Artist at Rest

It is time to rest. To lie on the grass, pull my hat over my eyes and take a break from writing on my blog.

Last April, a friend called casually over her shoulder as she took her leave of me, "Brenda, I hope you get your life back." And since then I've been trying to do just that - slow down, be selective about what I do and work at getting my life back.

Today I realised that part of doing that is to take a break from my increasingly dwindling blog writing. Releasing myself from this will free me to focus on my writing course. I am half way through the course now with six more assignments to go. I will still write in my morning journal but there won't be any more blogs for a little while. I have no idea of how long that little while will be.

Thank you so much for following my blog. I will blog again. But, for now, I say, adieu!

To Toughen my Touche

In preparation for our trip to Holland, yesterday M and I went on a bike ride at Mud Bay with two purposes in mind: to get biking fit legs and a biking fit touche.

We aimed to pedal out for an hour and an hour back. However, forty-five minutes later I was begging for a reprieve: my butt hurt! After a water and butt break, M comments, "Well, this is a good test that we can't bike 60 to 80 kilometers a day." Yes, please not, I sigh. Besides which, if I was to sit in a saddle all day I can do that in Canada. The bike tour in Holland needs to have some pleasure to it as well. M agrees.

"Stop!' M calls to me. "Look!"

I do and there on a pole above our heads sits an eagle. I don't think we've seen one this close before. The eagle cocks his head, as Brooks does when she's trying to get a better look. He spies us and decides we are not worthy of more attention. He preens - just a tad. Brooks, although just the size of the eagle's brilliant yellow beak, puts a lot more effort into her ablutions than this eagle does.

"Fly for us!" I call to the eagle. "Spread your wings." I know that the eagle is far more impressive in flight than perched on the pole. He ignores us and so we pedal on.

See, here is a case in point, I say to M, our bike tour in Holland needs to have time each day to stop and enjoy the scenery. And when we get to the destination, we want to look around too. M agrees. "Yes, the maximum is 50 kilometres a day," he decides. Fifty! My eyes widen.

If I don't get to blog too often this month, it may just be because I'm out pedalling: building my stamina and toughening my touche.

A Wealthy Tradition

We're just back from our annual day at Alice Lake. I can still feel the sun and the wind on my cheeks. I'm a relaxed Brenda Red Knees thanks to dozing off with a book in my lap. And for this day of simple enjoyments I am grateful.

Ahead of our trip to Holland in a few weeks, I'm reading the diary of Anne Frank. As I share in this young girl's experience of being hidden indoors behind closed curtains for two years, I realise what a privileged life I lead. The difficulty in reading the book is knowing the fate that awaits this teenager who will die in a German concentration camp before she is 16 - just weeks before the camp is to be freed by Allied forces.

Anne Frank writes of the difficulty of seeing the helpers who bring her family food and supplies arriving with wind in their hair and cold on their faces and to know that she cannot experience this for herself. What we take for granted became a sought after delight for young Anne Frank. What a privilege it is to be able to doze off in the sun and to be nicknamed Brenda Red Knees.

And I benefited today too from the wise words of my friend Morrie. As his wife, Em, and I discussed some of the challenges of planning for their retirement, Morrie quipped, "These are good problems to have." He's so right, if the problems we were discussing are the sum total of our problems, we are blessed: these are indeed good problems to have.

We count our wealth in dollars when we should count it in our friendships, our liberties, our enjoyment of health and the simplicity of our problems. After a fun day at the lake with friends, enjoyed in good health and with the prospect of work for tomorrow, my cup runneth over.