Sunday, 11 October 2015

Hallowe'en vending machine 3.0

For the past three years there has been a version of the Hallowe'en vending machine.  It was initially invented to deal with us monstrous parents intent on stealing Hallowe'en candy. It was a little rough around the edges, but it definitely resembled a vending machine. Put money here, take one candy.

Last year, it was resurrected again.

This year, a full three weeks ahead of schedule, a whole Saturday was devoted to creating the latest version.

Like an Apple Launch, the vending machine version 3 was launched with much fanfare, a little bickering, and a lot of treats (for a price, mind you).

I introduce, generation 3 Hallowe'en vending machine.

Separate slots for pennies and bills.

    Easy to use dispensing slot.

 Plastic viewing panel

This version has improved on earlier designs to dispense candy to greedy parents.

Saturday, 10 October 2015

Balloon Effect

I don't think I have enough words or the right ones to describe my child's love of balloons.
He views balloons the same way other kids view lego, full of possibilities and as tools of his imagination.  Balloons can be engines, they can be ornaments, they can be fasteners, they can be bombs, they can carry messages ( and they do)... There are no limits when it comes to balloons.  I really had no idea. My mind was so limited before. Why don't, you ask, do I not have more balloons in my life?

Priming the Pump

When I step away from writing for a while due to illness or work or whatever, I force myself to write something. Anything. I try my best to not get too down on myself about what or how I write that something.  I write to Prime the Pump.  Sure enough, once primed, I start to get eager to write, I start to narrate posts in my head on my way home. The tap begins to drip.

Light a candle.

Each night, when I come home from work, I get this urge to light a candle.
For me it is not thought through or particularly intentional, just an instinct.
I started doing it a few years ago, as the supper hour starts to gradually get darker.
It is a flame that invites me to stay, not go. To put my house in order and make it a place I want to be.
With it's glow, I begin to make use of the fuel I have harvested from the summer sun.
I turn my attention inward, to protect us from the cold.

Tuesday, 29 September 2015

Saturday, 26 September 2015

Out of time

I've felt this way before and no doubt I will again, after all it is seasonal, but this time of year always confuses me.  It is warm enough that part of me gets tricked into thinking summer is just about to begin.  Another part of me, stumbles over a trip wire that signals a torrent of let's make soup, plan Christmas and nesting feelings.

When I walk off the beach for the final time of the season, it feels like a raw wound opens in my chest.

In time, slowly, the two broken flaps of skin find each other and knit together quietly.

Friday, 25 September 2015

It's a pattern.

He comes here and then I go there and then he comes here, it's a pattern.
I eat toast and then cereal and then toast, it's a pattern.
I decorated it with purple and yellow and purple, it's a pattern.
Making a snack is easy. Cracker, peanut butter, cracker, cheese whiz, cracker, it's a pattern.