Showing posts with label gratitude. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gratitude. Show all posts

Monday, April 29, 2024

Tulips: a Poem about Eyesight

"My eyes are dim

I cannot see

I have not brought my specs with me

(forte gusto) I ha-a-a-ve not broughhhht my specs with me!" 

 

So the old pub singalong, author unknown, song goes.

Poking fun at yet another undignified symptom of aging

Which my eyes have been doing for lo,

these many years 

But now with two separate operations

on right and left eyes

(the left still a startling red & white & blue eye

its sunburn peeled away, a graft from my inner eyelid applied) 

I long for clarity in all things

for the exact edge of the snowline descending Goat Mountain

for the love lighting up his green eyes

when he sees I've made rhubarb & apple cobbler...

for the tulip bulbs which arrived in our good neighbour's topsoil

unannounced & which now gladden the eyes of all who walk

or drive down our alley, to see

a waving bouquet, bright red & yellow tulips 




 

Thursday, October 18, 2018

On Gratitude: a Thanksgiving blog

Dahlias, Lennard Island Lightstation, October 2018. Truth & Beauty...
Seamus Woodward-George explains a finer point of physics to mystified parents
Molly Brown, sea-dog and CEO of Lennard Island Lightstation
Jeff George, photographer and principal lightkeeper documenting the Big Storm of 2018 which tossed logs onto our helipad

A wonderful collaboration with artist Carol Evans resulted in this book, published by the great folks at Harbour Publishing, September 2018
Carol Evans and I,  aka long-lost sisters, enjoy morning coffee in Salt Spring Island mugs! Photo by the good-natured Bryn King, book tour driver, feedback provider, all-round roadie, computer whiz and paparazzi!
On Gratitude                                                                                        By Caroline Woodward

When your doctor beams at you before saying a word and you know she is relieved not to be the bearer of bad news. And that my world will not be turned upside down. Some day it will be but today will not be that day. I feel every healthy cell instantly flooded with some internal bath of sweet relief. My always reliable blood pressure is even better than usual. More kudos, more mutual smiles. I float down the clinic hallway and rejoin the colour and noise and glowing lights of the world outside, stepping lightly off a low-lying cloud, a suspended fogbound world of my most dire imaginings.

Gratitude, a word derived from the French, first used in written English in the 15th century, meaning thankfulness and a warm sense of appreciation for kindness received and a desire to do something in return. OED

I am also proud, happy and grateful for perseverance all around when our child, who is no longer a boy but a grown man and a genuinely good soul, flies to a Norwegian island near the Arctic Circle for a physics course. It’s an eight day blitz but Map Boy aka Mister 3-D is flying with this rare opportunity. He’s like us and loves to travel. Unlike his math-challenged parents, he is also keen on robots which he designs with a team of brilliant students at the University of Saskatchewan and this year as well, they will be making a small satellite to fulfill a Canada Space Agency contract, one of five awarded to Canadian universities. If you’d asked me twenty years ago what this little boy might create, might become, I cannot imagine what I’d have said. A carpenter or a chef maybe? Even before he went to kindergarten, he loved making things, from stirring big batches of muffins with me to inventing elaborate castles and moats with sand and water with his dad. Entirely on his own, he enjoyed making series of vertical tunnels using empty toilet paper rolls which he’d tape to my office door. Then he’d climb up on a chair and send a ping pong ball accurately zig-zagging from the top to the bottom of the door through all his ‘tunnels’ and out onto the carpet. He was three and a half years old then, I think. But I would have hoped he’d still be a good person most of all, no matter what, a good and kind person, and despite the usual, and more than usual, life challenges he’s faced. So I have intense gratitude for all our patience and perseverance and what Buddhists call metha or loving kindness as both parents and child problem-solved and supported each other in our best efforts. My gratitude also goes out to the teachers who understood and whose helpful awareness and professional skills made all the difference.

Our thoughtful son gave me a Tim Horton’s card with a $25 credit at the start of a book tour in 2010. I still had a car then and drove hundred of kilometres to the Kootenays and the Shuswap/Okanagan, Vancouver, Victoria and Vancouver Island giving public readings and signing my books in bookstores. I had not had a trade book published since 1993 and this was the re-start of my stalled writing career with a novel I’d laboured over for the better part of twelve years in-between motherhood, renovating a circa 1900 building, opening and operating The Motherlode with my husband, a village book and toy store, busily serving on local and provincial boards and councils, teaching creative writing classes and workshops, and singing in a wonderful choir. I loved all the things I was learning and working with all sorts of bright and talented people but I despaired of ever having enough time and focus to complete the novel satisfactorily.

On tour, I live on coffee and water and apples and almonds in my car, in-between actual meals once I reach my destination. I still have that Timmy’s card my son gave me and before every book tour I make sure I have it with me, topped up and ready to pay for my large double/singles to go. Other book tour rituals pertain as well. I am grateful for the cheerful nature, lively conversation and amazing hair styling skills of Jessica Taylor at Salty Dolls in Tofino who transforms my shaggy mop into a chic hairdo before I head out to meet the public, feeling much more well-groomed and therefore, perky! I used to buy new shoes whenever I published a new book but I’ve let that ritual celebration go by the wayside. My thriftier self advises me to wait until I actually earn royalties worth spending on nifty boots or red shoes. If I ever win a real prize (nine nominations and no joy yet but who’s counting?) I’ll buy extravagant flannelette sheets AND fabulous boots and shoes, guilt-free.

But here’s the wonderful part of getting a book published after years of rewriting and coming up with fictional characters and plots and all the rest of it: meeting old friends and new readers who come out to wish me well. Some of them bring flowers or home-grown tomatoes or home-made preserves. My favourite people in this world all have that twinkle, that sense of fun and Jessica possesses that twinkle. She plays banjo, sings harmony and writes songs for her bluegrass band, Little Saturday, among other adventures in music and travel.

It may sound odd, but it won’t to many readers who work at building all kinds of things, from organizations to buildings to books, but when a project is completed, nobody is more relieved and grateful than the builder. We feel we have earned hard-won integrity in our own eyes at last by actually finishing the project (our close relatives and those patient souls who share a life with us are mightily relieved as well) and we may even allow ourselves a rest after completing this complex and challenging task. But no, rest comes later because we have to hit the road to promote the project in the case of a book or keep scheduling meetings and including bright minds and energetic do-ers, if we are building an organization to improve lives in our communities like my good friend, writer Rita Moir does with her group, building beautiful homes for seniors in rural British Columbia.

The other wonderful thing that happens when a book goes out into the world is hearing from readers, those lovely people who send me emails thanks to finding me on Facebook or finding my website, designed by Doug Cook, web wizard at Digicom. I am a reader first, a writer second and I have written less than five letters to authors to say what I liked about their books and how they were important to me in some way. Every single author responded warmly as do I when I receive a personal letter. This is not to say there aren’t the usual trolls and poison pens out there but they are immature cowards who rely on anonymity or some form of protective camouflage to spew their toxic envy. As another friend says, if the haters are out to get you, you must be doing something right. So I’m grateful to have a few of those sad sacks waddling around as well to remind me of that fact!

Finally, since this is a Thanksgiving-inspired blog, I am thankful for my family, far away in Australia, Europe and the UK, and our son on Andoya, an island near the Arctic Circle in Norway and especially my husband, and our dog. Mustn’t forget the dog, who adores us on a daily basis, … and anyone else who arrives on our island as well, let’s be honest! My 93 year old mother is, thanks largely to my sister’s ongoing work, settled in a beautiful assisted living home now after a fairly hectic move but the outcome was worth all the bother and hard labour. I am also blessed with friends from all over the world and the only way to keep them is to communicate so I am grateful, hugely grateful, for the internet which allows me to stay in touch with them and to work with editors and send out my book reviews to BC Bookworld and articles to Harrowsmith and other publications. This was truly the deal-breaker for a modern lighthouse keeper and thanks to my clever and persistent husband, we have installed a satellite dish on this green rock in the North Pacific which allows me to work, to share what I think and hope and dream in print.



 



Saturday, July 9, 2016

DeCluttering Out At The Lighthouse

There comes a time between the intensive labour of spring planting and the fulsome garlic harvest of mid-July. Sure, the berries must be picked daily or else the birds will get them and then there is the daily onslaught of English cukes from the greenhouse since late June and soon, zucchinis will spill forth from their old wheelbarrow and halved oyster barrel containers where their rampant enthusiasms are more or less contained. 

That time is when the deep freezer is scrutinized for containers and plastic bags of blackberries labelled July 2014, strawberries and raspberries hailing from June of 2015 and blueberries from a bulk purchase of unknown origins. Rhubarb, carefully sliced and somehow missed underneath all the other berries, but definitely elderly now. A bag of last year's frozen cherry tomatoes and a few late heritage varieties as well comes to over three pounds and yes, it takes up a lot of room as well. It's eat 'em up or compost, get creative or dine glumly on freezer-burned produce which really should be enjoyed no later than six months after harvesting and freezing.

Then there is the refrigerator, with about five pounds of apples, all with bruises and other signs of wear and tear, stored since May. My sourdough starter or biga is near the end of its natural life and the covered dish I keep it in takes up a lot of room on the fridge shelf. 

The grocery tender (our jargon for a Coast Guard helicopter on the once-monthly grocery delivery run) is scheduled for this week but fog, drizzle, rain and gale force winds have all conspired to delay it several days running. Still, chances look better for Friday, with a forecast for showers and not this relentless soft rain and fog. I need to clear out the refrigerator shelves for new perishables and to clean out the freezer for a big order of frozen specials from Thrifty's and for a half year's worth of an incoming meat order from the Tofino Ucluelet Culinary Guild. Also, Jeff went out on a rare calm early morning this week and caught a black rock cod, an orange rockfish and an 18 lb blue ling cod, and I am encouraging him to pay for our new/used boat by catching lots and lots of fish for us! Some salmon and halibut in particular... but we clean and filet and freeze most of the catch, saving some for a Mexican pescados tacos meal from scratch. Yum, yum.



Rain. Welcome, welcome rain in July. We've been conserving water since mid-May but now all three household cisterns are filling up and so is the big one holding 20,000 gallons (estimated), built in 1904. Rain also means we cannot paint and mow or do other outside chores. Rain provides a good excuse to stay inside and tackle inside jobs.....

So, in we plunged. Jeff heated up the ancient blackberries and put them through our berry sieve and began gelato production for our Donvier ice-cream/frozen yoghurt appliance. I made applesauce out of the bruised and cut apples and then launched into oatmeal applesauce cookies. I made bumbleberry compote from old rhubarb, old blackberries and a few more apples to cut the acidity. Jeff then made one of his amazing fruit crisps out of the bumbleberry sauce.

I made a big batch of sourdough breads and carved off two pizza doughs to freeze for later use. Then I blanched the frozen tomatoes, the last of the greenhouse crop of 2015 and slipped off their skins for Jeff's Moosewood tomato sauce. We had a lovely vegetarian pasta dinner last night and toasted our hard work. We had bare shelves and spare compartments in the fridge and freezer. The grocery chopper arrived on Friday and our fridge, freezer and pantry shelves were filled again. The cisterns are filled with water too. It looks like a bumper crop in the garden this summer judging by our early results.



All is well on the Lennard Island Lightstation.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Goodreads Giveaway for Light Years: Memoir of a Modern Lighthouse Keeper AND/OR a Rant About Technology

Bear with me as I am still struggling with the 'user-friendly' Apple system...which, after 27 years of slow, medium and fast PCs, is not all it's cracked up to be.

My PC photo albums, easily accessible by date and/or by name, suddenly became over five thousand individual photos on my Mac. Which I now have to figure out how to coalesce back into albums when I least have the time for doing this extremely time-sucking chore.

Next discovery: I cannot transfer my Goodreads book reviews to this blog like I used to  do because suddenly a school district blog site I worked with three days after getting this MacBook Pro proclaims itself as "my" go-to blog-site. I somehow have to find a way to de-link, sign out or otherwise block that site and make this my go-to site. Don't ask me how. 

Did I mention that I've never taken a computer course in my life? And that I am not fascinated by technical matters at all? I don't care how stuff works. I just want it to work. Or that it's hard enough for me just to think a coherent thought and to express that elusive insight/connection/wisdom in words as clearly and eloquently as possible and to keep doing that, sentence after sentence, until I have a book? 

If I was filthy rich, I would have People who would do all this computer trouble-shooting/social media stuff. My job is to write, not to figure out technology and its love of constant change. I'm from the "If It's Not Broke, Don't Fix It" school of life and work. I prefer hand tools to power tools as well, no big surprise there. Less mangling, noise, fumes, expense and things that go wrong. I prefer more careful, peaceful, observant work. Meditation with a hoe in my hand, or secateurs. A tool I can sharpen and oil and otherwise fix by myself through many decades of use.

My dear and supportive husband and house-mate grew weary of hearing my profanities blasting through the walls of my writing office and ordered a copy of iPhoto: the missing manual which seems like a good book except it doesn't tell me how to downsize a photo so that I can change my five year old author photo on the Goodreads site, which tells me the new photo is too big and/or the wrong dimension. The book is thick. I just want to fix this one small problem, how to downsize one *&^%$#! photo, which should be in the index along with hundreds of other tips. But of course, it's not. Someone assumes we all know how to do this and the authors have merrily skipped over this basic information. As have the blithely no-manual, "psst: Can I sell you an add-on app you don't really need?" Apple folks. Intuitive capitalists, the lot of them!

I do not have time to read a thick manual on technology when I'm supposed to be letting the world know, via social media, about my new book and writing a 30 minute script to accompany a slide show of lighthouse images by the D&S husband... I'm going to email or call the human being we bought this over-hyped computer from and ask him how to downsize a photo in order to upload it to Goodreads.

Oh, right, go to my Goodreads site if you're a member there since I can't transfer the widget for free books to my own blog here. That is, if you'd like to enter to win a free copy of my memoir. Hard cover. Gorgeous cover. Very good quality colour separation and b&w contrast for Jeff's photos as well. It's beautiful to look at, thanks to the human beings at Harbour Publishing who have the skill and experience to wed content (and who pay for three sets of editors and a designer to work on each book) with technology to publish books they believe in. Thank you, Harbour! 

See? I start out kvetching and end up with gratitude. That's the way I work through the need to vent my spleen. Get to a good place with it, poke fun at my limited skill set, and move on! As they say on the radio, thanks for listening.