My Own Song

 

I’m singing my own song

And I’m writing it too

Sometimes I’m brilliant

And sometimes it’s poo

 

I don’t care for noise

But the sound of a song

Country, pop or jazz

It just can’t be wrong

 

Classical notes form

A bridge for the ear

All other music

Began I think here

 

The song I am writing

Is dear to my heart

It helps me to focus

And where next to start

 

My past in a word

It simply was great

Love and adventure

Full was my slate

 

My song is not finished

I have years still to write

Experiences to live

The future is bright!

Minimalism

I am a big fan of home renovation and decorating programs. One of the trends I find particularly intriguing is that of minimalism. In its simplest terms it is where you get rid of your junk. Now I like the concept but the reality is untenable, at least for me. I like my stuff.

I recently had a friend over to my place and we were talking about decorating and I was explaining the history behind, well, everything. Perhaps it is my nature but everything I own seems to have a story. There are the very heavy bookends that my father bought before I was born. They are horse heads and I’ve always loved them. Or the China horses I collected when I was small child. Of the many I did have only a few have survived the 50 odd years they’ve been around.

Then there are my paintings. I have a lot of them. I actually change them seasonally because I get bored easily. There are the chairs that used to belong to my grandmother or the one chair at my front door that I used for my first attempt at camping. It is a beautiful, hand carved wooden chair that I put a blanket over top of and pretended I was camping. That’s my history.

Of course, the other problem is, I like things. I like pretty things. I like wooden bowls and metal bowls and handmade . . . bowls? Oh my good heavens! I collect bowls! See, pretty creeps up on me. Most of these bowls are bought from a company that engages in Fair Trade. They’re not out to make a big profit for themselves. The artisan that makes the item is paid a portion upfront and then when the item is sold, they get more. I feel good about shopping there. I feel less guilty about buying a unique item that is handmade and, well, pretty.

Would my life be better if I had less stuff? The proponents of minimalism believe so. I’m afraid I don’t. Yes, there is the concept of having too much stuff. Look at any program on hoarding and you will understand. I’m not a hoarder. But I do keep my stuff. I put things into boxes and now and then I pulled them out to exchange them with what is on display now. I like being reminded of my past, of the people that were important to me and that helped to mold me into the person I am today. And, I like my stuff.

Sorry God!

 

My Mother never left me

Those many years ago

With my Father by her side

She’s watching Heaven grow.

 

I know she thinks St Peter

Should polish up his act

Those politicians he let in

Really should go back.

 

Angel’s wings are handed out

To the many and the few

But really those deserving

Don’t get the all they’re due.

 

Heaven is a place

Of peace and gentle love

There my parents rest you see

To give blessings from above.

 

Time will come I know it

When Mom will run the show

God has done a bang up job

But Mother’s make it grow!