At home

Anybody home? (Photo: R. Bergen Braun)

I’ve been thinking about home. I’m at home, so I guess what I’m really thinking about is being here – here in our so-and-so many square feet – and what that represents for me at the moment. Fall is in the air, for one thing, which means winter is coming, and winter is a time I love a lot. In winter home becomes even smaller and quite specific in being not the house and deck and garage and yard but the inside: these rooms, this furnace-provided warmth, these windows facing the low bright southern sun, these blinds against the early winter dark.

We’ve also been away for weeks at a time over the past months and now we’re home again without any immediate plans to leave. So I’ve been enjoying that too, settling back in with the projects centered in this place. One of those projects – more like an interval of particular happiness – concerns a week in October when our children and six grandchildren will all be coming “home” for a Thanksgiving family gathering. Continue reading

Remembering my Aunt Gertrude

She was “not always nice,” stated my cousin Wilma in her tribute to our aunt Gertrude (Harder) Klassen at her funeral last Monday. I smiled; I heard some chuckles. Yes, we all knew what she meant. Other words that came up to describe our aunt in the course of the day were “direct,” “forthright,” “feisty,” “determined,” even “intimidating.” Continue reading

Life while away

Almost three weeks I’ve been away — west to British Columbia and then east to Ontario — and in the true spirit of Away, I’ve not been blogging, except for that quick previous post about history meeting and history making on June 5. I like to concentrate on holidays or visits or whatever it is that takes me away. But my neglect also reflects the zone I still inhabit technologically. Blogging adheres to my writing work, which in its turn adheres to places and routines such as my home office, my own desk and computer, a particular view out the window, and the hours I give to being in that room, fed by thoughts gathered in the daily rituals of kitchen and yard and relationships, and in books undertaken in my several favourite reading spots. In other words, blogging — for me — isn’t handheld yet, isn’t easily portable.

Which isn’t to say that I haven’t been gathering all manner of experiences while away to think about further, and that I haven’t been reading, which travels along as easily and necessarily as my toothbrush. These weeks have swung the gamut of life’s highlights, in fact, from Birth to Death and the celebration of a child’s major Milestone, and I’ve been into several fine books. But now I’m back, re-settling Home and the routines of my work, and then I remember, oh yes, Borrowing Bones… Continue reading