Musing

today’s Musing written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park

9C/48F (high 22C), bright sunshine, mountain breeze fills nostrils, we walked slower so Gusta could re-sniff every inch of the ridge path to know who’d been there this week while I took time to ‘admire’ what I breeze by daily without much thought – those grotesque excesses of stucco, rooves, windows and softwood lumber - ‘big ridge houses’ - devoid of brilliant design, well intentioned buyers stepping up a notch - they are at the edge, pushed the limits of what is allowed, somehow seeing something worthy that Gusta and I miss

I caught up with Carla yesterday . .she is so excited about her upcoming South American adventure . . I am a little jealous . .

as a child I played with pots and pans - things found in kitchen cupboards; few excited me as much as the colander – ours stood in its own stand and came with a wooden tool reminiscent of a gardener’s dipple, its purpose to push heated mush through the holes, to let excess drain out

most mornings as I go out, a theme or focus in my mind; elements of yesterday’s chat with my dad or my daughter, a catch up with an old friend, a meeting with a new client, of deadlines met . . others over-holding, repairing a burnt bridge, or blowing up another – of exchanges with someone strange, estranged or just a stranger

we are all colanders into which each day’s stuff is poured; mix of good news, sad news, old news and atrocities - around the world or in our own backyard, of goodness snuffed out, of time taking its toll, of new adventures beginning, of seasoning autumn brings

in some cases it is just inattention to good design (like those houses), at the other end of the spectrum it is the sadness of a grandmother fading from life or a young person beaten near death for no apparent reason; for each of our troubles and foibles there is some cause, or at least a sequential path of events that lead to it – some lead to dead ends, an endpoint – others to a new beginning, a new start, a new approach

a day of laughter punctuates sad stories; I think daily newspapers could improve by putting comics on page 1, perhaps hiding headline atrocities among classified advertising for used cars, diaper services and apartments for rent – we would then look at them from time to time but we would otherwise start our days with a chuckle rather than a sad refrain

like that colander; my events du jour and of those I touch – everything goes into the hopper, is mashed around, tossed and shaken until something drains out the bottom, while a little of this and that leaks out the sides too; each day’s stuff seems important – in the moment - but in fullness of time, most will fade, not forgettable or forgotten, but faded

colander squeezings are often messy, life flavoured and well seasoned

Mark Kolke
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