Hubs and I have led atypical lives together. 9-5 was not the norm for us. There was nothing steady and predictable about our day-to-day. Jobs and financial security weren’t the norm either. There are times when we worry about our children who are apparently following in our footsteps by shirking steady, predictable lives, “You encouraged…

Footlights faces West. In the summer I’ll see an orangecrush-float sky foaming over the barn and the back fairway first thing in the morning, and a blushing pink candy floss sunset in the front forty fifteen hours later. I’ve been trying to get the perfect pictures, just two of them, to be painted and hung…

A harbour is a shelter for boats and ships to anchor, for safe-keeping, or for when there’s a storm. God is my shelter during the pandemic; In these tempestuous times… “…(He is) our harbor and our strength, a very present help in trouble.” Psalm 46:1 Let’s remember this and perhaps we can take some comfort…

These are odd times. Our lives have changed and will probably never be the same again.  A new normal is replacing the old. At Footlights Hubs and I keep ourselves busy to keep our minds off what we are missing. Trust me there are no shortages of ‘honey do’s’ around here. Both Hubs and I…

Our cats appear to be oblivious to social distancing… but then they do live in the same house, and haven’t been near anyone who’s tested positive, they wash their paws thoroughly, and sneeze into their elbows (I made that part up) and the only other animals who visited were wearing masks… or a very fancy…

This year, the expanded and screened in back patio that we completed last summer has come into its own, It faces east so catches the sun as soon as it comes up, it’s quiet, and very beautiful. As you can see I have panoramic views of the back fairway, I can watch the comings and…

I find it astonishing that the girl I grew up with at boarding school, the girl who made life barely bearable during my six years of convent living, the girl whose arm was continually linked in mine, vanished, like my crushed cranberry throw, that faded from dusky pink to a honey smear one summer; our…

For years now I’ve walked past a horse barn at the top of the lane and imagined being called over to help. It has long been a desire of mine to get to know horses. I’d love one to walk over to his gate and whinny at me in recognition like the dogs who run…

Without fail every year a little wren comes into my garage and builds herself a nest. She usually chooses a rubber Wellie, because they already have strong walls; all she has to do is fill it with sticks and leaves and grasses, fashion it a bit and lay an egg or two. This year I…

Sitting in bed one Sunday morning I heard what sounded like wind sighing loudly in the trees. I looked high into the woods, not a leaf was stirring. I continued with my papers and tea. The noise came again, once more I checked the movement of the highest branches… Stillness. “Did you hear that?” I…