Thank you for...

marywilkinson — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 11:40:39 -0800

Thank you for the yellow light way off in the distance, the only one that shines in the darkness of night.Thank you for the dog whining in his kennel because he knows of the warmth and comfort that exists in this house.Thank you for the cosy fleece lined boots and the way I can wiggle my toes freely without pain.Thank you for my tongue so that I can speak and state myself without ...

Write about Nothing

marywilkinson — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 11:19:52 -0800

I attempt not to write about the soup. I mean who wants to read about the Tuscan Bean Soup that I made today. About its fine qualities, about what it can do to a family in the middle of November when all is bleak and grim and dark and final. To say that it has magical qualities would be an understatement of sorts. No, I decided to write about something else altogether, something about hands and ...

The Unrelenting Wind

marywilkinson — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 06:39:18 -0800

The one good thing about having the flu is that I get to stay in out of the cold wet day and don sweat pants and a massive shapeless old woollen cardigan that hangs below my knees and I get to drink tea and listen to Bach. From my stance at the table I can safely admire the sky that is a dark and sullen grey and I am allowed to glean much delight from the tiny birds who still manage to take ...

Do's and Don'ts in New York city

marywilkinson — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 07:23:35 -0800

1. Do resist the urge to be smart with the immigration officer at the airport when he asks you for your DOB and place of residence even though all your details are on the computer screen in front of him.2. Do not panic when the cab driver, who is taking you to your hotel happens to drive at breakneck speed with his eyes half closed.3. Never, I stress never, request a king size bed in puny NY ...

Silence

marywilkinson — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 04:13:31 -0800

I wander through the house distracted by the unaccustomed peace that settles within the walls. I don't know why but it causes a certain unease in me, a vague distraction, a wonderment that this silence is what I always crave and yet, now that it is here, I struggle with what to do with it. I suppose I could reach up to dislodge the cobwebs and shake down the cushions or file away the ...

Jigsaw Puzzle Cows

marywilkinson — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 04:59:54 -0800

Melancholy day. Melancholy if you allowed it to be, if you allowed the sullen glob of sky, a heavy grey like substance squeezed from a tube, that is long past its expiry date, to penetrate and smother you with its dreary suffocating smear. And the fields around us have all transformed into brown lakes, the result of the deluge in the past few days and the poor bewildered cows, ...

Never say Never

marywilkinson — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 11:28:18 -0800

I am like a child again. Barefoot, I stand in the hallway beside a doorway in the middle of the night. I am eavesdropping on my parents' conversation. I should be in bed. My feet are cold, my nightgown too thin for the cold of the night that brings a chill through the door that hangs ajar. I listen. Nothing makes sense, their voices come low and speak only of an adult world.I am here too once ...

Wrapping up my Blog

marywilkinson — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 12:06:54 -0700

Where do I begin to begin to end? Why does it seem so difficult? Is it because I have been writing here on Red Room, for one long year now, on a daily basis, sometimes twice a day, whenever the fancy took me to jot down the moments that passed at Windsong, with my boys, the dogs, the garden,the hubby, the coffee pot, the clothes line, the grief, the regret, the longings, the sadness, the joys, ...

how it looks from the outside

marywilkinson — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 05:48:07 -0700

These days I have come to see that everything is temporary, that people are only shadows that exist for a short time until they dissipate like raindrops on a windowpane or sweetpea or whispers meant for only one and that quickly fall into the atmosphere to nothingness. A cascade of dust spores in an empty room - all fleeting. Why it's just the opposite to hearing the cuckoo in June, you count ...

Ordinary Things

marywilkinson — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 01:05:36 -0700

Ordinary ThingsA crow caws over the garden as if to herald a bad omen. I escape back through the open door, into the cello that bathes the room with tentative hope. I peel the potatoes until swirls of skin become a tangleof distorted notes scrawled on ceramic. I scoop the limp tendrils up into my hands and relinquish them to the bin. Naked potatoes glisten by the window where sunlight falls ...

Wrapping up my Life

marywilkinson — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 22:54:51 -0700

I wish that I could wrap up my life. Fold it into white tissue paper bound with a teal blue bow. I wish that I could place the wrapping up of my life where the sun is not too hot nor the wind too chill. Where the rain is ever soft and never has a sharp biting tongue. Where I place the wrapping up of my life there will forever be music, that sings like the gentlest wind, with wisdom left in ...

On Being Sentient

marywilkinson — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 13:56:14 -0700

A leaf fell from the tree and I heard it fall to the ground with a rustle or was it a crackle, anyway it sounded like a sheet of paper being crushed, so it was a blend of rustling and crackling. I had never heard a leaf fall until today. Of course, I've seen them fall many times. I am one of those people who looks out for falling leaves. I get a kick out of it, will even interrupt ...

That Light that does not Roar

marywilkinson — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 13:09:38 -0700

To the south of this house and immediately fronting it, there are no street lights. The bonus is that the sky is clearly visible when the clouds disperse and star gazing is a facility that we have taken for granted, for years now. The draw back might be in the case of an emergency, when in the dead of night, our blue gates might tend to look like any other colour and the Windsong sign could ...

Missy has a job!

marywilkinson — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 05:19:07 -0700

Missy is about to embark, no pun intended, on a brand new career. She is in the process of becoming an Irish Therapy Dog and I am proud to say, the first such volunteer in Galway. Her mission will be to help combat isolation and depression in the elderly, visit schools for people with special needs and will, at all times, be expected to perform in a non-judgemental and non-selective fashion ...

The Music Lifts

marywilkinson — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 07:16:30 -0700

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LU_QR_FTt3EDog leashes thrown on the patio and a pair of striped green flip flops, redundant in their purpose now lie forgotten beneath a vacant pink canvas chair that is sodden with rain and already beginning to fade. The umbrella needs to come down soon and be stored away in the garden shed until late Spring, when everything starts over again. Weeds appear ...