Red and Black - The Colour of Romance

A girl and a boy are walking hand in hand ahead of me on Bank Street. They are damned cute even from the back.

I quickly pass them, whip myself around, smile at them, point to their shoes, and say, "That is so cute and romantic."

"Do you think so?" The girl inquires, "I was worried it might be dorky."

The boy just smiles shyly.

"Are you kidding? It's romantic as hell," I tell them.

They are a friggin' cute couple from the front too.

With their enthusiastic permission, I take a picture of their feet and continue on my way.

Sigh... ♥

Des Clips

When I was a single parent, Papa, who was a practical man, showed his concern and love by giving me useful gifts.

Sometimes it was tools, other times groceries, or cleaning supplies.

One time he brought me an old cedar picnic table that we'd had when I was growing up.

"It's funny," I said to him after setting it up in the yard, "I remember the table and seats as much wider."

He tilted his head to one side, his eyes narrowed slightly, "Well, it was. Damned thing wouldn't fit in the car, so I trimmed off the ends."

One of my favorite gifts was a plain, dark beige metal box that he gave me at arms length while smiling mischievously, "Guess what's in the box?"


"Clips?" I suggested.

"Yes! Open it." He never questioned how I knew he'd brought me (binder) clips. We called them by their french name, "Des clips."

Of course I still have them. I was pleasantly surprised to discover, when I started blogging, that I am not the only one out there who likes, uses, or creates with clips.

My favourite use for binder clips will always be the bed sheet forts that the boys and I would build using clips to secure the half dozen or more sheets to tables and chairs - hours of fun.

Nods and Smiles

I was stepping off the sidewalk to cross the road, and I heard the great roaring purr of its motor.

"Hallelujah, the buses are back!" I rejoiced silently.

I looked up at the bus driver, flashed her a smile, she responded with a friendly nod*, and we both raised our hand and waved at each other at the same time.


*There was little ill-will toward the strikers, who received nods and smiles from their customers. "And nods and smiles were returned," the Citizen said. "A very different strike in 1919"

Crazy for Snow

I asked these committed bikers if they were enjoying the snow.

They saw my exuberant happy smile, my frost pinched cheeks, my wild sparkling eyes and the accumulated snow on my hat and coat, and they knew I was one of them.

"Yes, we love this snow. Don't worry, you're not the only crazy one."

The Bus Tickets

He is a young lad - he is maybe fourteen. He walks up to me and quietly asks if I would be kind enough to trade his two bus tickets for a loonie, "They are worth two dollars, you know."
Yes, I know.

I let him down for a second when I tell him that I don't need the tickets. "But wait," I say and encourage him with a smile. "I think I have a loonie that you can have." I search my wallet well aware that he can see that I have a couple of bills. I find three quarters, a dime and a penny. I place them in his slender hand.

"Here, you should have the tickets," he repeats.

"No, I really don't need them. What are you up to?" I ask cautiously, "Do you have a home to go to?"

"I'm just wandering around killing time before my curfew."

"Can't you go home before your curfew?"

"No, it's a shelter. I can't get in before ten."

As I write this, I've been home safe and comfortable for over two hours. He has just been allowed into the shelter.

He's about to walk away and I say, "Wait", and I give him five dollars. It seems such a pittance, but then I remember when five dollars was a fortune to me - it wasn't that that long ago.

We look at each other for a few seconds - he has gentle intelligent eyes shaded by a lock of blond hair.

He tries to give me the tickets a third time.

"I'll make you a deal," I tell him. He looks at me suspiciously. "Keep the tickets, and instead, one day when you are doing well, and I have a good feeling you will do well one day, I want you to pass on the favour to someone else, OK?"

He hesitates only a second, "I will."

I think that he believes me that I believe in him. And, I do.

As he walks away he shares his faith with me, "God Bless."

(In memory of Steven (Cactus) Beriault)

Mellow Folk at the Ottawa Folk Fesitval

I spent Sunday evening at the Folk Festival. Once again, I enjoyed finding people to speak to. Mostly though, because I was feeling sleepy, I watched to see what folks do to pass time while listening to great music. I saw people

sun tanning,



nursing their babies,


drinking coffee and reading,


possibly sitting on their laurels,


and knitting.

Blue Skies - “Only great minds can afford a simple style.”*

Pandora and I walked around Blue Skies spotting people with style. We had fun approaching people, complimenting them on their look, and then engaging in a conversation. Everyone was friendly and happy to share a moment and a few words with us. Mouse over the picture to read more!

Cocktail Party



Blue Skies Friends



Happy Reunion



Dancing Soul Mates



Always Fantasize





Line Dancing While Waiting for Corn on the Cob



We are Corny Boys (is that what they said?)



Muddy Bliss



Corn Angel



Harmonica Fella



Tollar Family



X-tra Sweet & Tender



Ain't That the Truth



LiPS - Live Poets Society



Sparkling Love



Romantic Guy



Just Met



Super Family



Bob & The Happy Hippie

Pandora and Woodsy Skins


* Stendhal - One of the most original and complex French writers of the 19th century, 1783-1842.

Blue Skies - Hoots and Hellmouth - Part I

Megan Butcher seems to love giant squids. And when I saw this fella and his squid shirt, I felt that both, the shirt and the cutie, would appeal to her.

His name is Rob, he looks a girl in the eyes when he speaks, he has a fabulous singing voice, plays the Mandolin (now that's a sexy instrument), and shakes hands firmly but with an extra gentle squeeze - Woodsy was smitten! He's part of my new favourite band, Hoots and Hellmouth.

"Hi, can I get a picture of your shirt for a friend of mine? She loves giant squids." I said to him after attending the workshop he participated in on the magic of the trio for songwriting.

"Sure," he responded with a gigantic smile, and without hesitation he posed for me. "But what about the teeth?" He asked... "What about the teeth?" he repeated.

Megan? What about the teeth?

Out at the Fringe Festival

I met a constellation of my favourite bloggers on Saturday night at a wine and cheese hosted by the Fringe Festival.

Zoom, looking foxy as always, stood up to greet me when I arrived, and as she hugged me she whispered, "How should I introduce you?"

I laughed and responded with, "Tonight Woodsy is coming out..."

As the evening progressed, I was honoured to get to know

• Logan's person, Skylark (lovely engaging gentleman),
• Aggie's crush, Milan (fascinatingly brilliant cute lad),
• Woodsy's crush of the evening, David Scrimshaw (dangerously charming genius, but who unfortunately, for me, was accompanied by his girlfriend), and
• Mother Earth's kindred spirit, Mudmama (wonderfully intelligent hip chick) who'd brought along her little wee kissy-hand Sprout (who smells like peaches!).

Thank you to Brad for organizing this event, and now I'm back in the virtual closet!

Young Ardent Defender of Man

The phone rings, and I hurry to answer, certain that it is Word Wizard calling from Islands.

I hear the first syllable of his genial hello, and I know it is him. "Hi my sweet son! How are you?" I burst out, interrupting his salutation.

"Great, great. What about you, Woodsy?" My sons have always called me by my first name.

"I am well. So, do you want me to send you the letter, or should I open it?" I ask out of obligation, knowing full well that he wants me to open it.

"Open it, please," he replies in his mellow earthy voice.

I read from the letter, "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted as a student of the Università degli Studi di Milano..."

"I figured I would get in," comments the Word Wizard in his usual confident but humble way.

"Isn't life great!" I almost scream.

"It sure is," he responds with a little, he,he,he, chuckle that is his signature happy sound.

"Well, I have to go," he says, "I don't have access to this phone for long. I'll call you some... I mean, I'll call you soon."

We both burst out laughing. We know each other well enough to appreciate subconscious slips.

I miss him dearly, but at 20, he was ready to leave the nest. I remember with great clarity, 6 days after his birth, promising him that I would make the best of our time together, "because you are only mine for a short time."

Girly Girl Magi

This is Magi. We like to be touching when we silently converse.

Four years ago, Erratic Genius, Word Wizard and I were at the Ottawa Humane Society looking at kittens. I asked the rough looking attendant, who was gently and attentively grooming Magi, how she ended up at the shelter.

"She was only three days old when someone brought her in," he told us. "She had been abandoned in an apartment by the previous tenants..."

He did not need to say anything more - we sympathized.