Home Fires

What I Saw Through a Window in the Night — your best nest

Up in the Eaves of the Attic in the sweet little moss green Craftsman across the street, there’s a Lamp Glowing.  I can see my Dear Grey Haired Neighbour reading his book in the Amber Glow.

In the two story adjacent is the College Crew.  Every light in the house is On.  Same as their Spirits as they jive and groove to tunes I’m sure I could hear if I strained my ear.

In the Brick New England style apartment building down my street a good three quarters of the windows are lit up.  The tin ceilings painted their various colours creating a happy Window Rainbow of Homey Vibes.  Our dear Canadian Flag waving its Strength can be seen on top of this Brick Beautiful Behemoth as Dusk turns to Twilight.

I Love You, You Dear Flag.  What you Do for my Heart.  A tear of Appreciation wells up in my chest for my Country.

A Small Invisible Foe has Threatened not only Dear Canada, but the World Over.  What a Privilege to sink down into our Abodes and Wait Out this Time of Tribulation.

I think of those who Cant Be Home.  The Sick.  The Quarantined away from their Sanctuaries.  Those on the Front Lines.  Caring in the Chaos.  Lives being Sown on the Altar of Sacrifice for our Common Welfare.

Those who Desperately Crave to Open their Home Doors.  Pet their Dogs.  Put on the Kettle.  Pour themselves a Long Bath.  Play a little Jazz.  Kiss their Loved Ones.  Tuck their Babies into Bed.

Thank You from my Exploding Grateful Heart.  I See You.  I won’t Forget You.

And I’ll Keep the Home Fires Burning.  So that when this is Over, my Door is Open.  My Heart will be Open.  To Share in the Stories.  How we’ve Grown.  What we’ve Learned.  And we will Remember forever those who have left us Far Too Soon.

Please know I Love You, my Dear Fellow Global Family.  Wherever You Are.

Please Stay Well.


( Please have mercy on my French.  I’m sure I’m committing sacrilege to your sweet Language…and thank you to my Parisian Readers for being part of My World)

Dans l’avant-toit du grenier dans le doux petit artisan vert mousees de l’autre cote de la rue, il y a une lampe qui brille.  Je vois mon cher voisin aux cheveux gris lire son livre dans la lueur ambree.

Dan les deux etages adjacents se trouve le College Crew.  Chaque lumiere de la maison est allumee.  Identiques a leurs esprits alors qu’ils jive et groove sure des airs, je suis sur que je pourrais entendre si je tendais l’oreille.

Dans l’immeuble de style Brick New England dans ma rue, les trois quarts des fenetres sont eclairees.  Les plafonds en etain ont peint leurs differentes couleurs creant un joyeux arc-en-ciel de fenetre de Homey Vibes.  Notre cher drapeau Canadien agitant sa force peut etre vu au-dessus de ce magnifique behemoth en brique alors que Dusk se tourne vers Twilight.

Je t’aime, toi cher drapeau.  Ce que vous faites pour mon coeur.  Une larme d’appreciation jaillit dans ma poitrine pour mon pays.

Un petit ennemi invisible a menace non seulement le cher Canada, mais le monde entier.  Quel privilege de sombrer dans nos demeures et d’attendre cette periode de tribulations.

Je pense a ceux qui ne peuvent pas etre chez eux.  Le Malade.  Les Quarantains lloin de leurs Sanctuaires.  Ceux sur les lignes de front.  Prendre soin du Chaos.  Des vies semees sur l’autel du sacrifice pour notre bien-etre commun.

Ceux qui ont despesperement envie d’ouvriri leurs portes.  Caressez leurs chiens.  Mettez la bouilloire.  Versez-vous un long bain.  Jouez un peu de jazz.  Embrassez leurs proches.  Rentrez leurs bebes dans le lit.

Merci de mon coeur reconnaissant qui explose.  Je vous vois.  Je ne t’oublierai pas.

Et je garderai les incendies domestiques brulants.  Alors que quand c’est fini, ma porte est ouverte.  Mon coeur sera ouvert.  Pour partager les histoires.  Comment nous avons grandi,  Ce que nous avons appris.  Et nous nous souviendrons pour toujours de ceux qui nous ont quittes bien trop tot.

S’il vous plait, sachez que je vous aime, ma chere famille mondiale.  Ou que tu sois.

Veuillez rester bien.






Life’s Melody

flock of birds
Photo by Efdal YILDIZ on Pexels.com

When I’m Quiet, I can Hear It.

I realized Today my Heart hears it before I do.

Walking Charlie in the Spring air today, my heart Stirred. I felt it Lift and Soar and Jump in my Chest.  A Warmth spread like honey warmed by the sun in my sweater and a small smile started to coax the corners of my mouth.  I couldn’t help it, my head slowly rose to the sky as my breath became Deep and Full in my tummy.

A warm gust of air brushed little strands of hair across my face.  Ice snapped and crackled under my boots.  A bird sang a hopeful song.  And there it was.  A Melody.  Life’s Melody.  Awakening my senses and stirring me Once More.

I love you Life.  Sing to Me Again.  Wake me Up to Your Pleasures.  Make me Dance this Beautiful Dance with you.

You’re the Ultimate.

I Love You.


Quand je suis Calme, je peux L’entendre.

J’ai realize au’jourd’hui que mon coeur l’entend avant moi.

Marcher Charlie dans l’air du printemps au’jourd’hui  mon coeur s’agitait.  Je l’ai senti se soulever, et sauter dans ma poitrine.  Une chaleur repandue comme du miel rechauffe par le soliel dans mon pull et un petit sourire a commence a cajoler aux coins de ma bouche.  Je ne pouvez pas m’en empecher, ma tete monta lentement vers le ciel alors que ma respiration devenait profonde et pleine dans mon ventre.

Une boufee d’air chaud effleura de petites meches de cheveux sur mon visage. La glace  s’est cassee et a crepite sous mes bottes.  Un oiseau a chante une chanson pleine d’espoir.  Et C’etait La.  Une Melodie.  Melodie de la Vie.  Eveillant mes sens et me remuant encore une fois.

Je t’aime Le Vie.  Chante Encore pour moi.  Revielle moi a tes plaisirs.  Fais moi c’est une Belle Danse Avec Toi.

Vous Etes L’ultime.

Je T’aime.






















Promises of Paris

eiffel tower in paris france
Photo by Nextvoyage on Pexels.com

La Chouette Verte.

Nope. Le Chouette Vert.

Le Chouette Vert means the green owl in French. Of course anyone trying to learn a language is familiar with the little green owl, Duolingo.

Im Trying.

I made a promise to myself I wouldn’t see the Eiffel Tower in real time until I could converse freely and at will with local Parisians.

So in the evenings I conjugate verbs. In my spare time I read French books. Painstaking and often extremely laboriously. But the deeper I go, the more enthralled I am.

I love words as many of you have guessed by now. And French words are just a whole another level of delicious. Like rich Chocolate.

A Rich Chocolate Croissant.

Je T’aime.

A Not So Humble Brag (I’m Sorry)

woman s face
Photo by Isabella Mariana on Pexels.com

Read this Gorgeous Slam Poetry by my coworker Kiara Flotten.

She said she wrote it of Me.

I can only Hope So.

‘ She
As One Would Paint
Each Word
A Colour
Each Sentence
A Brushstroke
Forming An Altogether
Masterpiece Of Conversation.’

It’s Not Hard to Converse Beautifully with Someone with Stars in Her Eyes and the Universe in Her Heart, My Darling Kiara.

The World’s Your Oyster. Go Get It Girl.

I Love You Kiara

Parking Zones and other Funny Things


Today was a day for Pantyhose Calamities and Other Trivialities that left me with zero time to walk to work. I regrettably hailed a cab, much to the chagrin of my New Years Resolution Mindset of watching my Pointless Expenditures.

A Lovely Sheik man smiled at me as I tossed my Time Crunched Harried Self into the backseat of the cab.

We talked of the Cold Snap and Calgary’s Bizarre Weather Patterns for awhile until we reached a Pleasant Shared Silence.

I looked up quickly from my phone when he guffawed So Mischievously. He said with his Lilting Indian Accent,

“That woman, she locks up her car so no one will steal it! She doesn’t know the car will leave itself!”

A No Parking Zone. Gosh Darn. Yep. The car will be definitely Leaving Itself!

One thing I’ve come to Love and Expect from Sheik drivers is this Absurd Humor. One that Laughs at Life’s Ridiculousness and the Fallibility of Humanity.

I’ve Learned so much about not taking Life or Myself Too Seriously from my Happy Mustachioed Brightly Coloured Turban Wearing Life Loving Sheik Taxi Drivers.

Laugh It Off Today. It’s all Pretty Absurd.

(Absurd is an Absurd Word, No??)


Love in an Elevator (Not what you Think )


Riding the elevator to work today, I had this incredible overwhelming sense of love for all aboard. I didn’t know their stories nor their backgrounds. I didn’t know if they were good people or ones with horrible wicked tendencies. There was just this feeling of camaraderie. A sense of we are in this together and not meaning the four walls of the elevator.

We all shared one experience for sure. Birth. We were born into the world. Pure. Then everything became different. Vastly different for each one of us.

Life catapulted us forward. Some to privilege. Some straight into a path of suffering. But like birth, one thing we still experience together that’s the same is life force. A beating heart.

Because we breathe, we are worthy. Worthy of respect. Even the worst of us.

I felt an overwhelming desire that just that one day if possible even the not so deserving would have a good day. A peaceful one. One of hope. One of clarity. A day where the road was easier. The sun would shine a little warmer on their face.

It didn’t cost me anything.

I stepped off the elevator a lot richer.

Love you all

School of You

analog clock sketch in black surface
Photo by Miguel Á. Padriñán on Pexels.com

We Graduate with PhDs.

We have our Masters.



We can Save Lives.

Cure Disease.


Create New Inventions.

But if Asked the Question…

What Makes You Happy?

What Inspires You?

What are your Passions?

What are your Biggest Fears?

Where do you want to Be in Five Years?

What do you want to Achieve in Your Life Time?

What do you want your Life Resume to Say at 80?

Many of Us are Stumped.

We haven’t taken the time to Study Ourselves.

Haven’t discovered Our Uniqueness.

Our Purpose.

We have Never Attended the School of You.

Sign Up. Take the Course. Do the Work.

It’s the Best Investment.

There’s Only One You.

Become an Expert of You.


Tallen, Like the Eagle’s Talon

black hawk soaring
Photo by Tim Mossholder on Pexels.com

I Have A Friend, Tallen.

Many Years My Junior.

Raised By a Meth Addict.

Fought his Way through School.

Not to Be Aggressive. But to Merely Survive.

He worked in the Mailroom By Day.

University Studies at Night.

Working Tirelessly on his Law Degree.

His Girlfriend has Four Children.

A Victim of Domestic Abuse.

He Fathers them Tenderly.

Speaks of Her with so much Respect.

I love Tallen.

As the Talon of An Eagle Holds Onto It’s Prey…

So Does Tallen.

He’s Driven. Tenacious.

But, In His Presence, one Feels Like the Eagle.

He makes you Feel Strong. Able for Anything.

He even Feels like the Wind under your Wing.

Thanks for Stopping By the Office, Tallen. Thanks for the Updraft.

I Love You.


A Rebellious Heart

brown blocks heart shape wall mount ornament
Photo by Mike on Pexels.com
Pick Your Rebelling…

Rebel Against Complacency.

Cliché Living.


Doomsday and Fear.

Fight Against Bitterness.

Against Apathy.

Shame and Regret.

War Against Jealousy.

Against Competition and Strivings.

Gossip and Slander.

Pick a Fight…

Fight Boredom.

Triviality and Smallness.

Go to War…

War Against the Dark.

In the Deepest Chambers of Your Mind.

Fight the Good Fight. War a Good Warfare. Have a Rebellious Heart.


Wild Flowers

selective focus photography of purple petaled flowers
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com
They’re Unexpected. Whimsical. Never quite where they Should Be but always a Lovely Surprise. A Delight in the Doldrums. Usually Willowy. Easily Windblown. Yet Sturdy. Resilient. Tenacious.

Thank You to All My Pretty Wildflowers. Blooming on the Clefts. Fragile yet So Brave. Facing the Winds. Drinking in the Wild Air. Floating their Fragility and Vulnerability as Badges of Honour.

I See You.