Writing 201 – Elegy/Enumeratio – Farmer’s Market


I use to walk through downtown and adore the complex flavours,

But now I’m cold and wearing boots, winter comes to ruin our fun,

I could purchase so many organic items, at summer markets we would savour.

Winter steals our fruit, vegetables, baking, and wine –for there is no more summer sun.

I would live my Saturday’s with joy down the venue lanes,

Sipping on real lemonaid and smelling baking bread in the air, and I could buy,

Cherries in July so dark and red, bleeding sweetness on my lips and into my veins;

Apricots, pited, fuzzy orange, and devoured with a sigh.

Apple pies, the old fashioned kind; for that I’ll pay my money.

Baby carrots, little stubs, add some butter, after boiling some.

Rhubarb wine, bitter sweet, a drink, I swallow and it tastes like honey;

Or you could buy the real deal, natural honey from bees that hum.

I make my way to other venues with jewelry and clothes, trying on a designer dress —

From Cinder & Smoke, and I buy a baby quilt all pink and white, for a little niece.

That market had everything, food, spices, necklaces, dog treats, items I’ve failed to impress. 

But now the wind sweeps through these empty streets with no market, may it rest in peace (until next year).

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Writing 201 – prose/internal rhyme – Oranges and Napes


You love the smell of oranges. That sweet tangy delicious citrus flavour; it’s something to savour. You peel off an oranges thick pebbled skin and reveal the oval shaped raw fruit within; oranges remind you of summer scrapped  from spring’s cold paw. Summer is a season with no reason if you can believe. Sometimes it just rains and it’s a pain but the farmer’s need it for harvest. There are a variety of skins that fruit and vegetables hide in. Squash is orange with blemishes; and egg plant purple and posh;peaches have a fuzzy skin. You love eating peaches it’s such a sin. Or maybe it’s baking them into a crisp; there’s also cherries — black, dark red — swallowing their pits is a risk; and baby carrots that are nubby, you need to wash them with a little scrubbing. 

There are all kinds of skin, but the most delicate skin is human. Think of baby thighs and tummies – the most precious skin of all. Or the skin at the nape of your neck; that spot is hot, with a thousand sensory spots which a man can follow playing connect the dot and make a shape. But then you are reminded, you are in the kitchen peeling off orange skin while his lips graze your neck ending with a feeling filled peck. You’re at a loss  as you eat your orange slices thinking of vices and lips at your nape when he leaned over you whispering words you never suspected. 

A Garden


Prompt: Tell us about a sensation — a taste, a smell, a piece of music — that transports you back to childhood.

There is an earthy acerbic smell around me and as I slowly pull the weeds up with my small hands I look around at the garden that takes up almost half our back yard. We ate organic before it was hip. To one side are the sweetest little strawberries you ever tasted and sunflowers with their tasty nutty flavour. There is parsley, mint, chives and probably some other spices hidden in our garden.

As you reach the middle of the garden are three to four rows of peas strung up on wire. Those more then anything remind me of childhood. Picking them to freeze for the winter, but mostly just eating them raw. Cracking a shell open and eating the sweet little balls of green and leaving the big overgrown peas to reseed the ground. Then there are the beans and everywhere inside those bushes hide these long medium thick crunchy green vegetables that I love fresh with butter and detest blanched and frozen and saved for winter months. There are cucumbers, mainly for pickles, zucchini for chocolate zucchini bread, carrots my little dog spunky eats if we’re not careful. She’ll leave just the tops if you let her.

Also, I can walk among the rows of corn that some years did splendidly and other years just withered. I can dig up red potatoes for stew and if I go far back there are prickly raspberry bushes where my other dog Nikki ate raspberries off of the ground and we carefully climbed into the bushes to find raspberries for freezing for jello desserts and ice cream sauces.

Not to mention we had this huge apple tree we use to climb as kids. Big apples and little apples of various kinds were grafted on that tree and we ate as many apples as we could until we were sick of them. There was home made apple sauce, apple juice, apple pies, and apple crisps. Both dogs use to take bites out of the apples on the ground, throw them up, and play with bitten apples. At the end of the season there were 40 different apples with one bite out of them.

My grandma had a garden too. So, gardens and fresh produce remind of being a little kid and eating all that fresh organic food. I remember long days help my parents pick beans or dig potatoes. And there were so many weeds to pull and too many bugs.

However, the strangest flower bloomed by the garbage cans and pile of compost in a bin in the back yard. Every year their were red roses peeking up beneath the grass. Hiding there like some forgotten unspoiled beauty in the crunch of vegetables.

A Week In Time


20140109-144018.jpgI began this past week recovering from an antidepressant called Elavil, and ended the week back on my feet and busy. I woke up early on Thursday to meet with my nurse who I meet with in addition to my psychiatrist. After 5 years I feel we have become friends but she works with EPIC (Early Psychosis Intervention Clinic) and although I began my mood disorder with a psychotic episode, since then I have been fine. I did testing with EPIC and all through the past 5 years my nurse has been there to help me and ease procedures, such as major medication changes that haven’t worked, between my Psychiatrist and I. Goodbye’s are always bittersweet but I am confident I can deal with my Psychiatrist well alone.

But I am seeking someone to talk to and just to help me weather the illness I am experiencing and perhaps suggest ways that I can

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do that. My friend who is doing her Master’s in Psychology had suggested before I go see a psychologist but I found that going to see one was quite expensive and beyond my budget. But if I can see a psychologist through the clinic I see my psychiatrist at I think that would work better and it would be free. I just think it would be extra support having learned my Occupational Therapy was ended abruptly last May and now that I no longer have a nurse to talk to, it is something to take into consideration.

But about the good part of the week, A came back after a week of working due to stress. I feel bad that he is having trouble at work but I always miss him so it was great that I could spend almost 2 days with him. I was particularly spoiled when it came to meals. I am trying to diet but dinner at Chianti’s Thursday didn’t lend to me keeping a diet so well. I did the best I could and went for chicken with a mushroom cream sauce with zucchini, carrots, and potatoes. I didn’t eat the potatoes and the chicken was just the right size (about 5 oz) but the sauce was delicious. ( I also managed to catch Scandal, one of my favorite TV shows by Shawnda Rhimes, last night too. I love that show there are always so many twists and turns. Someone important got shot last night and I wonder who, Sirius’ husband or David?)

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http://www.trialx.com

Anyways, I was spoiled again today when my boyfriend made this yummy chicken dinner. It was sliced chicken on spinach with this vinaigrette (I think) of some kind and the way he spiced the chicken was so tasty. Then he stir fried up some vegetables — zucchini, onions, peppers — and I loved it. It has been my favorite meal he has cooked but he told me not to ask him to make it all the time. But I just might a time or two. I wish I could cook that good. It’s very sexy.

But I was anxious to get home and see how my Nikki dog is doing? She is almost done her 15 days of being on 2 pills of steroids and her paws and legs still have not gone back to normal size. I am worried for her. She is old but not that old and there is not a way to deal with rheumatoid arthritis beyond steroids. She is still not back to her old happy self. I think too because my Dad is away and because I was away 2 days, she gets depressed. She is not used to being alone since I have been home these past few years. She hasn’t been alone since the last year I worked.

In any case, a good week and I will be resting tomorrow, I think, and doing something the other weekend day. Take Care