Archive for October, 2011
A good woman will be laid to rest at midday. A loving mother, an attentive wife and a caring friend. I am saddened at this unnecessary death. I wonder what drove her out into the cold, wet, Pacific Northwest woods, dressed only in a housecoat, flip flops on her feet. I wonder at the despair she must have felt. At the terror she had attempted to flee. I wonder if there’s someway, anyway, anyone could have intervened.
Speculations abound. But I don’t like the words that are said just for the sake of feeding that vicious, hungry rumor mouth. Words about mental illness. And the other ones, that she had wanted to end her life. I don’t like how her memory is sullied with each one. I don’t want these ugly, unfounded accusations to be the last thing her children remember of her. I want these words and the people saying them to stop.
I’m thinking of her children. Of how unmoored and uprooted they must feel. How lost. How alone. There’s a tightness in my chest. A lump in my throat I can’t seem to swallow past. My heart wants to wrap itself around theirs and not let go. I pray that they will always remember her love. Her smile. Her words of wisdom. Her recipes. The songs she sang to them, and the prayers she whispered over their sleeping heads. I pray that they’ll remember her courage. Her kindness. Her faith.
If you have a moment, dear friends, whisper a prayer for the children, and think of them in the days ahead.
Yes, we do! Congratulations to commentator number 3! The lucky winner of Hidden in Paris is Pamela from the house of Edward.
Check her out, everyone. She is a marvelous writer, blogger, designer. Wishing everyone a good night. I’ve got a head cold and took a bunch of Nyquil, so I better get to bed. Until next time, love yourselves and one another, and, by all means, have another piece of chocolate -or two.
It’s been pouring out. Nonstop. I’m sitting by the lamplit window trying to figure out what to write about, but instead am too busy watching the rain come down, gathering in puddles, making little lakes in my little garden. Rain is so romantic, isn’t it? The sound of it, the look… But, I can do without the feel of its cold drops, like icy fingers, sliding down my back.
My favorite time to read is when it rains. A hot cup of tea or coffee in one hand, and a book in the other, is one way I love to spend a rainy day. Add to it the lonely sound of a train making its way to exotic destinations, glittery cities or majestic mountain resorts, and I’m in heaven. I spend quite a bit of time daydreaming of being on the train myself, looking out the window at the rolling images of dark villages, their windows glowing like honey, steep slate roofs with smoke curling out the chimneys, the humming of the tracks as the train rushes along, and the cobbled train stations where people anticipate the arriving and departing trains with as much excitement as though it were Christmas.
I can’t imagine a more romantic way to travel, than by train. And, yes, most of my daydreams are about destinations unknown. Probably because I rarely ever go anywhere these days. Or perhaps because in my armchair travel adventures everything goes according to plan, and no luggage is ever lost.
How about you? How do you imagine travel at its most romantic? And how do you like to pass a rainy day? Do you like to read? Well, here’s a chance to read a great book and travel to Paris, all at the same time from the comfort of your own cozy chair. This is a story about friendship, love and delicious food, written by one of my funniest, cleverest blogging friends. We meet this past summer and over coffee and chocolate muffins I found her to be just as delightful and hilarious and intelligent as I had imagined her.
So join in the fun and leave a comment before midnight October 11th for a chance to win Hidden in Paris.