Baking with Barbra

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What a Beautiful Mess.  Nothing makes me Happier than Barbra Streisand and Baking in My Messy Kitchen.

Barbra is singing “Somewhere”.

Someday …Somewhere…We’ll Find a New Way of Living…

Kind of Apt for Life these Days.

I don’t know what it is These Days, but I feel like I want to Roll A Cot into my kitchen.  I want to Eat, Sleep and Breathe all things Kitchen.  I love the act of Flipping My Lamp On.  I realize it’s a Bit Odd to have a lamp in your kitchen, but I love Anything more by Lamplight.  Turn on some Jazz.  Preferably Barbara Streisand these days.  And Flipping a Cookbook as my dog Charlie lays her sweet frame by my feet.

I love the Sound of Sizzling Butter.  The smell of Yeast Rising.   Boiling Water on the Stove.

There’s no other Room in my Sweet Home that brings me this much Comfort.  Where else can I Stumble at 3 a.m. and peel back the cellophane and hold a rich, gooey brownie in my sleepy hands.? Is there anything better than a Stolen Sweet Snack in the middle of the night?

Or peel a wonderful Navel Orange standing over the sink and let the Wonderful Citrus  Aroma and Flavour awaken you for a Brief Moment so I can find my way back to my little bedroom at the back of my Cottage.  And curl up again under the warm duvet for a couple more Sweet Hours.

Our Homes are our Sanctuaries.  Especially our Kitchens.  I wonder how many of us are getting Reacquainted?  Trying New Recipes?  Letting the Old Ones calm our Senses and Bring Continuity in a truly Unprecedented Time.

I’m So Grateful I Can Hardly Stand It.

Words Fail Me to fully describe how much I Appreciate Safety.  Continuity.  Quietness in this Harried Time.

I have Learned over the Span of Life that my Feelings are Common.  So I pray you are all feeling Calm and Centered in your Homes.

And Enjoying 3 am Stolen Confectionaries  from the Pantry.




Life’s Melody

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Photo by Efdal YILDIZ on

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.






















Strawberry Haired Fairies and Other Brave Warriors

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Photo by Dominika Roseclay on
My Little Neice (well she’s Thirty Five, but to me she will always be the Strawberry Haired Fairy who made me an Auntie at Seven. ) delivered her Fourth Child Hazel Jean Yesterday.

 **Ok – this is being finished a year late***

This Precious Human inspires me every day. She is a Single Mom of Four. Every Day is a Struggle. A Juggle.

Every Day she Clings to Her Joy. Sends me Youtubes and Jokes that cause Tears to Stream Down my Face.

Bible Verses. Inspiring Quotes. Pictures of Hazel with a Spaghetti Hat.

Lots of Nights her Weary Body Finds Rest and Comfort on Her Knees. Trusting the One who Plans our Tomorrows. Our Sorrows and our Joys.

We can Trust what comes from the Hand of Our Creator.

Thanks to all the Strugglers. The Jugglers. The Warriors.

You are my Hero. Joline . You are my Hero.

I love you Girl.

And I Love You Too Sweet Reader.


A Quiet Season

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Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger on

I have felt a need of Restraint. For Quiet. So as I enjoyed so much the Sharing and the Fellowship of so many…I am Stepping Back for a while.

I’m not sure if I’ll continue.

Somethings are meant for A Season. A Reason.

But you can be sure…if I do feel this is still an Integral Part of My Purpose, I will write with New Fervor.

I love you all Fervently.

Have a Wonderful Day.

Adding Value VS. Mattering

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We can Worry About Mattering.  Do we Matter to People?  Do they Care? Are we Important to them?

The Better Question is “Do you Bring Value?”  Because if you Do, You Will Matter.

We will Only Matter to Those who we Bring Value to.  And Value is Measured by one’s own Priorities and Inner Moral Compass.

So I could Matter for all the Wrong Reasons.  Depending on the Priorities of Another.

So My Concern is Not to Matter.  But to Add Value Based on My Moral Code and Noone Else’s.

So What do I Value?

Authenticity.  Kindness.  Joy.  Encouragement.  Love.  Listening Ears. Introspection. An Open Mind and Heart.

So with This List I Enter Life Each Day.

To Bring Value to Others.  In Turn, I will Matter to Those who Share the Same Values.

Thanks to all my Valuable Friends who Matter to Me.



Let me introduce you to Genevieve…

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Photo by Pixabay on

My Apologies to All Wonderful Genevieves in the World.

Yesterday my Beautiful Daughter Grace said, ” Mom, your Genevieve is Out.”  As much as it made me Cry Tears of Laughter, I don’t Like Genevieve.  She’s an Alter Ego of mine.  Or maybe it’s just Ego.  My Ego.

My Kids have a Name for Her.  She’s Pretentious.  Judgmental.  Quick to Offense.  She even holds her purse a Certain way.  Clasping her hands at her upper chest.  Her nose is even slightly higher than normal.  She’s Impatient.  Superficial.  She’s Really Rather Ridiculous.

I’ve Learned to Laugh at Her.  Quickly Usher her to where she Belongs.  Under the Control of Spirit.  I only Like Myself under the wonderful control of the Spirit.  Gentle.  Happy.  Supportive.  Kind.  Longsuffering.

I love that Genevieve Never Goes Away.  She’s always there reminding me of My Potential to Be Kinda Awful.  To Humble Myself to the Control of the Spirit.

Labouring to always make sure Genevieve stays working the Broom Closet for the Rest of my Days.  She’s One Pompous Jerk.

Love ya’ll .

Now you Know the Rest of the Story.


So You’ve Been Bullied…

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Everyone at some point has Dealt with a Bully.  Taking your Gentleness as Weakness, they Push You Around.  They Need to Feel Powerful.  Loving to Oppress.  For a Moment they Feed their Need for Power and Relevance through You.

Silently Observe…

Look in their eyes….

You’ll Often See Fear.  Bullies are Afraid Insecure People .  When you can Understand this, it takes their Power Away to Hurt You.

Disarm them with Your Quiet Confidence.  Stay Comfortable in Your Own Skin.  Two Things Often Happen…

Their Attention goes Elsewhere…or as you Role Model Strength and Courage


The Fear in their Eyes Melts away.  Confidence finds a New Spring in Their Step.

They’ve Become Inspired…


The World Becomes a Little Kinder.  A Little Brighter.

One Bully at a Time.

It’s Worth a Shot…

The Proper Kinda Shot…


Those Dreaded Uninvited Guests Are Here….

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They Make Tears Run Down My Face Like Rivers.  The Wind as I walk Charlie Whisks them Away.  The Stain Still Smeared on my Cheeks.  Sometimes, they just Show up Unannounced.  Demanding Entry.  Smashing Down my Bolted Heart’s Door.

Shame.  Regret.  Grief.  Longing.  Fear.  Pain.

Gosh What a Family.


They Rip the Living Room Carpet Up Every Time.  Exposing the Elephants in the Room.  There’s a lot of Elephant Excrement too under that Dang Rug.

They Demand my Attention.  That they be Acknowledged.  Their Needs Attended to.  Which Always Includes that Dumb Elephant.

When they Show their Ugly Heads Around, I know my Dream Day is Gone.  That I will now be Engrossed in this Flipping Family Fraught with Failures.  Feelings.  I will Cry Inconsolably.  I will Wish.  I will Repeat “I’m So Sorry” to No One and Everyone Inparticular.

But You Know What, Each Time They Come, They Lay Claim to an Elephant.  They Drag its Lumbering Behind Out the Door with them.  Like they’re taking Some Treasure.  If They Only Knew.

I Feel Lighter.  The Living Room Rug is One Less Elephant Lumpy.  And A lot Less Smelly. I Got More Heart Leg Room.  Room to Stretch.  Room for Good Guests.

And hey, Look Who’s At the Door….

Humility.  Forgiveness.  Gratitude.  Love.  Joy.

Come In, I’ve Missed You.


We all need a T.R.I.B.E.

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Photo by Stokpic on

There’s Nothing Like a Girl Tribe.

 Mine Began with My Mother.  My Matriarch of Many Musterings.  Mostly My Courage.

 There were my Dear Sisters.  We Rarely Fought and Fiercely Loved Each Other.

 There was Sandi.  My Beautiful Brunette Childhood Bestie.  Her Tinkly Laugh and Freckles Bestrewn on her Darling Face.  We never had a Fight.

 There was Miss Brown, my Grade 7 teacher.  She Loved me and Believed in Me.  I Flourished in her class.  I Learned I Loved Public Speaking.  Speech Writing.  Essays.

There was my Guidance Counsellor in High School.  She loved me enough to Phone Home Personally if I Skipped Class.  Deep Down I was Grateful.

There was also the Woman of Grace I lived with the First Year of Adulthood.  Three Thousand Miles from Home.  A Desperate Lonely Girl Found Solace Under Her Gentle Wings.  I owe her My Life.

There was Rita.  My First Female Coworker at My First Real Job out of College.  She RODE my *ss.  I had one case of stress induced hives after the other that first three months.  I thank her.  She taught me things.  I knew she Loved Me enough to Make Me Reach For My Best Work.

That’s My Life to Twenty.  It would take Too Long to Expound on More.  Or to even state all the women who made a difference in my formative years.  That’ll Be Another Blog Someday.

Thank You to All My Helpers and Missy Helper Helpertons.  I love you all