Depth of Field

Finding a gas pump in the middle of nowhere
Next to a bridge fallen from somewhere
Fueling my steps
My steps which take me from here to there
To the place where nowhere leads.
So give me my energy
To continue walking
Over sinking bridges
Which end abruptly.
Maybe I'll end up somewhere.

What You're Missing (or, What's Missing You)

Dear Boyfriend,

While you're enjoying your two bedroom, four balconied penthouse near the beach, here is a little piece of home to remind you of what you're missing.


SNOW!!!

That 'good luck' that you sent to Molly really did her some good (I promise, I passed them along). Tonight she both played and sung beautifully. Since I was the only one home to watch her school Christmas concert, I brought the digital camera to get some pictures. Since you're missing Molly oh-so-much, we decided to make you feel as if you were sitting right beside me in the Lakefield Elementary School gym.





I am in complete awe in how all these grade four and five kids can play the violin so well! I got a prelude to a few of the Christmas pieces in the hospital last night when Molly played for Papa, but hearing the group of them playing is just beautiful.

A ukelale group came to play a few numbers (didn't compare to the violins of course!) and then, Molly came out once more with the choir. They sang beautifully, and such a wide assortment of Christmas pieces. I recorded 10 seconds of each Dona Nobis Pacem, one of my favorite songs to hum while wandering around the house alone. I managed to get some of rendition of 'Let it Snow' to send to Australia! Each song was beautiful, and many were harmonized or sung in round. You should have heard it! The choir sung at the Imperial Theatre here in Saint John sometime last week with choirs and orchestras from all around the area, and apparently it was a night of beautiful music. From what I heard tonight, I don't wonder why.





After the choir, I headed into the 'backstage' area to get Molly bundled up to walk home. (Seriously, a walk home here in Quispam is nothing like what you're getting used to in Australia, (other than the riots. We don't have to worry about our safety, just about how our extremities will react to frostbite.) It was then I suggested to Molly that we make sure you get to experience this night with us! She was thrilled with the idea. She also suggested that I take a picture of her and Emily, the friend which she is planning to make a scrapbook for! Emily recently gave her a Best Friends Charm bracelet that Molly was thrilled about, because it looks remarkably like the silver bracelet I wear around my wrist constantly. Behind Molly and Emily is the infamous Luke - the boy who tried so desperately to be Molly's boyfriend, and who in my opinion is pretty cute! (Molly put me up to saying that!)



Since we decided to have you see these pictures, we decided that I should be in a few of them. So, we took a lovely sister-picture just for you (and for me to have. You can never have enough sister-pictures).


We headed home, and just before curling up in the living room to start reading the second book in Madeline L'Engle's Time Chronicle, we decided to show you what Christmas looks like in our house (because you haven't seen it yet!). Remember, this is without my decorations on the tree yet!





Merry Christmas Dan! We all miss you here! Molly can't stop saying it, and I can't stop feeling it. Don't let the warmth of the sun make you forget about those who love you fifteen time zones away.

Love always,
Molly

And,
Your Girlfriend who loves you

"It's 3 AM I Must be Lonely"

Question: What are normal people doing at three in the morning? Actually, what are normal people doing at three a.m. when they have a nine o'clock exam in the morning.

Not wanting to be out done by the norm, I was sleeping this morning at 3:00 a.m. however, I hadn't been sleeping for very long. I had quite a hard time falling asleep after studying and getting into bed at 12:30. I had Christmas carols running through my head incessantly. When I finally got rid of them it was Emminem running through my head, keeping me awake.

Finally I fell asleep. Finally.

Then, I heard a noise. I looked over at the clock. I read 3:00. I couldn't figure out what the noise was. It was coming from my computer. Still half asleep and groggy, I turned on the screen, and there was my Skype, going off. My moron boyfriend (I mean boyfriend who I love and miss!!) was calling me.

"Hello?" I mumble.

"Hey! What were you doing?"

"?? SLEEPING!!!"

"Oh... What time is it there?"

I know it is hard to compute the fifteen hour time difference between him and I. But I was awake now. We might as well talk.

"Oh, I thought it was three o'clock in the afternoon. I just got home to Cassie's" he says. "You have your exam in the morning? Oh, well then you should go back to bed."

"Well, now that I'm awake...."

"Nope, go back to sleep!"

So, I crawl back into bed. Bring on the Christmas carols running through my head keeping me awake again... .... ....

Diagonal Crosswalks

Despite Sackville pedestrians direct disrespect for vehicles, there is still one good reason to stand and wait for the pedestrian lights to signal WALK.

No Mount Allison student could survive in a big city. I'm surprised that many don't get run over first week out of university. We seem to forget that there is traffic, or run across the street anywhere at any given time. Lighted intersections are no different. If the cars have a red light and no one is about to turn right, then its fair game to cross, even if the walk lights say otherwise.

But, when the lights do say WALK, then you can walk in any direction. Including diagonal. All of the traffic is stopped for pedestrians in all directions.

Two days ago, Alicia asked me to meet her at Bridgestreet Cafe for coffee and lunch. I walked down to Bridgestreet and ordered a Hot Mint Chocolate and a broccoli and cheese quiche. As we sat inside this quaint little coffee shop, it started snowing. It has snowed already in Sackville this year, and once it stayed until morning, but by the time everyone woke to see it, the snow had pretty much melted. So here, out the huge picture window facing the Vogue theatre, were light snowflakes. After a few minutes, the streets and cars had a dusting of snow. And it felt like Christmas.

I wrapped my scarf around my neck and dug my hands into my mittens, and walked out into the snow. It had stopped by this point, but there was the new, crisp snow on the ground. As I walked through the park and along the path towards my house, I noticed the footprints. I always notice the footprints in the snow. My favorite part is stepping in a patch of snow where no one has ever stepped before. I'm making my own legacy through my footprint.


Along the path, there were three sets of footprints before mine. They were all walking in the same direction, probably together. They were walking in the same direction as me. It was not until I got to the end of the path that I came across a woman walking in the opposite direction. I wonder if she noticed.

That night, it snowed some more. I put electric Christmas candles in the window, and we turned on our outdoor Christmas lights. Through the street lights, it was evident that the snow was falling. It was not the blizzard-like conditions which were called for in Nova Scotia. But it was beautiful. The snow piled up, and we snuggled up into pyjamas with mugs of hot chocolate in our hands.

Now, the Christmas carols are playing, and the mug is still beside me.

On sitting in a coffee shop

The sounds of chatter and prattle encircle the room. Each a story; telling a story, thinking a story, denying a story. They carry aromas which sift over everyone's head, floating and dancing like the aurora borealis. Dark and light roasts melding into one fragrance. To each her own blend of bitter and sweet to make up the taste in her mouth; the cup in her hands; the movements of her lips and tongue and heart beat.

As they sip simultaneously, she talks to him, she has curled up on the chair, a book in her hands; she hums to the melody in her head; she just sips and stares at the imaginary orchestra above her. Each she's united in taste, understanding each other so much and so little. She wants to graduate; she wants to make them proud; she wants to be loved; she wants to disassociate.

To capture this moment in coffee cups and travel mugs is to embrace their spirits. They come in and leave; ordering for take-out or staring for hours. Each remain in the rafters, until one day the roof with be torn off and the aromas will lift into the air; they will fly away.

And she walks out to be roasted, labeled as house or decaf or french or espresso. Instead of blending, dancing, singing, they will lose their aromas to the frangrance-less void of the outside world.