Posts filed under ‘blogs’

Notre Dame Fire and Holy Week

 

Whatever happened to cause the fire may be accidental, and that it happened in Holy Week, is unusual indeed. I saw a posting on Facebook today with  a link regarding the cross still being present in the midst of that black hole of burnt-out rubble and think that in itself is a miracle. I think we needed to see that miracle.

That the cross still matters and all that goes with it.

I’ve never been to Paris, have never seen that spire except in photos, and so many more photos this week as people recall a previous visit there (photo credit). That the building still stands after some 850 years is remarkable, and that people were still working on keeping the building strong is also worthy. It is after all, a building. And sometimes those edifices cannot be restored, though it looks as if this one will be.

The edifice represents a significant piece of history. To people of faith, it points upwards as a position of guidance, a place to worship, and a touch point in their lives when life gets messy, as in the wars, our human condition, when we’re not sure where to turn, and I hope also in times of celebration.

I may never see the structure in real life, but I’ll most likely hear of restoration efforts once the embers cool. My hope is that more people will come to know what this season is about, and what the cross means as a symbol of Christianity.

If there’s anything else to celebrate in the midst of this circumstance is that the fire, at some point, was contained and didn’t spread to the structures or the homes and buildings around it. And many will laud the firefighters for their work at containing the blaze as best they could and that artifacts and artwork within the building were saved. It would have been a challenge to consider entering that building to rescue those pieces, nevertheless, they are saved.

In the end, what is important is that human lives were not lost in that fire, though some likely risked their lives by going in. And that the promise of restoration will happen in that historic place, a historic symbol of France’s long history.

Patti Arbon

Photo credit© Patti Arbon, by permission

 

Advertisements

April 16, 2019 at 10:29 pm Leave a comment

Piece by Piece book signings

Piece by Piece.cdr

 

Please note that I have several book events already set up for Piece by Piece

 

April 13th, at Family Home Health Care Centre in Palmerston ON, from 11 am to 3 pm

May 11th, at Tavistock Public Library, Tavistock ON, at 11 am, reading and signing books

And I will be at the Tavistock Fall Fair in September. More news on that one later. All of my books available at this event.

More in planning stages

March 14, 2019 at 3:15 pm Leave a comment

Piece by Piece

Having a new book is very exciting. A lot of work goes in to getting it this far, including years of writing,  then editing, revision and even more editing.

Once the book is about to be released comes the task of letting people about the book and when it’s printed, getting it into other people’s hands. That can be fun or it can be daunting.

My book contains many stories about experiences, both good and challenging or sad. Everyone has those times. I share how it’s been for me.

Go about life as positively as you can. Gather the support of friends who can help you get through the tough times, know who you can lean on. And remember to celebrate the joys and achievements no matter how small. And know that God cares about you in all those circumstances.

 

Piece by Piece Book Cover

My book published by Angel Hope Publishing, Drayton, Ontario. Book events coming up. I’ll list them in a follow-up post.

March 6, 2019 at 1:59 pm Leave a comment

Poetry from a childhood place

all pictures 061

Me as a 6-year-old at home, ready for my first day of school

 

I was thinking on awakening this morning of stories in my first published book—stories of home and among them the poetry that spoke of those places.

We had an attic—which many older houses do—a space at the top of the house where things to go to sit awhile or be stored. For some items, not the best place but out of the way of a busy family and all its related belongings and conundrums.

My sisters and I went up there to play the old phonograph, dress up in old clothes, sort through old school papers that became yellowed and brittle in time in that warm place. Where we could look out to the road and over the fields at our farm. This was a place we retreated to now and then for short periods of time.

The poem came much later as an adult looking back and no longer living there. And now our home belongs to someone else. But in memory, it’s still ours.

 

Attic Playhouse

Under the roof is a playhouse

with its familiar odour of heat and yesterday

leather skates lean against each other

like fallen dominoes

March through December

 

outgrown Sunday shoes wait for the next pair of feet

castoff clothes crammed in a crumbling cardboard box

yellowed notebooks   -lined with ancient scribbles

 

crank the gramophone

inside its heat blistered  black box

 

it warbles a tune

in symphony with buzzing flies

hypnotized by the light of one window

and too dazed to find another exit

 

 

© Carolyn Wilker

published in Once Upon a Sandbox, 2011

 

once-upon-a-sandbox-thumb-325x479-1382

My first book, a collection of stories of family and community

February 20, 2019 at 12:27 pm Leave a comment

Wilderness Walking

This morning I posted at The Word Guild blog as I usually do, once a month. Today I reflected on what John the Baptist’s words may have felt to the people of his day. And how his being in the wilderness may have been significant to people at the time.  And how we connect with it.

 

Wilderness Walking

Our pastor spoke this Sunday about John the Baptist preaching in the wilderness, a place where all the usual rules are thrown into confusion. The mores of the day were set by priests and rulers. Everyone operated under their combined orders. Priests set the rules, according to their perceptions of obedience to God, and people followed them, or they didn’t, with consequences.
And then people heard about a man named John the Baptist who was preaching in the wilderness [Luke 3]. Word spread and more went out to see and hear him. John, it seemed, was out to turn everything upside down, smashing old rules, calling the religious leaders of the day to task, even going to the length of calling them white sepulchres. He told people of the army to be satisfied with their wages, warned the religious leaders about the practices they followed. Called others to share a coat if they had two, and for the tax collectors, to collect no more than what they were due.

The priests weren’t liking that, I’m sure. And neither were some members at the king’s palace. What’s more, John announced that he was a forerunner, that someone else was coming, and that he was only preparing the way. It didn’t bode well for John. Though many were willing to change, there were others who felt more comfortable following the rules they knew. A wilderness indeed.

Waiting this Advent season may seem like wandering in the wilderness, considering history leading up to that day. We wander around (or rush around), getting ready for the next big season and wonder what to do with ourselves. It feels that way in grief too…

Read more here.

 

 

Adrienne_tyler wedding-616

Imagining my parents dancing together again, only in heaven

December 11, 2018 at 2:03 pm 2 comments

Harry’s Trees, the picture book

 

Carolyn's Book Front Cover layout

 

Nearly two years ago at my  father’s funeral service, I looked around at all the preschoolers in our family and realized, though they’d been here this day, most of them wouldn’t remember their great grandfather and what was important to him. Family was topmost, but there was another significant interest in his life, as an individual, as a father and grandfather and farmer, and that was his care and concern for environment and his respect for what trees mean to us. They provide fruit, shade, they hold the soil together and they put oxygen into the air we breathe.  And they’re beautiful to look at when they’re full of blossoms in spring and as the leaves open. I love to watch that process too.

As a young boy, he’d climbed many of the trees on his parents’ farm—the farm that he would manage one day with our mother. There are more stories than I can share here in one post, but one I will share. When one of our black walnut trees was struck by lightning, it had to be cut down. Using his skills and tools, he used wood from that tree and lined a space in the kitchen wall as a china cabinet for some of Mom’s special plates and dishes and anything else worthy of showing off. That space is still there though the farm has been sold.

Back to the funeral day and my thoughts. That following week, I began to write a story for those small children. I didn’t know how it would evolve, but it did. It went through many versions and I submitted it to my critique groups, both the Revision group online with The Word Guild and my face-to-face group. I received so much helpful guidance for my revision. I named the book after my Dad and called it Harry’s Trees.

When my story neared completion, I got in touch with a young woman I’d met at a writer’s event. She was a trained artist and she was definitely interested in illustrating my book. The process took several months. In early January 2017, I had a book to distribute to my family. Then, of course, several friends who saw it wanted one too, and cousins and people outside that circle too.

With great thought, I decided to put out a general market version. The story and the art are the same, but the dedication is slightly different. and I had some help with the packaging by Angel Hope Publishing in Drayton, Ontario. In this version, my artist and I would be featured on the back cover, as on any picture book.

I had help promoting it by a journalist, Helen Lammers-Helps who wrote about it in Ontario Farmer and Oxford Review. But also the Tavistock Gazette, our hometown weekly editor who got first chance at spreading the news.

In June, when I received that shipment of books, I thought my heart would burst with happiness. (The first order was emotional.) There also rested some recognition of my father and respect for what he had taught us, and many memories. And a bit more grief too. But it was good grief and honouring.

DSCF1189 (2)

As of this month, three plant nurseries in Waterloo Region have welcomed my promotional efforts of Harry’s Trees in their location and willing to host a book signing there. I’ll be at Sheridan Nursery, Kitchener location, this Saturday, April 28th, from 10:00 am – 4:00 pm. Two more events will follow on Saturday, May 5th and Saturday, May 12th and I hope several more. For spring is a time of growth and renewal.

My book was also a feature of Earth Day events at Sheridan Kitchener this past weekend. My friend Judy read the book as part of those events since I was already committed elsewhere.

So, Dad, if you’re checking on us, know that what you taught us has had great effect and  is going out to many other readers beyond your family. In your humble way, you would not have asked for recognition, but it’s there all the same.

 

 

Jpeg img276

April 25, 2018 at 12:26 am Leave a comment

Moving

DSCF0045

This is no joke. We’re riding on over to the new blog location at this website.

You’ll still be able to look at old posts here, but the new ones will go up at the new site. See you there.

 

Storygal

July 27, 2016 at 11:25 pm 1 comment

Older Posts


Top Canadian Blogs - Top Blogs

Book title

Harry’s Trees

Les arbres de Harry


Literary Remains

Some things are better off read.

P e d r o L

storytelling the world

POETIC BLOOMINGS

POETIC BLOOMINGS, a site established in May 2011 and which reunites Marie Elena Good and Walter J Wojtanik to help nurture and inspire the poetic spirit.

Home on 129 Acres

Creating our forever home in the country

debi riley

The Creative Zone for Making Art

Janice L. Dick

Tansy & Thistle Press: faith, fiction, forum

LEANNE COLE

Art and Practice

SIMPLY LIFE with Kathleen Gibson

Just another WordPress.com weblog

I Like It!

Just another WordPress.com weblog

Whatever He Says

Just another WordPress.com weblog

Baden Storytellers' Guild

Continuing the Tradition of Oral Storytelling

Tenacity

thoughts on faith and fiction

gardenchatter

Garden adventures and advice...

Promises of Home

Stories of British Home Children, written, compiled and edited by Rose McCormick Brandon