Practice Makes Permanent

“This is a lot of stuff to remember, Grandma!”

Seven-year-old Sloane and I are making a Zentangle. She’d tried to copy my work on her own with no success, so I’m teaching her step by step.

“That’s why we keep practicing.”

Sloane’s Zentangle

“Practice makes permanent!”

“Do you mean perfect?”

“No permanent. That’s what my teacher says.”

“Good one! I might have to use it.”

You can use it too!


We’ve had an interesting week of considering how habits play out in our lives, as witnessed by these titles:

When Rivers Change,
Never too old…,
Predictions nixed
Ways of Doing

I Write Her
A Shared Space
Eugi’s Causerie
Stuff and what if…

Please also visit the original post to read some of the comments.

Thanks all! See you tomorrow for a new challenge!

It’s All Perspective, Really

The year my father turned 75, I decided to gift him with a letter of gratitude. We’d had a difficult go, and while I sometimes hated him, I always loved him, and I wasn’t sure I’d expressed the latter enough.

I acknowledged his personal struggles, and apologized for any heartache I’d caused him, choosing to recognize that the struggles we survive are just polish on the people we become.

He cried, said that he had a hard time seeing that perspective, but appreciated my words.

It’s true though. As much as I can sit and ponder ‘what ifs’, who I am today is a product of personal life experience. I have been prodded, stretched, tested and baked, and now that I am finally coming to a place of peace with all that, the possibility of shining is open.

Better now than ever.


Thanks for all who participated this week. Our focus was polish. No fancy wrap-up as I’m currently packing up and the task is daunting.

Abandoned Amenities
one letter UP
Stuff and what if…
Willow Poetry
Sweet Aroma

See you tomorrow for a new challenge.

V.J.’s Weekly Challenge #35: Balance

I don’t think I’ve possessed good physical balance since that time I went down in tennis and cracked my kneecap, despite physiotherapy’s best efforts. Now that chronic illness has been added to the mix, I’ve learned to live without that certainty. I’m wobbly; what can I say?

Balance in other areas of my life, however; continues to be a work in progress. I have an inkling I’m not alone in this. This week, I am challenging us to think about how balance plays a role in our lives: Are you a master, whose life flows in perfect balance (if so, do share), or are you a student of life, like me, constantly being tested?

Maybe balance has a particular meaning for you; or maybe you’d best explain in photographs or art. My inspiration for this theme came from watching these beautiful but awkward birds balancing on one leg, like yoga gurus.

To participate, just create a post on the topic and link back (or drop a link in the comments.) Tag it VJWC if you remember, and enjoy the creative efforts of our community.

Look forward to responses.

V.J.’s Weekly Challenge #28: Recipe

This time of the year, I find myself perusing recipes – looking for the perfect gluten-free dessert, or a new appetizer to take to a potluck, or maybe an easy way to use up leftovers.  

I am also concocting a recipe for the perfect get together – imagining the ingredients and timing for holiday celebrations.  

Whether celebrating the holidays or not, this week I challenge you to think about ingredients and directions to create your own recipe.

Just knowing you don’t have the answers is a recipe for humility, openness, acceptance, forgiveness, and an eagerness to learn – and those are all good things.

Dick Van Dyke

Look forward to reading your creations!

To Participate:

  1. Create a post on the topic.  
  2. Tag VJWC
  3. Create a pingback or leave a link in the comments.
  4. Read and comment on all posts.

Home: A Wrap

We arrived Wednesday, our vehicle stuffed full, including a blow-up mattress for me, who would be camping out the remainder of the week.  Ric would travel back and forth, staying at the RV, and I would manage deliveries, and oversee the laying of new floors.

I set up in the living room (bedroom carpets were to be torn out) – a single bed, a sleeping bag, my computer and a flashlight.

“It doubles as a weapon,” Ric reassured me with a smile on his face.

Finding the bathroom the first night felt like going on safari, the space being so much larger than our current home.  I shut the doors to extraneous rooms, so as not to feel overwhelmed. Then there was the silence.  It is quiet here, beyond words.

“We’re an eight to six community,” a passing neighbour told me.  “Nothing happens before or afterwards.”

As promised, deliveries started – we’ve bought everything new as we’re starting over – and I turned my focus to what goes where, and what else do we need.  It’s a bit like being a newlywed, I thought, building our first nest.  So exciting.

Friday, the flooring team arrived bright and early, and later on our new appliances.  By mid-afternoon, I was exhausted, and lay down in the midst of it and napped.  At six, as the last of the workers left, I collapsed in a chair and considered the tracks of dust and dirt.

Ric went for groceries without me and then headed back.  In the morning, he would pick up a moving van and gather the boys to move the rest of the stuff.

At 4:00 a.m., having slept for five hours, I was wide awake.  I put on the kettle and found the broom and mop.  Silly, I suppose, but it was weighing on me.  The first deliveries came at 8:30 – all needing to be assembled.

Friends arrived, like angels descending, and immediately set to work.  By the time Ric and the boys arrived, we had a bed together, a dining room table, and a chair to sit in.  (I use the royal ‘we’ here – not much effort was exerted on my part.)

Soon the house was filled with more boxes and bodies, and the bustle of activity.  By five, I whisked them away,  muscles refusing to hold me upright any longer.  One last ring of the front bell was a neighbour delivering fresh cherry tomatoes from his garden.

Ric and I sat at our dining room table, eating take out and fresh lettuce with tomatoes, bursting with gratitude for those who took the time to help us, and the contentment of knowing we’re home.


This week’s challenge focused on the concept of home.  Olga at Stuff and What If talks about home being a place within, first missing, and then evolving to a place of contentment.   Proscenium, caught in a deluge of constant rain, describes home as a place to get comfy, and “enjoy guilty free living” when the storms come.  Sgeoil’s description of home involves roots, people, and connections, and reminds us that it isn’t always just one setting.

I loved the posts this week, and am extremely grateful for all the comments and encouragement during the transition.  This online community is a home unto itself.

Be well all, and see you tomorrow for a new challenge,