Haiku verses are not given titles, but if I were to give this one a title, it would be DESPERATE.
Travelling through northern Ontario one night we were desperate for a motel room, but discovered to our dismay that all the rooms in all the quality motels were booked because of a local convention. “Non-smoking room” was no longer a choice. We took this room and managed to get a few hours sleep in spite of the almost overpowering smell. We didn’t linger long in the morning. 🙂 I was desperate to get home and wash all our clothes, as the smell of stale tobacco had permeated everything we brought into the room.
the last room in the last motel in town nicotine potpourri
Anyone who’s ever driven by tobacco kilns in the winter when the workers are turning the tobacco leaves will know what I mean; the whole countryside has that distinctive reek.
We attended a funeral in Moose Jaw yesterday, Bob’s 84-year-old cousin passed away. It was a perfect day for travelling, warm and sunny. Snow melting everywhere gave fair puddles on streets and in parking lots. Leaving the funeral home I looked around and exclaimed, “Spring has sprung!”
Another couple leaving at the same time chuckled and the woman said, “If this were the first of March, I might believe it.”
No, we’re not fooled. It would take an awful lot of climate change to give Saskatchewan spring in February. We hope the trees aren’t fooled into putting out their little buds and having them nipped in the -20 C days to come. Going home we saw many ice fishing huts set up on Buffalo Pound Lake in the Qu’Appelle Valley. Those fishermen aren’t expecting a thaw anytime soon.
I’ve been writing a number of haiku lately so will post a few others later today. But here’s a verse I wrote as an elegy?…requiem?…epitaph?…for the maple sapling that rooted under our back deck last summer and tried to shoot through the slats. A brave effort put forth, but so unappreciated and wasted by being in the wrong place.
“Bloom where you’re planted,” they say. However, one must add the corollary: “Be sure to plant yourself in a good place if you can.” 😉
through slats on our deck a sapling reaches for the light well it tried
This post, an original compilation of Whatnot, has been written in accordance with all the rules of Biff’s Whatnot Wednesday.
I thought of baking cookies today so I pulled my cookie sheets out of the cupboard and extracted my laptop from between two of them. Later, when I went looking in another cupboard I discovered where I’d hidden my cell phone.
Are you wondering about my strange storage places? Mind you, if you’re a worrywart like me, you won’t even have to ask, as you probably have all your own hiding places for your valuables. The laptop was sitting in plain sight on the table when we were ready to leave for a shopping trip. Couldn’t have that!
I read years ago that if you’re going to store valuables in the house, you’re better off to keep it in the freezer where no thief will think to look. (Except that now I’ve told. 😉 ) I’ve never done it, mainly for lack of cash to hide, but it made perfect sense to me. I don’t doubt that house-dwellers have various little nooks and crannies where they stuff their stuff for safekeeping. (Beware, though, about storing anything in a hot place like the oven.)
But do keep a record — and do warn your spouse and children that things are not always what they seem. One lady gave away a pair of her husband’s old socks that he never wore anymore — without checking. He nearly had a stroke when he got home, did a random double-check, and learned that his over $1000 nest egg had been donated to the Salvation Army.
To add insult to injury, they hadn’t deemed the socks worth keeping and had tossed them in the dumpster — without checking. That evening guess who was down at the local landfill searching for a pair of socks with a wad of cash stuffed inside. Another lady, trying on shoes in a charity shop, found $1100 stuffed in the toe of a shoe. Bless her, she was honest enough to turn it in.
Yes, do tell someone trustworthy that some things are hidden and they should beware of doing a random discard. Some elderly couples, not trusting banks, squirreled away their life savings with no one the wiser. Money caches in old mattresses and such has gone up in smoke.
Back to the freezer. I read yesterday that you should NOT store your coffee in the freezer. It’s apt to lose flavor. And since our morning java is pretty important, we do want to keep it fresh — and safe. Don’t leave it on the shelf where a burglar may find it; rather, keep it in the back of your filing cabinet, or hidden behind the dictionaries in your bookcase. (You never know, a thief might snitch your novels.)
Good morning everyone. We are having a very spring-like week here on the prairie with temps around 0 C and we’re all enjoying it. Our cats have “cabin fever”; they are constantly at the door begging to go outside and see if anything interesting is going on out there. Much better for all of us than looking out on a snow storm. 🙂
The Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning is RHYME, one of my favorite words and concepts. If you’ve followed me for awhile, you’ll know that I’m fond of poetry. I have memorized a number of poems to recite to myself at night when I can’t sleep, and verses that rhyme are great for this.
When I’m trying to write a rhyming verse, I often find myself searching for a suitable word to match my line ending. That’s when I turn to Rhymer.com and search through their lists. I find this online site an invaluable aid in my versifying. Merriam-Webster also has a rhyming dictionary on their site, and I use their thesaurus constantly.
While free-verse poetry that explores feelings and situations can be poignant, I tend to prefer poems that end on an encouraging note, rather than simply spilling the speaker’s angst or lost-love disappointment. Some writers have packed a lot of wisdom and wit into an inspiring verse or two. Here’s one example, but I don’t know who wrote it:
If all that we say in a single day, with never a word left out, were printed each night in clear black and white ‘Twould prove strange reading, no doubt. And then, just suppose, ‘ere our eyes we could close, we must read the whole record through. Then wouldn’t we sigh, and wouldn’t we try a great deal less talking to do? And I more than half think that many a kink would be smoother in life’s tangled thread if half that we say in a single day were left forever unsaid.
Since everyone has a nation, a place they call home, and hopefully likes their own land, there should be lots of upbeat responses to this one.
According to some United Nation study on health and quality of life, Canada is one of the best countries in the world to live in. Having travelled across this fair land and lived in six provinces, I can say this is so: I do indeed live in the best country in the world. 🙂
I lived with my aunt & uncle in British Columbia for a year when I was around four years old, so can’t really count that as practical experience, but as an adult I’ve lived in Alberta, Saskatchewan, Manitoba, Ontario, and Quebec. The only provinces we haven’t visited at least briefly are Newfoundland and Prince Edward Island. In spite of the occasional winter chill, I feel our quality of life has been “as good as it gets” all across our glorious nation.
According to Wiki: “Something to Sing About” is a patriotic song written by folk singer Oscar Brand that sings the praises of the many different regions of Canada.
We have a beautiful spring-like afternoon here in Saskatchewan. Our temperatures have risen above 0 C and the cats are loitering outside in the sunshine. A sweet promise of days to come.
After December’s side-track, I’m again working at my ATCUSS* goal. This week I’ve been doing more cleaning/tossing out in my sewing room, as well as some minor mending. (*ATCUSS: A Total Clean-Up of my Sewing Space.)
We live in a mobile home and there’s just not much room to store things — never mind half-finished things. Ungrateful soul that I am, some days I look around and think:
Stuff, stuff, stuff!
Where to save it?
Where to store it?
No, stuff it. Stuff it!
Blessing from Heaven:
those green garbage bags!