“Mommy,” she said,

“let me show you

what I think souls look like.”

….

“If you’re quiet, though,

some days —- some days,

you can feel them.”

And I did.

‘Lessons Learned’ evoked a different reaction – and I called a friend after reading

“Forget about being right, and forget about being perfect. Surprise someone with kindness. Use humor to dissipate anger. Take deeper breaths. Take them more often. Snort when you laugh. Look into their eyes. Listen harder. Hug longer. Eat dessert with your hands. Dig in! Send someone some snail mail. Stop waiting for the right time, the right words, the right tactic. Make it right. Do it your way. Do it now.”

I had to.

But, when I finished reading “When I Finally Make Starlight” my heart dissolved and I cried great tears thinking about the legacies left to me – and what I’ll leave my son and grandchildren someday – when I finally make starlight.

Heather’s lyrical words will touch you. She wrote “Should I Ever Become THAT Poet” about those intellectually arrogant souls who pontificate about what should be, according to them, And asked to be shot should she get that way.

No worries, dear friend I haven’t met yet. It will never happen. You write too openly, from your heart to others’  as nature’s song unleashes your words for us to savour.

Carry On Dancing!