Rambling thoughts · Weekly blog post

The 5K Mother’s Day gift

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.

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Cracking and peeling ceiling

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.

 

Rambling thoughts · Weekly blog post

A little dose of cat hair

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.

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Ben – that adorable black mark on his nose

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.

Daily Post · Rambling thoughts

Do you miss me this much?

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?

Sunset sky

 

Photos · Rambling thoughts

Missed coffee due to ice storm

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.

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Frozen benches look like sculptures
Daily Post

A missed coffee date

If we were having coffee today Mom it would be wonderful!  It would be 13 too long.  Everyday I miss you, more so on days like today.  Joshua had to go to his great-aunts funeral, and we drove him to Petrolia.  The death was on his dad’s side.

On the drive out we chatted about how I’d like my funeral to be.  Jokes about bottom side up for parking the bike, to glass top casket with me naked and everyone attending coming as they were born.. nudge, they would all be naked too.  It lightened the mood.  You gave me a sense that life was about living, and I’d like to think I’ve passed that along your grandchildren.

Then we got onto the topic of the day of your funeral.  It was a great day.  You were always the joker, and even on that final day we let you do it your way.  We said good-bye on that cold November day, which also happened to be your birthday.  It seemed so fitting.

We had cake, balloons, and even sang “happy birthday” over your grave.  You gave us so much in life that death isn’t that scary of a thing.  Sadly even with all the rejoicing the pain didn’t stop.

Days like today I reflect back on those final few years we had together, and see so much more.  I wish we could have coffee so I could say how sorry I was for some of the things I had done.  At 47, I now understand some of what you were trying to impress upon me.

It’s too late to say the words I want to now, but I write them out.  To release the guilt, the pain I carry, and to say “I’m sorry” the only way I can.  You were the best mom I could have had.  I wish we could have coffee again.

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Looking for comfort in my coffee cup

 

Laura

#weekendcoffeeshare