What a Mess

Posted on July 21, 2025 by hafong

There are no easy days even when good things happen. We had what seemed like a huge deluge of rain last evening. You could not see out of the windows from the onslaught. While the moisture is still much appreciated, we are left with a mess of mud, dead leaves and other debris. The rains are also promoting the growth of those creeping creepy bellflowers that has taken over our front yard. I had spent last summer trying to dig them out of one flower bed. Now they’re all back. They’re impossible to rid. It’s no exaggeration that what I feel is despair when I look at them. But I will not go the chemical route.

So I found myself digging again this morning, the soil being very wet and soft. I could only do so much before tiring. I planted 2 clumps of false sunflowers in their place. My plan is to crowd them out with perennials. That and sporadic digging, weeding and mulching. I’ve had some success with these methods in other parts of the yard. Realizing that, I’m not feeling quite as hopeless. There’s still hope.

Talking about hope, I am sad to learn that Johanna Macy, author of Active Hope has died. I have the book for many years and have yet to finish reading it. That has been me, collecting and not finishing reading. I will have to find it and read it. Maybe I will learn to be more active and not give in to these moments of despair. Sometimes it is hard, especially when there is smoke in the air again. But I will try.

Making Shine

Posted on June 8, 2025 by hafong

A windy Saturday morning. The sun is trying its best to shine through the grey sky. It’s a cool 12℃, feeling like 6℃ the weather app say. It is cool and the air is smoky. Rain in the forecast but no sign of it yet. It is hard to feel cheery and hopeful but it does no good to be morose. So I’m trying hard not to be. I made a walk to the greenhouse. It’s a cozy 22℃ with the door closed and just a side vent opened for ventilation. The snowpeas are still in their prime with new growth. I’ve harvested a lot of peas already. Hoping for more. The cucumbers are coming along. They have blooms but will be awhile before we will get something to eat. 2/4 bitter melons are ok. The other 2 are struggling along, being attacked by aphids. I have sprouted a few more seeds for insurance. There’s still time.

Life still goes on regardless of whatever hardship we are going through. The sun still rises in the east and sets in the west. It’s what we call a day. It is up to each individual to choose how they will navigate the time between the two. Many days I feel hopeless and gloomy. Many days I want to vegetate and not do a thing. I know, and we all know, that no action means no change. Wishing and a-hoping are not actions. They’re just words from a song. So I try to shine the best and any way I can.

It’s getting out of bed every morning, getting dressed, brushing my teeth and showing up at the breakfast table, doing the dishes, sweeping the floor, putting away things.

It is Sunday afternoon. I haven’t been good at putting things away lately. My snow boots are still hanging out on the deck. The deck is still littered with all my pottting soil and containers. There’s no place to sit. I’ve been meaning to tidy up and put things away. I haven’t put anything away and meaning to doesn’t do the job. I just have to do it. That’s all. It is quite simple and yet not. I will tend to the boots and make a start on the containers once I’m done here.

We had a bit of rain last night. It took away the smoke and the sun came out this morning. It’s still a bit windy but it was a good day for us to pour libations for our mother and grandparents at the cemetery this morning. It was a bit strange not to have our mother to guide us in the ritual. We did the best we could. We lit incense sticks, bowed and pour libations for our grandfather, grandmother and mother. Then we burn paper money to ensure their well being and prosperity. Then we departed to the Mandarin Restaurant for dim sim.

UBC Day 18 – The Meanness of Strangers

Posted on July 18, 2023 by hafong

It rained last night. We were busy this morning emptying the water from the 2 large tubs used to catch the runoffs from the garage. If we are not quick enough, the neighbour will empty it out onto the back alley. We have a small patch of potatoes right by the tub, where she could empty the water. She doesn’t. It’s just plain meanness pouring it out into the alley.

She is a stranger even though I’ve lived next to her for 15 years or so. I also find her strange. One of the first advice people would give me is to communicate and get to know her. But that is the worst thing that I could do – trying to engage. I’ve learned that after years of such mistakes. And of course, some people think that it is I, who is the problem. It’s a double hurt but it has taught me something about people. I’m reminded to listen first, without judgement. It taught me to just listen and not blame the speaker.

I did some transplanting in my flower bed at the front of the house after emptying the water tubs. I’ve been lucky and timely. Right after that, it started raining again – on and off for most of today. I’ve emptied the tubs again just now. I’ve filled all the pails and started putting the water into our raised garden beds. My Roma tomatoes are already loving it. They’ve perked up, unfurling their curled leaves. Water is valuable. Nothing grows/thrives without it, including ourselves. It rankles me to see my neighbour purposely throwing it away because she doesn’t like me or the way I garden and landscape my yard.

I try not to hold her in my thoughts because it is toxic. And I try not to speak of her for the same reason. But when it rains and there’s water to catch, I can’t help acknowledging her into my consciousness. I acknowledge, accept, move the water, let her go and lock the gate. Life is short. Meanness is bad. I have no time for it.

TOWARDS WINTER SOLSTICE

Posted on December 15, 2021 by hafong

December 15th. Winter solstice is just a week away. I had good intentions of being here regularly but I’ve only shown up twice. Bad on me! Intentions don’t mean beans when they’re not kept. But I am here now. My moods still can turn on a dime. The difference now is I know the exact instant they do. I pull out my tools and do an inquiry. I’ve read enough of Byron Katie’s The Work. I know to ask the 4 questions:

Is it true?
Can you absolutely know that it is true?
How do you react, what happens when you believe that thought?
Who would you be without that thought?

Then there’s Tara Brach’s RAIN. It stands for:

Recognize what is happening.
Allow the experience to be there, just as it is.
Investigate with interest and care.
Nurture with self-compassion.

Recognition of the moment gives me an opportunity to pause and to take note. I don’t have to react and behave in old patterns. I can choose how it is that I want to behave, therefore changing the way I feel. I tell myself that because this is new, I might not feel comfortable or good immediately or even soon. It will take time to gel. I tell myself it is a new adventure, a new skill like learning how to cross country ski, ride a bike, to swim, to make sourdough….

Going toward the shortest day of the year is a grand adventure this year. I’m thinking of the darkness as a warm nest wherein we can rest and sleep. Then we can emerge on the other side, rejuvenated and ready to face the lengthening days as we progress towards spring and all that it promises.

JUST TALKING

Posted on August 22, 2021 by hafong

August 21 and day 21 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I’m starting to sound like a broken record. It’s another busy day. I don’t think I can finish this post but I thought starting might give me some inspiration. I’ve been feeling extremely busy and tired. I gave myself a pass from my aerobics class on Wednesday and Friday but I swam this morning. I rarely miss my Saturday morning swim knowing that the water always make me feel better. Most Saturdays I have the pool to myself. I had to share with another today.

Guess what? It is August 22 and day 22 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. It is raining in Saskatoon. I feel exquisitely tired, achy and grateful. It is not the best timing for rain for the farmers but I am sure we are all thankful for it. It’s not like we have a say in the when. And the yard and plants look beautiful in grey mist.

I like to stand inside the greenhouse (there is no place to sit) and just breathe in the sweet fragrance of the bitter melon. It’s especially restful on a rainy morning. My tiredness, aches and pains seem to ease in the warmth and breath of this living atmosphere.

I have 3 bitter melons on the grow, the third one just a baby. I hope it grows up. I disturbed the petals while trying to pollinate it. A couple of petals fell off.

Autumn is certainly in the air. Winter will be upon us before I am ready for it. The thermal rock wall is almost finished. It is used to moderate the temperature inside. It will absorb heat from the sun during the day and release it at night. I still have lots of growing things inside that’s taking up space – the tomatoes, peppers, eggplants not to mention the cucumbers which are still very productive. I have to think about finding space for and how to start a winter crop. Maybe tomorrow. And you know what they say about tomorrow. Maybe I can prove them wrong.

GLORY DAYS – Day 13 in a year of…

Posted on August 4, 2016 by hafong

Day 13, August 4, 2016 @4:05

These are truly the glory days of August. My garden is flushed with delicious vegetables. Let me not squander the days away with stinking thinking, bad attitude, foul mood or low blood sugar. Afternoons can be treacherous. A cup of tea and a couple of chocolates to make me more agreeable. It does not help that Sheba is dogging in my footsteps wherever I go. Possibly she is also seeking sugar replacement.

Mornings are the best for setting intentions. And so I sat with Melli O’Brien and Tami Simon of Sounds True and learned about total body breathing. It is an episode from the Mindfulness Summit, October 2015. Today I am focused on learning to enjoy the process of sewing a blouse – being patient and deliberate with each step. In the past, I have rushed through to the end product, missing the beginning and the middle – missing the joy, missing a lot.

Now I see it is really not my stinking thinking or low blood sugar. It is really a storm brewing in my head. It has just burst open. I’m tap, tapping to the rhythm of pounding rain on the aluminum roof of the deck. It is very strange and beautiful. The rain came raging out of nowhere. I am very fortunate to have this wonderful space to sit and watch, surrounded by it all.

The rain have passed. I can show you the glory in the garden. Come, let me show you. It is my rainbow after the rain.

BIRDS ON A WIRE

Posted on May 4, 2016 by hafong

It’s another Wednesday and another photo prompt for Friday Fictioneers to tell their stories of approximately 100 words. We are hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple. Here’s my story of 100 words this week – inspired by this photo, the heat and Leonard Cohen.

HOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

There was tension in the air. You can almost feel it crackling like tinder under a match. Her heart raced and thudded. It felt like a stallion was galloping through her chest. Any minute now. It was coming. She was sure.

The sky was grey and ominous. Enormous clouds hung over the rooftops. The telephone wires drooped heavy with crows, gathered and waiting as if for a funeral.

Where could she hide? Just then a bolt flashed across the sky. She clapped her hands over her ears as thunder rumbled and shook the walls. The rain came. She was alright.

THE KISS

Posted on May 20, 2015 by hafong

It’s not quite Friday, but close enough for Friday Fictioneers. We are hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple. We gathered every week to share fictions of 100 words according to a photo prompt. You are welcomed to join in the fun. Here’s my 100 words.

I remembered the last time he kissed me. It was raining cats and dogs. We were in a tight embrace, huddled under his big, black umbrella. The kiss was long, sweet and wet as the raindrops falling around us. I held onto him tight, trying forever, never letting go.

When will we see each other again? Will we ever see each other again? What good are promises? Oceans lay between us. Continents separate us. Years of history divide us. Out of sight. Out of mind.

So I held onto him, laid my face against his chest. Teardrops kissed my cheek.

MORE RAIN AND NO SHINE

Posted on June 22, 2014 by hafong

It rains still. How many days now? I have lost count. But Sheba and I are strong. Every morning we don our black rain gear and we walk our talk – neither rain nor sleet. Hush! I better keep my mouth shut. Even if it is the end of June, you just never know what the weather will do.

We’re not as glum as we look. It’s hard to do selfies and to get both of us in one shot. My arm isn’t long enough and the iPhone screen is not that big. This is the best I could do.

Last night I was sitting at my desk in front of the window. Sheba was at my feet. Thunder rumbled. A big bolt of lightning flashed and crackled right before me. I screamed. Sheba jumped up, barking. My window was opened. The neighbour yelled “SHUT UP.” The rain poured.

Wonder Woman. Art by Terry Dodson.

Such is the energy surrounding the home and hearth at times. I know what Shakespeare mean when he writes something stinks in the state of Denmark. But I am Wonder Woman, the warrior princess of the Amazon. I can ward off stagnant and malevolent energies with my magic bracelets. I can lasso the demons with my golden rope. So you are warned.

God answers back with a rumble of thunder.

RAINY DAY LAZIES

Posted on June 18, 2014 by hafong

It’s been raining on and off all day. It’s coming down hard as I speak, the rain spattering and running down the window. But it is one of those easeful, lazy kind of day. It is the kind that spells REST.

Sheba and I did go for our walk this morning. We both got dressed in our black rain gear and splashed our way through the puddles at leisure. What’s a little rain? The traffic around the neighbourhood was something else. With so many road detour blockage, our normally quiet side streets were abuzz with cars going every which way. Then a cyclist rode up behind us and rang his bell. Sheba did not like that! It was NOT relaxing.

I was not completely lazy. I managed a thing or two. I dusted my rock and seashell collection that I had brought back from Ghana. I listened to the music of Loreena McKennitt. I drank tea. Reading someone’s blog post on discovering your purpose and your calling, I discovered in that moment I didn’t want a purpose or a calling. I wanted just to live my life for myself. Would you call that selfish?

Selfish or not, I am elated that I have definite feelings about something. I’m not willy nilly after all. How wonderful that I’m not another sailor lost at sea. I have a sense of direction. Maybe that is what purpose is.

I did some filing and clearing of the desk, but somehow no matter how many pieces of paper I move, things didn’t look any better. But I remembered what Anne Lamott said about messes and clutter.

“But clutter and mess show us that life is being lived. Clutter is wonderfully fertile ground – you can still discover new treasures under all those piles, clean things up, edit things out, fix things, get a grip. Tidiness suggests that something is as good as it’s going to get. Tidiness makes me think of held breath, of suspended animation, while writing needs to breathe and move.”

And she is right! I am happily tapping away in my clutter, finding little nuggets in my piles.

onethousandandtwo

Looking at Infinity

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