“Courage is grace under pressure” Ernest Hemingway

This is what I’ll be telling myself at work today.  I can envision a time in the future when things will be better, but for now all we can do is the best we can under the circumstances.


Watching clouds roll by 
on a sunny day… 
Who needs church?
 Nature is divine.
 -Carrie Latet


Many years ago when I was a summer student working at TransCanada Pipelines, I was part of a crew doing a corrosion survey of the pipeline in southwest Saskatchewan.  Basically, we were walking along the pipeline, a mile at time, through farmers’ fields.   We were usually in a group but sometimes we had to go back and re-walk the mile  because we left testing wire in the field.  I clearly remember one day in August, near the end of our work day, when I had to walk the mile by myself and then wait for the van to pick me up.  We had radios to keep in contact with each other, but my radio stopped working, so I couldn’t let anyone know I was done.  I started to get anxious they’d forgotten about me, but decided that was silly and laid down in the field and watched the clouds roll by, something I probably hadn’t done since I was a little kid.  It could have only been for five minutes, maybe it was half an hour (I don’t remember that part), but some memories are timeless.

That’s what I thought about on my lunch break today, in the middle of a stressful day.

(picture was taken from the car, somewhere on the highway between Lethbridge and Medicine Hat, Alberta last June)

“The House Was Quiet and the World Was Calm”

I had a hard time figuring out what I wanted to post tonight – it was a busy, interesting day.  I work in a library and today we took job action in our contract dispute with management.  Instead of going into detail about that, I’m going to share one of my favourite poems – this is the perfect description of getting lost in a book.

The House Was Quiet And The World Was Calm

The house was quiet and the world was calm.
The reader became the book; and summer night

Was like the conscious being of the book.
The house was quiet and the world was calm.

The words were spoken as if there was no book,
Except that the reader leaned above the page,

Wanted to lean, wanted much to be
The scholar to whom his book is true, to whom

The summer night is like a perfection of thought.
The house was quiet because it had to be.

The quiet was part of the meaning, part of the mind:
The access of perfection to the page.

And the world was calm. The truth in a calm world,
In which there is no other meaning, itself

Is calm, itself is summer and night, itself
Is the reader leaning late and reading there.

Wallace Stevens

Digging In the Dirt Part 2

“In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.” Margaret Atwood

Didn’t get any dirt under my fingernails today since it rained here most of the day, so I took a couple pictures instead.



This doesn’t quite go with the rest of the post, but rookie camp for the Saskatchewan Roughriders starts this week, which means the Canadian Football League season is just around the corner. Looking forward to a less tumultuous season than last year!


Thank you!

Thank you for visiting my blog!  I’m still figuring this whole thing out, but so far, so good!


(The bright side to the rain, the flowers will look amazing…I hope!)

Music For A Rainy Sunday

Five songs for a rainy Sunday: (Here Comes the Sun, the Beatles) (Jackie Wilson Said, Van Morrison) (We’re Going to Be Friends, the White Stripes) (When It Don’t Come Easy, Patty Griffin) (Solsbury Hill, Peter Gabriel)