Walk with me a while I’ll match your small step with my own Talk with me, sweet child I’ll listen now, and when you’re grown Remember when we walked and talked And I was there, through sun and rain And if you need to walk and talk Please know, I will be there again WeContinue reading “The Sand and The Sting”
The scent of warm beeswax and roses filled the kitchen. The table was laden with the colour of summer. Flames flickered a blessing to the sun. And we made candles for our solstice table.
Preparing food is an act of love. It says, I am here. I will nourish you. You will grow strong in my care. I love to cook with my boy. He takes real pleasure in good food. And I take real pleasure in his sweet company.
Beneath the trees, in the shadows, where wild things grow, Magic lives there. In the meadow, ‘midst honey bees and poppy heads, Magic lives there.
In the hush of a winter evening, in the dark of the longest night, bake a sun bread, soft and golden, calling home the sun’s warm light. We make sun bread once a year, on the week of the Winter Solstice. It is probably the favourite treat in our house.
Robin Little Bird will share the food from his plate. He will tear his banana in two and offer half to his reaching sister. He will ask if he should share his snack with toddlers at the park who are looking at him hungrily. He takes so much pleasure in sharing that I feel heContinue reading “Robin to the Rescue”
When I was pregnant with Cohen, I used to tell him stories. I would rest a hand on the curve of his tiny back beneath my skin, close my eyes and lower my voice almost to a whisper. I would send feelings of utter peace through my blood, from my heart to his.
“Tiny Tales are not just for big boys, you know”, Robin informed me after last week’s math story was complete, “Can I have a Tiny Tale, too?” And those dark-as-coal eyes looked up at me and I said, “Okay, Bobbin, it’s your turn next”. So, this week is a Tinier Tale, just the right sizeContinue reading “Tinier Tales – Aggie in the Berry Patch”
There is spirit, still, in spent things, In seed pods and bare branches.
He used to explode the eggs and put his foot in the batter. He used to knock the flour bag over. He used to cry at the oven that the cookies were taking too long. Still, we baked.