Posts filed under ‘photography’

Changeable Weather

It’s that time of year when the weather is a little fickle, when it’s not completely spring and winter still wants to hang in. We woke Sunday morning to a thick coat of snow on picnic table and lawn, and the car covered with a coating of white.

When we thought we might be done with winter, snow and snow shovel, it made another appearance to keep us guessing. It did look pretty and it was very cold. And very much a surprise.

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However, we are in April now and there were flower stems shooting through the ground and buds on trees before this snowfall, so surely we’ll feel the warmth coming again soon.

 

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shoots poking through the ground for lilacs and other early spring flowers only last week

In a few days, perhaps, we’ll smell spring in the air. We’ve seen the robins and know they’re back. I’m ready for spring. Maybe you are too.

 

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April 1, 2019 at 12:36 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

Poetry from a childhood place

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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

 

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

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

Winter in our part of the world

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a tree silhouette in the snow

 

In southwestern Ontario we’ve had snow and cold, then mildness and rain. After that it turned cold again and all that rain that melted the snow froze on sidewalks and driveways as well as the road, so that everywhere we went there was ice to contend with. There still is ice.

We have winter tires on our mid-sized car so it handles the roads pretty well as long as we go slow. In the extreme cold a week ago, though, our car refused to start. I turned the key and it went “rrr” and refused to turn over. It did the same thing for my husband.

My husband said it was likely a dead battery and that it needed to be replaced. Handy husband had an extra battery in the workshop that he used to try to get the car started while I called the local shop to ask if we could get an appointment.

The car started with a bit of a boost and we let the car warm up to increase the charge enough to get to the shop. Thus that afternoon we did not get to where we had planned to go, but we did get a brand new battery in the car and now it starts again like a charm.

 

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winter gardens

 

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snow on the planter

 

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my shadow in the snow

 

 

All photos on this blog are © of C. R. Wilker, unless otherwise noted. Please ask permission if you wish to use a photo.

February 9, 2019 at 12:02 am 2 comments

Where Lost Things Go

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This morning I posted at The Word Guild blog as I usually do once a month. I took my two oldest granddaughters to the movies during the Christmas vacation, an event we all enjoyed.

Where Lost Things Go

During the recent holidays I took my nine- and seven-year-old granddaughters to see Mary Poppins Returns. In anticipation, them with popcorn in hand, one asked why we were there so early, the other answering her question, to be prepared.

“At some movies, there’s a line-up of people,” I said.

Indeed the popcorn was disappearing into their mouths as we waited to get into the theatre. We talked about other movies going on there and about waiting until the staff was done getting the space ready. (How much popcorn lay on the floor?) It seemed like we were the only ones at that door, a bit surprising after all the previews for this movie.

The clean-up was done; we could go in. We’d talked about where we’d sit — not too close to the screen or at the back. Now it was time for them to choose the row. One wanted the aisle seat and so we found our place. Here we sat in a quiet and empty theatre, me and my granddaughters. They wondered if others were coming. I said I was sure more would come and speculated that the theatre might not be full (which turned out to be true). Most of their popcorn and drink was gone by that time. The girls had counted rows and seats across the middle. I didn’t expect them to sit still just yet or to be perfectly quiet. The popcorn and drinks diminished even more. Would we have to make an exit to the washroom in the middle of the movie? No, it happened before, while previews played and the feature was not yet begun.

The clean-up was done; we could go in. We’d talked about where we’d sit — not too close to the screen or at the back. Now it was time for them to choose the row. One wanted the aisle seat and so we found our place. Here we sat in a quiet and empty theatre, me and my granddaughters. They wondered if others were coming. I said I was sure more would come and speculated that the theatre might not be full (which turned out to be true). Most of their popcorn and drink was gone by that time. The girls had counted rows and seats across the middle. I didn’t expect them to sit still just yet or to be perfectly quiet. The popcorn and drinks diminished even more. Would we have to make an exit to the washroom in the middle of the movie? No, it happened before, while previews played and the feature was not yet begun.

Read more here.

January 12, 2019 at 1:40 pm Leave a comment

The things we do as grandmothers

 

 

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on holiday outings together

 

First I’ll declare outright that I am a grandmother. Have been for awhile and our count is up to five. I don’t have to raise them or pay attention to their financial keep. But I can spend time with them and I enjoy being with them.

We bake cookies together, plant garden in season. We play, read and do puzzles together. Those things I like. And recently we had a cookie decorating session, with plenty of icing and add-on decorations.

 

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Decorating Christmas cookies with all the trimmings

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supervise their play

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Enjoy the out of doors, even the shadows the sun makes in our paths

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join in their make believe

When we dare to sit with our small grandchildren, we learn a little about what they’re thinking. When we engage with their play, they learn too.

We have no guarantee how much time we’ll have to enjoy these young ones and so it’s a good thing to build the relationships at an early stage. It builds trust too.

There’s no doubt that it takes energy to play with them, especially the smallest ones, but the time we spend together and the smiles make it worthwhile.

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Looking after the garden we planted together

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checking on the fairy garden and building the path for fairies

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climbing into his car

I’m grateful that my grandchildren all live in the same city. It takes only minutes to get there. We get together for dinner, for play and special celebrations.

I look forward to spending time with them at Christmas, to see the delight on their faces as they open their gifts from us, for the hugs too. And today we will go to the older grandchildrens’ school for the holiday assembly. We sit back and watch them perform and then see their surprise when they see us on the way out. Blessed beyond measure.

 

 

 

 

All photos on this site, unless otherwise noted © C. Wilker

December 19, 2018 at 3:02 pm Leave a comment

Winter

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Early November in southwestern Ontario, we had a real first snow. It coated trees and covered roofs, nearly buried the gardens and gave drivers a reason to haul out their snow brushes. It was cold too.

 

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like how the snow mounds on the picnic table top and benches, like a marshmallow top

 

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Ceramic birdhouse made by my friend Valda. It may not be the most comfortable place for birds, but it’s a pretty decoration.

 

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Time to put the watering cans away. We had to turn them upside down and drain them first.

 

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snow on the trellises, and fence, a neat pattern

Weather in Canada, at least where we are. It comes and it stays.

Today I’ll share a poem that I wrote years ago, published by Tower Poetry Society.

 

Frozen Beauty

maples wave skeleton arms, patterning a cold blue sky

exposing abandoned nests and fragile papery globes

work of birds and bees

 

silvery icicles and white patches weigh down

evergreen branches, they sag

like an old woman with a heavy load

 

paw prints parallel booted feet

imprinting, crunching the cold white blanket

over frozen soil and city concrete

 

gardens, a silhouette of frozen stalks, dried seedpods

waiting… at rest until spring

like hibernating bears

 

©Carolyn Wilker

 

Published by Tower Poetry Winter Edition 2004-2005 Vol. 53 No. 2

December 12, 2018 at 2:18 pm Leave a comment

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