It started with a search to WordPress.com that made me remember this site. Discover the Lexeme was born out of my desire to write about the world and share my photography. The focus of its content different from my personal blog about living with bipolar.
Here, on this site I started with word of the day entries, then suddenly I stopped. The motivation to write dwindling into much less than an amber of inspiration. My photography I posted more on Facebook and Instagram. I’m happy to say I feel I’m ready to get back into writing again. I never stopped taking photos. Taking a leap of faith, and a dose of boredom, I’ll be attempting to write at least once a week. Maybe I can set it aside on my calendar of ‘to do’ list. Anything is preferable to this sitting around waiting for more grey hair to appear over the long cold days of winter.
Today it is negative 23 Celsius. A weather advisory to stay indoors due to the frigid cold. I have no problem with staying warm so inside I will stay, hot chocolate and treats included.
Cast upon the world your nets of hopeful wealth and reel back your bounty. What treasures do you behold, captured in the knotted sinew?
I cast out my net each evening before I go to bed. As I drift off to sleep I wonder what I will see come morning light. The treasures that come late in the night through my dreams are not all mine to keep, so they flow right on through the openings. Those that remain are memories of you.
Of times when we laughed at silly childish things. Of the dancing in circles while others joined in celebration of the simpler times in our lives. These fragments of us are what is caught in the evening net.
In the morning, I cast the net out again hoping to capture more wealth. I am not a greedy person! Through the day I go about my business with everyday things. The mundane, meaningful life of adults in a complex world. My mind doesn’t think back to the net for the entire day, until after sunset.
As the sun is setting I retrieve my net for the second time. Inside it a different bounty awaits. For inside the blackened threads are the golden words of wisdom. These remind me that I have survived today. Through the void of dissociation and depersonalization of self, all the words repeat the same message — You are you, regardless of your name.
My net is filled with a wealth not of money, but of memories. From there I can pull from all that I need to sustain my voyage of life.
If we were having coffee you’d see me stressing over the money being spent today as I listen to the roofers banging away while they fix up the leaking roof of our 90 year-old house. When we purchased our home a little under ten years ago I knew it would come with some repairs; I just didn’t think the roof would be one of them so soon.
Having plaster walls we seldom give little concern to the subtle cracks that constantly appear. Last weekend though things began to look rather bleak. When my husband and I returned from the trailer our daughter informed us that her bedroom ceiling had been leaking through the night during the heavy rainfall.
My husband had a roofer come look yesterday morning to determine where the problem might be. Upon inspection they both immediately spotted where the leaking was coming from. Shingles were missing creating a way for the water to get in. We don’t know how long this had been going on since spring rains have just started here, but we had been noticing shingles on the ground since last fall. We have a neighbour with a bad roof, and assumed that they were his. I guess we were wrong.
This isn’t the first time this old house has leaked. We have an on going issue with the mysterious leak in the mudroom. This roofer says he knows how to fix it though. I’m hopeful he does. We have already had that roof re-shingled once before. The issue with it seems to be a result of bad flashing between the tiny roof and the house. He assures me this will be done properly, so that there be no more waterfall effects in the doorway leading to the kitchen when the rain comes. The dog will be thankful since that’s right where her bed is.
I’m trying my best to keep on the positive side of thinking knowing the leak is being handled before today’s rain. Also, that as I watch the workmen outside, I feel assured that it isn’t my husband up there trying to do the repairs himself.
If we were having coffee the first thing you’d notice is our oldest cat Big Ben, or Ben for short. I think he’s around 18-20 years old now. We don’t know his real age because he was a rescue with a sad tale of abandonment.
Don’t you worry though. For the last 15 or so years he’s enjoyed the good life. He’s an indoors man, who gets to bask in the warm sunlight and eat all day long. He sleeps comfortably wherever he wishes. He’s a talker too. Open up a cheese slice, and he chatters non-stop. Unfortunately he can’t have the treats like he once did, but he does manage to talk you into a just a wee bite.
Ben is a very loving cat. The down side to his love is his thick coat. The white hair is everywhere! No matter how much I vacuum it still remains. I have to warn people all the time that if they begin to pet him, they will leave with part of him. His hair clings to everything.
We love Ben! He’s the most interesting cat in the world, and we will be sad to see the day when we have to say our good-byes to him. Hopefully that won’t be anytime soon.
I’m 47 years old, a mother of four and married to a man who thinks I’m beautiful! Life should be great. Yet, the nagging thoughts of those bumps, rolls and shall we call them ‘curves’ can cause me great personal pain.
As I look back on the photos of my 20’s I see my younger body, with the tight tummy, the tiny little breasts and the tighter butt. Now though through a combination of age, bad diet and lack of exercise I’m about 2x the size I was back then. I was a 5, now I’m a 10/12 in dress sizes.
There was a time I use to really beat myself up over my new curves. I stopped doing that, most days. Instead I see myself the way my family does, especially my husband.
He’s always adored this body, no matter how big those curves got. He mentions that I still have great hips with a waist curve he can’t get enough of. So for women out there that are looking into their mirrors and see only the negative, look again. Those curves are what make us women. They define our beauty. For every curve there is a reason for it being in just that right place.
So be proud, and never regret not having the straight body…because women let’s be honest even those girls have curves, they are just more subtle.
Have you ever walked out to the parking lot only to realize that you’ve lost your car? It stirs a moment of incredible worry for some people. Of course you do eventually find the vehicle, and with a sigh of relief you drive home or to your next destination.
Now consider this. Perhaps it was your bike that you’ve lost. You had chained it up as safely as you could using the best gauge of metal, wrapped in thick plastic and with a custom keycode. It should be in the same place when you return, but it isn’t. It’s gone!
In our community this is called borrowing. It’s outright stealing, but the difference is that the individual who took your bike just needs it to go from point A to point B. They do not want to sell it.
I’m not sure what is going on in peoples’ minds today towards value of property, or of self. It all seems to be steady slipping away. Is that what we have become? Are we developing into such a society that we proceed to infer that we own everything, and that everything can be bartered for.
There are many things in life you cannot borrow, yet we make reference to that phrase all the time. “Can I borrow you for just a minute?”, is a favorite of mine. Actually no, you can’t because once my minute is gone, it’s gone.
Borrowing, to me has become an excuse for not taking responsibility for your own self. It’s a poor excuse, but one that has become prolific. So please, stop borrowing! Ask politely to use other peoples time, energy, resources, and possessions, then give it back. If you don’t return the borrowed items, then you have stolen it from the individual who generously gave it to you.
If we were having coffee you would see the smile on my face as I think about you.
Today the morning sky is bright and blue; yesterday they were filled with grey bleakness. I love days that begin brighter, but I miss you. They show me that each day passes, with a new one taking it place.
This morning I got up, ate breakfast, and went to work. Just another typical Saturday, but without you.
The house is quiet, except for the roaring sound of the furnace as it blows its warmth into the chilly rooms, reminding that you are gone. There is no one else here. I am alone in my thoughts. My memories flash to times that we laughed, cried, fought and loved. I miss you.
I know we’ll see each other soon enough. When you return, and we sit under the stars, I will listen to the wondrous adventures you had while we were apart. In my heart I will wonder have you missed me as much as I have missed you?
Silence is not golden. Harsh words said in anger cause lasting pain. Subtle messages disguised as jest perpetuate the undercurrents of the changes we want changed.
When words are never spoken the world continues as it always has. There are loud voices, and there are small ones too. It’s interesting to see how technology has changed the way we use the power of words to influence those around us.
Combining our message with video, cartoons and emoticons we have developed a new language. A new age of communication that seeks to inform the world of what we will and will not stand for; inequality, hatred, abuse, suffering, war, etc., yet at the same time we continue to expose the pain of others for our enjoyment.
It would seem no matter how you look at which side you stand for, positive or negative there will always remain a mix. Don’t believe me? Have a look at what you read, shared online, or have captured in prose or image. What pleasure have you derived from this? What message did you expect from others?
In a complicated world of mixed messages it is no wonder we are confused about the issue of peace, love, and personal worth when there is always the opposite directly in our path.
If we were having coffee, it would be outside on Sunday morning at 6:30 am with our cameras fighting the bitter cold winds, while trying not to fall down on the ice covered concrete of the boardwalk. Ah yes, the quest of every photographer – the morning light.
Living on the shores of the St. Clair River across from Port Huron, Michigan the northern winds can cause the waves to crash up to 30 feet high, and pushing the spray up to 80 feet back from the shoreline. The resulting chilly wonderland is breathtaking when the temperatures drop.
After the heavy winds of Saturday subdued, I seized the opportunity get up early and capture the golden hues of sunrise as it pushed through the cloudy skies before yet another snow storm hit our city. While the storms have been small, the ice they leave behind is amazing!
While the following morning lacked the splash, the images where just as beautiful. My only wish is that it hadn’t been so cloudy. The slightest pink sunrise was very fleeting, and the poking of the sun was all too brief to get some sparkling images of the ice.
I’m sorry I missed our coffee date this weekend, but the benches were too cold to sit on anyway.