100 days of summer, a poem that is summer

1/100

May 20, 2017
On this cold and damp Friday night on the Victoria Day long weekend, Canada’s unofficial beginning to summer, I begin.
 
Melding motherhood, art, mindfulness, uncertainty, gratitude, quiet and listening with laughter, joy, long hair blowing in the wind, grass stained bare feet for 100 glorious days. A poem that is summer.

souvenirs of motherhood

The Sand Dune

May 15, 2017

The beacon that we are almost to the beach. My brother and I jumped up and down in our seatas at the first glimpse on the horizon. My kids too. We always stop to climb to the top. And then run down uncontrollably.

 

a year of stories

19/52

May 15, 2017

The sun was calling today.

To the beach you said.

But it is only May 13.

The lake is freezing. Too frigid to swim.

So you relented.

We filled the little pool instead.

The one the winter wind brought us over the fields.

The water from the hose is awfully cold too,

Because it comes from the same lake you wanted to swim in.

a year of stories

18/52

May 8, 2017

On the rainiest of days, after several days of rain, during an equally damp and rainy spring, the proverbial dam burst and the kids went outside to play. “Mom, we’re not made of sugar, we won’t melt”, they tell me as they head outside, numerous umbrellas in tow. To recreate the umbrella fort of their memories, circa 2014.