Sunday morning I could smell the scent of church perfume Nan must have just left Pop is cooking me eggs and mmm…eggs like no others special for me he loved it taking his time, trying not to break the yolk my thing, his thing, our thing then I appeared through the kitchen archway straight to the table and that inside chair my spot til university pop’s service was top-notch always repeating no more then you turn the tiny knob on the black and white tiny old TV cracks of static at first our favorite show flickers and plays on it must be ten o’clock now because the sun is stretching through the window reaching the rocking chair where pop is sitting in listen here’s to adventure here’s to romance here’s the Cisco kid not a word is spoken souls in harmony time in quantity a moment in quality memories of black and white bring me the most colour
Welcome back, join me and my continuing conversation about my thoughts, feelings, and emotions to the world around me.
In this episode, I’m on my first feel-good Spring walk smiling like something’s a “mist.” Like today’s beautiful damp grey foggy day as Mother Nature starts to clean up after winter. I can relate to days like this, have a listen as I will tell you how. And, as always, I throw in a poem for good measure.
Welcome back, join me and my continuing conversation about my thoughts, feelings, and emotions to the world around me.
In this episode, I’m on a walk and tear-jerking with a few of my memories. I’m also caught in a vibe I just had to share because it makes me feel good to be alive and great to have lived so much already. And, as always, I throw in a poem for good measure.
those days we spent in the dory barely a word was shared aloud our language was unique to only us on the nicest of days that were just for you and me no sun, grey skies, grey ocean…with a hug of a fog
you had no idea but I loved watching you in awe… of my captain my grandfather, only different when I did, I felt safe and sound adventurous…like your first mate catching our bounty of fish for dear Theresa’s table
Welcome back, join me and my continuing conversation about my thoughts, feelings, and emotions to the world around me.
In this episode, I take advantage of having a yarn with my podcast audience. Catch up and chat about how awesome we all are. Life is tough, so it’s nice to talk about the struggle. And, as always, I throw in a quote and a poem for good measure.
I only have a portion of your whole life. But because I gorged, it is enough to sustain me for the remainder of my own. Your stories like ripened fruit that were picked just for me. In the garden, we grew together. They remain sweet to this very day. You taught me there’s no spoil in a deep-rooted yarn. A good yield will last forever when you remember where they’re planted. – Ash
That one over there. It brings me back to see my Pop. We beachcomb for hours and he teaches me how to tie knots. I watch him gut fish and blow snot from his nose in the cold months. I hear him saw wood for the stove that my nan helps me pick up, and stack high against the fence. I watch him as he goes crazy when wrestling comes on. I love every minute of every match.
Every picture tells a story or is a key to one. – Ash
Whenever I see a pile of wood by the side of the road or in someone’s front yard, it instantly takes me back to when I was kid. I believe I was around ten years old. Back that humbling day when I tried to prove to my Uncles that I was just as big and tough as they were. A coming of age moment of my life with a Shade of Ash humour that I will never forget. A bunch of wood grouped together sets the scene and some of you already know this, but I grew up with my grandparents, so my Uncles are like my brothers. There’s five of them. I made six, and the youngest in that dynamic and because of that, I was considered “Mommy’s Boy”. *I called my grandmother, Mom, by the way.
OK, Cue the wavey time-travel lines, fade to the 80’s.
Firewood was a primary source of heat for us growing up, so from time to time, that meant the whole family would have to pitch in and help bring freshly cut wood from my grandfather’s boat up to the front yard to be packed and stacked. Every now and again, my grandfather accompanied by two or three of the Uncles would travel by boat to some remote area to cut down the wood. Then, once they had a load, they would return home where the wood still had to be sawed up and stored away. None of that process involved me though. I got off the hook for stuff like that. Hey! It’s not me, my grandmother just wouldn’t have it back then. She’d look at my Uncles, each of them, and tell them to go on outside and not bother me. “Leave Ashley alone, he’s alright, go on, your fathers waiting.” She’d say. This rotted my uncles of course. Now, they wouldn’t say much in retort and just went on to work. Though like prisoners knowing all the blind spots of a prison yard, they too knew when to get in a few licks and wrestling moves behind my grandparents backs to make sure I knew what’s up. Until that one day, where I had enough of it.
Earth To Ash 