The Man in 417

While I was part of a writing group a few years back, I remember thinking... It is very difficult to write fiction. I noticed that one of our writing groupies, just wrote... about life, and experiences, daily stuff, places she has been, things she had done.   I thought - that's what I need to do. Start writing "my stories", rather than a big long book - I will do short stories of events, and things in my life.  When the #metoo movement hit, there were a lot of memories that popped up from my past. Some were uncomfortable, and some I still try and push to the back of my mind.  One of the books we read in the book club triggered  many of those memories.  Here's one of them from my little book of short stories I'm working on:  

The Man in 417

Reading the book "I Am, I Am, I Am: Seventeen Brushes with Death" by Maggie O'Farrell, I was triggered while listening to her incident on the walking path.  It brought me back to my own experience with a boy – a young man really, that lived down the hall from me.  

I was young. Maybe 15. He was close to 20 or older, I’m sure.  We were chatting at the recreation centre down the road, and we ended up walking back to the apartment building where we both lived.  We lived on the same floor – actually just a few doors down from each other – me with my parents, in 414, and he alone in a bachelor apartment. Number 417.  He asked me to come in.  I hesitated, but then thought it would be nice to keep chatting. Probably not the best choice I could have made. We sat on his couch, which I believe was also his bed, and he got us a drink; a very strong rye and coke. After a bit more talking, he leaned over to kiss me – I pulled away slightly, but his lips caught the side of my mouth.  I got up fairly quickly, and said I should probably leave.  He moved ahead of me, and stood in front of the door. He blocked me, and would not let me out.  I know what he wanted, and I was not prepared to give it to him. I don’t know what I said to make him come to his senses, but he moved away from the door, and let me open it and leave.  I heard it slam behind me.  I was shaking.  I headed to my apartment, and  hurried inside.  That was close…

Every time I went out and every time I came home, for a very long time, I would turn to the right and run down the stair well to the outside. I would come in that way too, and hike up 8 flights of stairs to the 4th floor – I dared not pass his apartment, for fear he would open the door right at the time I was passing by. I never wanted to see him again. I don’t think I did.

And then, there was one...

Words cannot express how heartbroken we are, that our beloved Jake has left us for the Rainbow Bridge. 

Just shy of his 14th birthday...loyal, funny, energetic, neurotic, goofy, gentle and loving...all the good words you can think of. Honestly, the best boy ever. 

We will always be so grateful and blessed, he chose us to share his life with.

So long Jake...Jakey Boy, Jakey Boo, Big Boo, Kissy Boy, Boo Boo Dog, Silly Dog.

Your pawprints are forever on our hearts.  

Run free with Q, and Buddy and we will see you at the Bridge. 

We will always miss you, and love you so, so much.  xoxo

Rest now, our beautiful boy.

#love, #labrador, #labradorable, #missingyoufiercely, #bestfriend, #heartbroken, #hardestpostever, #tears, #broken

And then, there were two...

We are so deeply heartbroken to share, that our beautiful, funny, donkey boy, Q, has left this life for the Rainbow Bridge. 

Q spent the last 3, of his 12.5 years with us here on the Mississippi River, after an exciting life of travel, fun and some serious tail wagging.

Q was a registered purebred black labrador retriever and proudly lived up to his breed. Named after the James Bond character, he was happy, loyal, funny, and quirky; an expert shoe stealer, tail wagger, and the very best couch cuddler.  

We will always be so grateful for how much he loved us, and can only hope he knows how much we loved him too. 

You will be sadly missed, by your brother Jake, and sister Missy.

Sad to say, we will always know where our shoes are now...

So long my donkey boy. Your pawprints are forever on our hearts. We will meet up again at the bridge - know that you will be forever loved QBWankenobi - xoxo

#labrador, #retriever, #beloved, #loss, #dog, #pawprints, #missingyoufiercely 

Field of Mini Wheats

My first painting - completed in October 2014.

My sister thought it looked like a field of mini wheats.

#oilpainting #oiloncanvas #landscapes #painting 

Lorelei

I stumbled upon these words, thinking it was a poem of sorts (well, I guess it is to some extent - isn't music, poetry set to music?) Realized it was done by the Scorpions in 2010. 

There was a time when we sailed on together

Once had a dream that we shared on the way

There was a place where we used to seek shelter

I never knew the pain of the price I would pay

You led me on with a cloak and a dagger

And I didn't know you had made other plans

You had me believe we were meant for forever

I really thought my heart would be safe in your hands

Lorelei

My ship has passed you by - And though you promised me to show the way, You led me astray

You were my Lorelei - What kind of fool was I. Cause I believed in every word you said, And now I wonder why

There was a time when we held one another - Bearing our souls in the light of the flame.

Those were the days now I've lost my illusions

Sometimes I wake in the night and I call out your name

Lorelei

My ship has passed you by - And though you promised me to show the way, You led me astray

You were my Lorelei - What kind of fool was I. Cause I believed in every word you said, And now I wonder why

Now there's a light that shines on the river

Blinding my eyes from so far away

Shot through the heart but now I know better

As hard as it is to resist the song that you play

Oh Lorelei

My ship has passed you by - And though you promised me to show the way, You led me astray

You were my Lorelei - What kind of fool was I. Cause I believed in every word you said, And now I wonder why Lorelei

The Scorpions

#scorpions #lorelei #safe #dreams #fool #love #soulmate

Goodness and Purpose and Light

Tonight, I walked in from the store with my arms full and a brand new candle in my bag. As I struggled to get it all on the counter, one bag dropped and I heard the glass break. My brand new candle was ruined as the glass shattered. Frustrated, I was ready to throw the whole thing away. My husband refused to let me do so. “It will still light; it will still serve its’ purpose,” he stated. Immediately, I began to argue back.... “But it’s broken and ugly and glass is everywhere. It’s just not the same.”

I walked away and when I came back, he had placed the candle on the counter and lit the wick.

My heart immediately was drawn to the light. How often do we do this in our own lives or with others? Things don’t turn out the way we want them to. Plans fail. Dreams shatter. Goals hit the floor. People break our hearts. And we are ready to throw the whole dang thing in the trash. Even though it can still light.... still shine.... still bring the fragrance of goodness. It just may not be pretty or in the package that we wanted or imagined.

Tonight, may we all be reminded that even in the brokenness and cutting edge of life, there is still goodness and purpose and light. We simply must be willing to not throw it all away and allow the redemption to take place. There are times that our story will simply speak a little louder and impact even more people when we are willing to allow the broken places of our life and story to shine for others to see and understand.

Liz Wagoner

#broken, #goodness, #light, #shattered, #itstillshines 

Believing in Big Love

A truly great post by Heidi Priebe

I talk and I date like I don’t.

I don’t have frivolous expectations for romance. I’m not looking to get swept off my feet. I am one of those rare, perhaps slightly jaded individuals who actually likes hookup culture and is happy to live in an age in which monogamy is not necessarily the norm.

But I believe in big love because I’ve had it.

I’ve had that massive love. That all-consuming love. That ‘I can’t believe this exists in the physical realm of this planet’ kind of love.

The kind of love that erupts into an uncontrollable blaze an then simmers down to embers and burns quietly, comfortably, for years. The kind of love they write novels and symphonies about. The kind of love that teaches more than you thought you could ever learn, and gives back infinitely more than it takes.

It is the ‘Love of your life’ kind of love.

And believe it works like this:

If you’re lucky, you get to meet the love of your life. You get to be with them, to learn from them, to give the whole of yourself over to them and allow their influence to change you in unfathomable measures. It’s an experience like nothing else we have on this earth.

But here is what the fairytales won’t tell you – sometimes we meet the loves of our lives, but we do not get to keep them.

We do not get to marry them, to pass our years alongside them, to hold their hands on their deathbeds after a life lived well and together.

We do not always get to hold onto the loves of our lives, because in the real world, love doesn’t conquer all. It doesn’t resolve irreparable differences, it doesn’t triumph over illness and disease, it doesn’t bridge religious rifts or save us from ourselves when we’re corrupting.

We don’t always get to hold onto the loves of our lives because sometimes love is not all that there is. Sometimes you want a tiny country home with three kids and they want a bustling career in the city. Sometimes you have a whole, wide world to go explore and they are scared to venture out of their backyard. Sometimes you have bigger dreams than one another.

Sometimes the biggest, most loving move you can possibly make is to let each other go.

Other times you don’t get a choice.

But here’s another thing they won’t tell you about finding the love of your life: not ending up with them doesn’t disqualify their significance.

Some people can love you more in a year than others could love you in fifty. Some people can teach you more within a single day than others could teach you over the entire course of a lifetime.

Some people come into our lives only for a particular period of time, but make an impact that no one else can ever quite match or replace.

And who are we to call those people anything but the loves of our lives?

Who are we to downplay their significance, to rewrite their memories, to alter the ways in which they changed us for the better, simply because our paths diverged? Who are we to decide that we desperately need to replace them – to find a bigger, better, stronger, more passionate love that we can hold onto for a lifetime?

Maybe we just ought to be grateful that we got to meet these people at all.

That we got to love them. That we got to learn from them. That we got to have our lives expand and flourish as a result of having known them.

Meeting and letting go of the love of your life doesn’t have to be your life's single greatest tragedy.

If you let it, it can be your greatest blessing.

After all, some people never get to meet them at all.

The Lost Art of Letter Writing

I am on a mission to declutter, and purge my home over the next year or so. It is not that it’s out of control “Hoarder” episode material. It’s just that on our last move, I brought several boxes, and extra things with me that I really didn’t need – it was just an “oh, just throw it in the moving van, and I’ll deal with it later” situation. My house is very small – and I want it all gone. It’s been almost 5 years!

This past week, as I dug out my Christmas cards, (Yes, I still do send Christmas cards to a dozen or so people in my life), I found a box of old cards and letters from years past. Well over 35 years ago! I poured a hot cup of coffee, settled into my chair, and started reading, and sorting, and laughing, and reminiscing, and crying a little too, over the memories of times gone by. I miss those letter writing days.

Sadly with our current means of communication, there really is no need to actually sit down and write a letter. Email, Facebook, texting – something like “video killed the radio star”, “internet killed the writer”. Don’t get me wrong – there are some positives about technology, but that’s another post.

A letter can communicate so many things that an email never could. They are personal – they contain your effort, your handwriting, and your choice of stationery. Before the words are even read, you have sent something that no one else could send. No one else has your handwriting or taste in cards. In a way, there is something vulnerable about this. You are revealing part of yourself to the recipient, and that immediately softens the heart. I found myself picking up a letter, and before I knew who it was from, I recognized the handwriting. It made me smile.

Letters are hard work compared to texting or typing. It takes work to find your cards, a pen, stamps, and then to trek to the post office to mail your letter. To physically write the words you could type a lot quicker, communicates value to the recipient. It tells them, that they are worth the effort. They are also inexpensive, yet the impact is sometimes bigger than a $50 gift.

Letters can be reread, and be encouraging in difficult times – they force you to speak slowly, and writing your words forces you to think before you write.

Letters can give the gift of time. The recipient hears your words without the pressure to respond immediately, or to respond at all. Face to face, emails and texting puts pressure on one to respond within a certain time frame. Letters are less stressful and gives the recipient the gift of time to process your words, and respond in their own time – or not! Sometimes sending a letter is just a way to remind someone they are on your mind and that you care. It’s like leaving the door open. “I was thinking about you. I care about you. I would love to see you.” It’s my way to remind them: my door is open whenever you want to come in.

Letters can build relationships. You can communicate through letters that you love and care for people – tell them they are important to you. Over
time, letters can build up a failed relationship, or be a solution for strained family relationships.

Letters cannot be debated. If you have trouble getting your thoughts and ideas communicated, sometimes letters force people to hear you out. They may not read your letter, but it’s hard to resist a hand written letter, so they likely will.

Letters can console the grieving, strengthen the weary, and soften hearts. Letters can ask forgiveness, or gently confront. You can send them to family members, neighbours, friends near and far, and even your "enemies." You can leave them for your spouse or roommate. You can give them to your Starbucks barista, your mail carrier, your grocery store clerk. Sadly, in this day and age, the latter may seem a bit creepy!

I miss it. I treasured every moment of the last few hours reading, and re-reading some of your old letters. Thank you, for bringing me that joy today, and all those years ago, when I first received them.

A recipe... Mushroom Soup

INGREDIENTS

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 yellow onion, diced

1 cup sliced celery

1 cup sliced carrots

16 oz. baby bella mushrooms, halved or quartered depending on size

2 tablespoons dried sage

1 teaspoon dried thyme

½ teaspoon garlic powder

5 cloves garlic, thinly sliced

1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar

64 oz. vegetable broth

1 (13.5 oz.) can full-fat coconut milk

1.5 cups uncooked wild rice blend

3 tablespoons corn starch

2 tablespoons fresh chopped parsley

Kosher salt

fresh cracked pepper

INSTRUCTIONS

Heat olive oil in a large pot over medium-high heat. 

Add onion, celery, and carrots, along with a couple pinches of salt and pepper. 

Cook for 8 minutes, stirring frequently. Then add mushrooms, sage, thyme, garlic powder, sliced garlic, and a large pinch of salt and pepper.

Cook for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add balsamic vinegar and a splash of veggie broth to deglaze the pot, scraping all the yummy bits off the bottom. 

Then add veggie broth, coconut milk, and rice blend. 

Dissolve cornstarch in 3 tablespoons of COLD water and add the slurry to the pot as well. 

Add a couple pinches of salt and pepper. 

Stir to combine and bring to a simmer over medium high heat.

Cover pot and reduce heat to low. 

Simmer, covered for 30-35 minutes or until the rice is almost cooked through. 

Stir every 10 minutes or so to make sure the rice doesn't stick to the bottom of the pot. 

Remove lid and simmer for another 10-15 minutes or until the rice is cooked through, and the soup has thickened. 

Stir in fresh parsley, season to taste with salt and pepper and enjoy!

Sounds pretty good, eh?

#soup #comfortfood #mushrooms

Saddest Feeling

The saddest feeling is when the one who gave you your best memories, is now just a memory...