"Hope" is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—
And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—
I've heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.
-Emily Dickinson
Spring is coming. The Rhein is full and flowing. The geese and swans and ducks are abundant. When we see them assembling on our riverfront lawn to munch away the newly sprouting grass, great guy calls ‚gänse alarm!‘ (geese alarm) The birds in the trees zwitscher (tweet) like crazy each morning, like they’re really excited about the sunshine and warmer weather! The father’s fish pond has finally thawed, the waterlilies are coming up for air and even most of the fish survived. Slowly winter hats and coats are heading into storage. Tiny buds are busting out on the barren rosebush which I planted last summer. It’s still alive!
And great guy is now spending his weekends puttering around on his boat, hopeful to launch it into the water in the next month or so. Sitting at our favorite watering hole, on the water, for the first time this season, we hopefully planned boat trips for the summer…Croatia, Holland, Canada (I wish!).
On Saturday, I’m meeting up with a new group of hopefully, soon-to-be-friends and I’m excited. They are four dynamic, entrepreneurial women who I have met through Ms. Potter (she is one of them). They are full of business ideas and warmth and energy, and I am full of hope as I begin the process of joining their team.
Today I am hopeful. Maybe too hopeful? But, the sun is finally shining again after a long, long time of gray skies and dreary, cool weather. There are things which I am excited about and hopeful for…new adventures, first birthdays, cleaner living, simple and calm days ahead. Spring is hope.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
if my mom could leap
My mom wished that her birthday was today, the 29th of February. She always said it would be so great to only count every four years. But, she was born a day too early, yesterday.
I was thinking about her today as I drove a little wine delivery tour for mickey. My trip took me 300 kilometers south to the province of Baden Wurtemberg...and I think it was the first time that I have been there. Once off the autobahn I drove another hour, high up into the hills, beautiful hills, with quaint little towns amidst empty fields patched with thick snow, lined by forest. I was high up, so high that for over two hours I was out of handy (cell phone) range. I thought that only happens in Saskatchewan.
I stopped in Bingen to have a coffee. Yup, there are two Bingens in Germany. And I, with mickey’s wine truck spewing the words ‘Bingen am Rhein’ on every side, thought it was kind of funny to be puttering through there…in Bingen am…? It is also a very nice Bingen, I must say. Small, hilly, with a mill churning water from a fast-flowing brook ,right through the middle of town. The people I encountered were chubby and smiley, very friendly, and spoke with thick, southern accents. Maybe I could say, almost Bavarian-sounding (to my ears, anyways). I liked it. And them.
They bought a lot of Rhein wine, and so maybe I’ll be back there again. But, then again, maybe not. Great guy has been encouraging me to break out on my own and do more work-related things which I actually enjoy. I’m guessing that starting to drink Mickey’s wine at 4:45pm, with Mickey being the one who’s driving me to drink, is a strong sign that maybe I should be pursuing other endeavours (that was just the one day…at 4:45pm, just so you know).
I haven’t introduced you to Ms. Potter yet…oh, I will. It could be that you’ll be hearing a lot about her in the near future. There is an opportunity which has presented itself and I might just jump at it. Hmm…I’m still thinking.
One last thought: it seems whenever I’m driving hours on end, on a Mickey tour, I hear ‘para, para, paradise…’ come on the radio. Then, for the entire day, it lives in my head. Sometimes, when I’m in an especially pathetic, self-pitying mood, I think it applies to me, but today I thought of my mom….the teenage girl who wrote a novel only to have her father call her a whore and burn it. Man, do I ever wish I could get my hands on that book! To be fair, my mother was a drama queen, and so that story might not be completely accurate. All I know, is that my brother and I were terrified of that man, so maybe it was true. Either way, thank you Coldplay, for interesting, and yet irritatingly-catchy lyrics.
‘When she was just a girl, she expected the world, but it flew away from her reach, so she ran away in her sleep. And dreamed of para-para-paradise every time she closed her eyes. Life goes on. It gets so heavy. The wheel breaks the butterfly. Every tear, a waterfall. In the stormy night, she closed her eyes. Away she flied. She dreamed of para-para-paradise. And so lying underneath those stormy skies she’d say, ‘oh, I know the sun must set to rise’
A happy P.S: great guy and I are heading out tonight for a leaping good dinner at a new-for-me small, strauss wirtschaft (a vineyard family’s restaurant). I want to celebrate a day that only happens every four years…why not?
I was thinking about her today as I drove a little wine delivery tour for mickey. My trip took me 300 kilometers south to the province of Baden Wurtemberg...and I think it was the first time that I have been there. Once off the autobahn I drove another hour, high up into the hills, beautiful hills, with quaint little towns amidst empty fields patched with thick snow, lined by forest. I was high up, so high that for over two hours I was out of handy (cell phone) range. I thought that only happens in Saskatchewan.
I stopped in Bingen to have a coffee. Yup, there are two Bingens in Germany. And I, with mickey’s wine truck spewing the words ‘Bingen am Rhein’ on every side, thought it was kind of funny to be puttering through there…in Bingen am…? It is also a very nice Bingen, I must say. Small, hilly, with a mill churning water from a fast-flowing brook ,right through the middle of town. The people I encountered were chubby and smiley, very friendly, and spoke with thick, southern accents. Maybe I could say, almost Bavarian-sounding (to my ears, anyways). I liked it. And them.
They bought a lot of Rhein wine, and so maybe I’ll be back there again. But, then again, maybe not. Great guy has been encouraging me to break out on my own and do more work-related things which I actually enjoy. I’m guessing that starting to drink Mickey’s wine at 4:45pm, with Mickey being the one who’s driving me to drink, is a strong sign that maybe I should be pursuing other endeavours (that was just the one day…at 4:45pm, just so you know).
I haven’t introduced you to Ms. Potter yet…oh, I will. It could be that you’ll be hearing a lot about her in the near future. There is an opportunity which has presented itself and I might just jump at it. Hmm…I’m still thinking.
One last thought: it seems whenever I’m driving hours on end, on a Mickey tour, I hear ‘para, para, paradise…’ come on the radio. Then, for the entire day, it lives in my head. Sometimes, when I’m in an especially pathetic, self-pitying mood, I think it applies to me, but today I thought of my mom….the teenage girl who wrote a novel only to have her father call her a whore and burn it. Man, do I ever wish I could get my hands on that book! To be fair, my mother was a drama queen, and so that story might not be completely accurate. All I know, is that my brother and I were terrified of that man, so maybe it was true. Either way, thank you Coldplay, for interesting, and yet irritatingly-catchy lyrics.
‘When she was just a girl, she expected the world, but it flew away from her reach, so she ran away in her sleep. And dreamed of para-para-paradise every time she closed her eyes. Life goes on. It gets so heavy. The wheel breaks the butterfly. Every tear, a waterfall. In the stormy night, she closed her eyes. Away she flied. She dreamed of para-para-paradise. And so lying underneath those stormy skies she’d say, ‘oh, I know the sun must set to rise’
A happy P.S: great guy and I are heading out tonight for a leaping good dinner at a new-for-me small, strauss wirtschaft (a vineyard family’s restaurant). I want to celebrate a day that only happens every four years…why not?
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