Sunday, March 20, 2011

6 Minutes...

It seems I have blinked and another week slipped by.

How quickly the time flies. How fleeting the friableness of life.

I watched a video of the Tsunami in Japan. It was 6 minutes long.

In that 6 minutes buildings and homes were wrenched from their foundations and tossed about like toys.

6 minutes.

The time it takes you to run to the bathroom during a commercial break, fix yourself a snack and plop in front of your favorite show.

We toil, we gather, we create.

We laugh, we love, we yell, we debate.

We live quietly or with great passion.

And do all this now with the knowledge that in 6 minutes everything we have worked for. Everything we know can disappear.

We are no longer innocent. The tragedy in Japan has taught us, the observers, the frailty of life.

6 minutes.

How many of those have I wasted on:

Silly arguments




I think I am going to make a vow. That for 6 minutes each day I shall:

Devote myself to working on a project I have procrastinated on.

Sitting down and playing Mario's with my son.

Sitting down beside my man and listening to something he is fascinated by.

Kneeling on the floor and giving the dog a belly rub.

Picking up a toy and playing with the cat.

Pausing for a moment and calling a friend just...because.

6 minutes.

For those whom have lost all in that fragile bit of time.

Sunday, March 13, 2011


Darkness presses against the windows of the family room.

Frogs are croaking love songs from the terrace fountain.

The fire whispers a lullaby inside where I and the ones I love are finishing up our day.

It is the end of my weekend. I am packing my mental bags and getting them ready for the start of my work week.

One more item to do and then I shall close the book on this weekend and crawl inside my flannel sheets and close my eyes.

Spring forward. Time change today.

I feel a tingle of happiness that Spring is rounding the corner with Summer a few car lengths behind.

Winter is hanging on though. She blew around today stomping her feet and beating against the freshly budding trees.

She is moody...for she knows her time is short.

I share her moodiness. I am clinging to the last dredges of my weekend trying to wring the last few moments from it.

But it is time.


Time I am off to bed.

Saturday, March 12, 2011


It's raining.

The Columbia River is speckled with fishing boats filled with soggy hopeful people.

The coffee pot is chugging its final chug. The inviting smell of fresh perked coffee wafts from the kitchen and into the family room enticing me.

Two birds squabbling over something just smacked into the window with a alarming thud. They swooped away again in a dizzy drunk man wobble. I'm much relieved.

Both my men are sleeping. Gabby Abby sits beside me staring out the window and chattering at the birds.

The dog is snoozing on the sofa, nestled in the folds of my Hello Kitty blanket.

The day yawns before me. Things are still wondrously quiet and peaceful. The morning is still mine alone.

Soon the sounds of life, family and love will fill the walls and my day will officially begin.

But in this moment. It is as if my world is holding its breath. Time is suspended.

And I am floating on a soft cloud.