Rhymes, Rants & Accolades from North Central BC

Archive for July, 2015

IN SEARCH OF WILD ONIONS

My husband passed away in April and I am wondering how long this period of loneliness and mourning will  last?

Other widowed women tell me “six years” or even as long as  “twenty.” Some carry it around for the rest of their lives. For me it’s been painful. And unpredictable. And a few times overwhelming .

But once in awhile the grief has been mixed in with an emotion akin to joy. I’m not sure whether I was experiencing symptoms of insanity or whether I happened upon something wonderful?

Our early years of togetherness weren’t always easy. But eventually it worked. We made some lifestyle changes and our relationship grew into something special.  In about 1995 I wrote “In Search of Wild Onions”   

The years have passed by

My love

We have experienced pain

Bouts of drought

Freezing rain

Blazing fire

And

Storm drenched desire

Both frigid and torrid

Weather

Although altogether

There were infinitely many

More warm cloudless days

Now we are basking under

Calm comfortable skies

We await the sunset

And enjoy each sunrise

Today we climbed a steep hill

In search of wild onions

Something we do every spring

Before the berries ripen

Before the fish begin to bite

Tomorrow we may go camping

And make love inside a tent

And I can honestly say

That I love you

Today

And I always have

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LIFE GOES ON….

Okay, so life goes on…. What’s for breakfast? I suppose one should have protein. What’s in the fridge? Aha eggs! But I hate eggs. I spot the butt end of a loaf of homemade bread purchased at one of the Friday afternoon markets. I carve off two slices and dip them in beaten egg diluted with ½ and ½ cream. Fry them up brown and eat them topped with gobs of butter and rhubarb sauce. (Wished I had some whipped cream.) I wash it down with coffee made in my one-cup coffee maker. Nice healthful breakfast.

Time to check the blood pressure: Doggone good numbers if I do say so myself! My doctor would be proud.

Exercise options: should I strut across the highway to fetch the newspaper or dance aerobically to music in the bedroom? (“Winding up your clock,” as my husband used to call it.)

But first I’ll phone my brother and listen to some guy talk. He tells me about his latest attempt to slim down Rusty his aging, obese dog. It’s called “No Calorie Dog Food.” It’s twice the price of ordinary dog chow but money-back guarantee if dog won’t eat it. And he has a fish story to tell me.

The fish aren’t biting much lately, he tells me. But he did have a big one on the line awhile back. Almost had it to the boat when a loon swam over, dived down after the fish and took it to the bottom of the lake. The line broke and my brother went home fish-less.

That reminds me of a time when we were fishing on Hallett Lake. An eagle swooped down from the sky, scarping up my husband’s catch of the day. The swoosh of its big wings startled me so much I almost fell out of the boat. Husband laughed about that for days!

It’s too nice a day not to be outdoors. Besides, I need to weed and water my garden box. Last summer the deer came and clear-cutted most of the greenery. This year I’ve been spraying with a mix of hot sauce, garlic, egg and cayenne pepper. Seems to be working.

I’ve decided to keep my husband’s scooter. “I’m practicing for my old age,” I tell people when they ask about it. Who am I trying to kid? I’ve already got most of the symptoms. Anyway, today I am bold enough to drive it all the way down to the park to take a stroll along the lakeshore. I manage to avoid the joggers, trains and automobiles and park in full view of a beautifully matched 4-horse team that’s being hitched to a covered buckboard. Amazing how the horses have been trained to back up so nicely in unison! It’s the Fraser Lake Sawmill’s Picnic and I assume the buckboard will soon be loading up passengers to follow the roadway and admire the view.

On my stroll I notice the size and quantity of the saskatoon berries. ‘Tis a good year for the berries. And it’s a good day for me. I am invited to enjoy a hamburger. I don’t have to cook anything for lunch!

LOVE DON’T GET NO BETTER THAN THAT!

Love Don’t get No Better Than That!

“I don’t buy into that Valentines’ hype,”
he growled as he came through the door,
arms laden with groceries
and yesterday’s newspaper.
No flowers,
No chocolates,
Not even a card…

“Besides,” he added
with an ingratiating grin,
“Every day that we’re together
is Valentine’s Day.”

Before I lapsed into a self-righteous pout
I recalled the love song he’d written
‘Specially for me,
And when I’d had that cancer scare
He’d wished that it’d been him.
But the absolute efficacy
The ultimate validity
Of his devotion to me
Was that
He’d always
Bait my hook
And then remove the fish

Love don’t get no better’n that…
THANK YOU FOR BEING MY VALENTINE!

 

“Because I Needed You…”

I’ve been mulling over what makes a man “special” to a woman (over and above the attributes that make him “sexy”) The longest-lasting drawing card I think is that he needs her – loves her to the nth degree- he needs her so much (really loves her -not just wants her sexually) that he becomes the best person that he can possibly be. His love- and the vulnerability that goes with it- can be irresistible to women (some women anyway)  And it works both ways. She knows that she can trust him whenever she becomes vulnerable; and that he will respect her and his love will not be dampened during the inevitable low points in their relationship.

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