More Dogs

This is Lori's Lukey, Jasmine's brother. He is the sweetest dog on the planet. Lukey is all about the love, as Lori always says. Lori took these photos on our very doggy weekend. She also took a couple of shots of humans too, which I neglected to do.

Lukey's bad little brother Blakey, who is so cute we cant help grinning dotingly at his antics. Pup passed the torch to him, and he's doing his best with it:)

Stephanie's little man Chase, who is feeling his fourteen years. 

He is such a sweet little dog.

Whoa! How did these humans get into the pictures? Lori got these shots of a very happy Stephanie with her WONDERFUL fiance, Gord. We just love him, for making our girl so happy, and for being such a great guy. He did all the chores on my To Do list. (Men approach our house at their peril. There are always chores that require male skillsets.)


Sigh. It was such a good weekend:)

Silly Goose

Beau is quite strict about wanting her oats by 5 p.m. If I am late, she will make sure I know it by encroaching on the birdseed feeder. I had better get her to the barn, 

before all the chickadees miss their supper!

The Tree In Me

The Hanging Garden Tree,Tall Tree Trail, Meares Island,

a tree I identify with very much

The prompt at Poetry Jam is one of my favorite topics: 

Where is your forest?  Cool!

Inside my body, out through 

the bottom of my feet,

my roots go down, down into the ground,

holding fast to the center of the earth

when everything above ground

is toppling and turmoil.

They curl around knotted lumps of tangled tuber,

suck moisture from the mossy canopy, 

send it up up up 

to drip off my topmost branches,

helping the leaves, the fronds, the ferns

unfurl and thrive,

keeping us all

alive.

In the middle of my body 

is its trunk.

I grew it there

so I could best withstand,

strong and steady,

to bend but not to break,

when the tsunami comes

and washes all away,

I know my trunk

will steady me

and stay.

You can hold onto me

when the ground shifts

beneath your feet,

for my inner tree 

has learned endurance -

how to Simply Be,

in the face of all distress,

grows still and strong,

while others ride the wind,

clamor chaotically,

I feel a tree

unfurl

inside of me.

Inner vision

image from google

The prompt at Poetry Jam this week is "the blind leading the blind". 
This woman immediately popped into my mind. True story.

She was ninety-three,

blind, and in a wheelchair.

I found her

in her back garden,

on that beautiful spring day,

and thought how sad it was

that she could no longer see

the flowers  she had planted

blooming

all around her yard.

But as I bent

to kiss her,

she smiled,

"Oh, there you are, my dear.

I was just sitting here

enjoying the warmth of the sun,

and listening to all 

of the beautiful birds 

singing.

Isn't it the most wonderful day?"

I would have thought,

loving the natural world

as I do,

that losing sight of it

would be the worst

that could befall me.

But she taught me

that beauty remains,

even when some things

one considers essential

are lost -

as long as the soul

continues to

look for

the gifts.

Gone to the Dogs

Jas was such a happy girl this weekend. Steph and Gord were here, with their three dogs added to our four and, instead of watching me, boringly comatose on the couch, she had all the dog activity to enjoy. Her face says "this is the way it should always be!" 

Feisty Ms Chloe kept Sanchez busy defending his toys.

She has non-stop puppy energy and would do bunny-runs around the yard, all the big dogs  lumbering  in pursuit. Indoors, she was rarely still, just so much to explore.

Jas registers her deep appreciation of the entertainment - I think she wants a 

puppy companion. Hmmmmm..........

Lisa and the grandkids stopped by and I had to get a shot of adorable Penny, who felt the safest place to be, in our herd of elephantine critters, was up high. Only later, did I realize I was so intent on taking photos of the "granddogs" that I neglected to take any of the grandchildren.

Good grief. That's typical.

Poor old Chase, now fourteen, is moving very slowly. Another very sad parting in the near future. Steph is watching him closely and will not let him suffer. This little man has been such a blessing in our lives.

Altogether, the weekend could not have been more wonderful. And yesterday, after such a long chilly spring, summer heat landed. Lori hung all the bamboo blinds and we are in the thick of the heat now. By five p.m. yesterday, Lori was already moaning, "toooooo hottttttttttttt!"

Life is very good.

Women of the World

© Peggy Goetz: Village Midwife, Mountains of Honduras

Today Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads is featuring the photography of the very talented Peggy Goetz, who has traveled this world widely, and who brings us her beautiful poems and photographs at her site, On a Day Like Today.

© Peggy Goetz: Three Mayan Women, Guatemala

I was struck by the signs of struggle and sorrow, strength and endurance, in the faces of the older women in her photos.........something we share world-wide is the wisdom that surviving on the planet into our later years brings us.


Do click over to Real Toads, to see what the other poets post. We'll be posting all weekend.

                   © Peggy Goetz: Three Women and Baby, Yi Village ,China

It doesn't matter whether

you are in Honduras,

the remote villages of China,

the sidewalks of New York,

or the mountains of Tibet.

You will see on 

 old womens' faces

that same look:

weathered skin,

sadness, sorrow, endurance

and  a capacity for pain.

Their faces light up

for a baby's smile

but, in repose,

when they think

you are not looking,

all they have lived through,

all they have lost,

all of the getting up

from their beds of sorrow

to begin again,

and what that cost them:

these are the stories

their careworn faces

try, without success, to hide.

Happy Mother's Day to 
every single mother out there:

those who are happily raising small children, 
with great love,

those who have, with great pain, 
laid their children in the ground,

those who live far from their busy children

and rarely see them,

those who live on the streets

and have been abandoned,

those who have struggled 
with mental illness,

those who have lost their children 
to the system.

To every woman whose heart 
has been expanded

and whose lives have been raised high  
or laid low by giving birth:

tell yourself those words you rarely hear:

that you have done something important 

on this earth,

by gifting it with your children,

and that you have

done well.

Antiques of All Sorts

Kids, it was the Antique Road Show here in the valley this morning. First, I checked out the prompt at Real Toads: turgid. No poem issued forth, even though my Head feels VERY turgid this morning, and not in a good way. :)


It is sunny, open-door weather, which we are so enjoying, having waited for it extra-long this year. I took the back road to town and passed, just like a Time Machine, about a hundred antique cars from Back in the Day, all polished up within an inch of their lives, their  silver-haired owners behind the wheels, and proudly on parade. A beard and silver pony tail can still turn this girl's head. 


The car pictured above, from google, is the exact  car I went out on dates in, when I was a bright eyed sixteen, full of romantic dreams, with no clue how to choose a partner who could manifest them. I remember the boys, and the cars, smelled strongly of talcum powder back then. Just like in American Graffiti, we'd cruise the main street, down one side, seeing and being seen, once through the park, then up the other side. Once I decided to be one of Macbeth's witches and started cackling and rocking from side to side, uttering imprecations. The boy was laughing so hard he almost crashed the car. Another time, I pulled out a false nose and glasses, put them on and started acting all flirtatious, to the amusement of the passers-by.


I couldnt help but reflect, as I passed and passed and passed the cars this morning, that it's odd when the cars one used to go out on dates in are now antiques and one is still waiting for Mr. Right. Or even, given the finite horizon, Mr Right Now........hee hee.


A bonanza! They were having a book sale next to the library and I walked out with an armload for the price of one book. Yippee! 


This weekend is beginning very felicitously.