Mother and Daughter Small talk

Mother (listening to daughter’s rap on the car stereo): I don’t get how people could dance to this.

Daughter (driving, quickly glances over to her mother): You just have to shake your booties.

Mother: Shake your booties?

Daughter: Ya, like Beyonce..

Mother (trying to picture herself shaking her booties) pauses then replies: I don’t think so.  It wouldn’t be flattering at my age, like watching a circus act. As a matter of fact, I don’t even think it would be as cute as elephants dancing.

(Daughter laughs).


Fun in The Sun


It was a lovely day, sun shining. Braily’s mother decided to break up the monotony of home routine. She had heard of a new playground on a farm that also had a petting zoo. When arriving, she sat on a bench and let Braily explore. Straddling over the grass, Braily walked straight toward the playground, a fulfilling place for a curious child for which her mother felt would also develop interests.

As Braily played attentively near a train shaped tubular wooden sculpture, she spotted a unique object with three wheels. Wobbling toward it, her short legs clumsily lifted above the recently cut grass. Across the field where the three-wheeler stood was a small track. She finally reached the mysterious three-wheeler. Studying it carefully, her small hand cupped the handle bar. Funny that she didn’t try to get up on it. Makes one wonder what little minds think when they find something new where everything around them is a first. Slowly she studied it before getting bored and moving on to a slide that was attached to a shape of a ship back towards the playground area.

Braily didn’t say much yet. Her fair skin was lightly coated with sunscreen. She was dressed in her everyday wear and at an age where little minds were easy to please, there wasn’t much her mother needed but a snack to break up her play that also wound her down for the nap.

Being close to Braily’s nap time, her mother rose from the bench and followed Braily to the ship. There was a ramp rather than steps to board the ship so a little tyke such as Braily could manage the slide quite easily on their own. Her mother stood close regardless just in case. After a few times down the slide, her mother took Braily by the hand. “You want a snack?” she asked softly. It got Braily’s attention off the playground. “Let’s have something to eat.” Little two-year-old Braily contentedly followed as it ended playtime perfectly.

My Thanks


It is my greatest pleasure to thank you who are from US and the UK for being one of my biggest supports of my blog. I hope you continue to be a big part of what makes my blog a success. Thank you Canadians who have also visited the most in 2014. May this year continue to be read by you and may many more people from other countries visit.

I’d also like to take this time to wish bloggers a successful blogging year and hope to catch more of your posts too. This new type of entertainment is vastly populated with bloggers and many of us strive to bring new thought and entertainment so may we all have a place in someone’s heart.

A Child’s Bedtime Prayer: Dear Lord


Dear Lord, for it is said that thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven so may we all be sheltered, cared for and fed. May we be forgiven as many times as we can forgive over and over again. Now I shall lay me down to sleep dear Lord. I pray my soul to keep another day. May the angels watch over me and keep me safe throughout the night that when I wake I may be in their blessed sight throughout the day.


Canada Day

Canada day is just another day these days. I haven’t taken in any activities nor seen fireworks. I use to enjoy it but these days I find there really isn’t anyone to enjoy such days with. I also seem to miss where and what is going for Canada day. I’m sure it will not always be and I will get a chance to enjoy it again. Happy Canada Day to you. I’m a few days late on getting this out.
Happy July 4 USA

Take it One Day at a Time

I normally don’t do revision in a different post but I decided to do one for this. I titled the revision One Day at a Time under Touring places, Reposts.


The frigid temperature chilled the bone but the frost on the trees were inviting. I saw my breath with every exhale. From the corner of my eye, I saw a white coat of frost on my hair but I kept walking. In daze, my thoughts run deep: the troubles, the work load and that woman. I thought after a year in the field of nursing I would have built a shield of armor but instead I felt more and more sympathetic. During studies they said don’t get emotionally attached to your patients but I never saw this coming. Everyday his wife was in and the look on her face when she lost her husband was haunting: Those eyes, the fear in her face and all I could say to her is, I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop rehearsing it in my head. I felt so sad and I kept wondering if there was more I could have done.

I never lost a patient whom I cared for since entering the field. I don’t know whether I could get over this or deal with another case as devastating. I was now questioning my career. I didn’t want to go back. “I have two more shifts, that’s all. I could do this,” I whispered. Leaving the park, I began walking home.

Where had the time gone. I looked at my watch, 4:30. The sun was setting. Short days made it feel later than it was. I walked up to my door, fingers stiff, I unlocked it and went in. I slipped off my shoes and settled on the sofa. I turned the television on. Scrolled through the stations but nothing on the TV got my attention. I finally turned it off. I strolled into the kitchen and searched the fridge for something to snack on. I didn’t really want to eat but I had to have at least a small bite of something. I put together a bologna sandwich and poured a glass of orange juice. I sauntered back into the living room and sat on the sofa. I put my feet up on the ottoman and sat in silence. I just wanted quiet for now and hoped these feelings of dread and despair would pass.

My last two days of work went by fast. It was now my days off and I felt a slight relief, a weight off my chest. I know this field of work can have its ups and downs. I hoped after my days off I’d get my strength back. I called my friend and planned an evening: dinner, movie and end with a drink at the nightclub. I hadn’t been out since starting my job. It was no wonder that I was a mess, all work and no play makes me a mess of a nurse.

My days off were a blessing in disguise. I felt refreshed and recouped. Getting out really had helped. My friend was so supportive and all we did was laugh and talk about the fun things we had done before I got busy and neglected myself of leisure. I was even ready to get back to work without dread.

The Power of Writing

The power of writing! From the news papers to magazines then stories and poetry are forms of writing that not only arouse the curiosity of the mind but stimulate thought. We read these because we want to know a story or feel the poetry that sings.

As one who likes to write, I say to you, you also have a story that is worthy and interesting to tell so share it. Share it everywhere you can and don’t be afraid to write because if you read it then you know that someone will also be reading yours. Nor should you let criticism interfere with your dream. I grew up with a lot of it, which amazes me that I have continued to progress and still try new things. I had mentioned in another one of my posts about a teacher who put me down when I was young. I could have given up then and never tried again. Just to mention another incident that is of a more recent was with my husband. He criticized me for returning to school. He said I’d just quit anyway. He was wrong to say that because I never did quit. It created a heated argument for which I have on occasion reminded him so remember that husbands if you want to save face with the one you love. Anyway, I think he associated it with me stopping after the year ended and not going back to finish right away with quitting. I was deeply hurt nevertheless. I have succeeded in the end because I didn’t give up. Through many of these types of unnecessary comments, I managed to continue in my journey. I hope you do the same.

Writing is a very powerful tool that speaks to readers like nothing else can. When you write about your knowledge, feelings, experiences it touches someone who may have had the same or enlightens someone to a world they may not have known. Writing has a place and purpose. It educates, develops and stimulates the brain. It cause us to think. Don’t be afraid to use it. Shine in it.




I always felt I was wrong when I commented about dialect of the Cree and would get told “You mean dialog” until I finally was confident as to what I was referring to. I’m not sure if many are unaware of what dialect refers to but I was talking about the language used and how different dialects exist in Cree: There is the “y”, “N” just to name two types. Now that I’m confident about the difference between dialect and dialog I know that I’d been right. I thought I’d share this post with you as to the dialect issue. If anyone feels they get the same response, you’re not alone. It’s quite common to get corrected in error. It’s too common to automatically think a person is referring to dialog when expressing dialect of languages because it’s also spoken.