Fleur de Aleta

Sometimes the best days aren’t the ones you spend a lot of money on. They’re the ones where you come home with sore cheeks from laughing, wonderful pictures, and pants that may never be dry again.  Saturday was one of those days. Part One: A Walk in the Park Our morning began at Lafreniere Park.  The weather was beautiful. Cool, crisp, and just right for a walk. Gregory wanted to see the ducks, and I was perfectly happy to spend some time outdoors with him. We walked along the paths, stopping to admire the trees, birds, dogs, ducks, and artwork scattered throughout the park. Gregory borrowed my phone to take pictures, and we took our time enjoying the scenery. We weren’t in a hurry. We didn’t have anywhere we needed to be.  And then there was the matter of our height difference. I’m five feet tall. Gregory is approximately five feet six inches, and apparently those six inches have gone straight to his head. I stood on a step to give myself a little height advantage. He wa...

 It Never Was by: Aleta O'Brien Slithering of a snake  The pounce and catch  springs to life  As movement triggers a string But it’s not a cat it’s not the silken strands It’s a connection following a path And letting the path    Trip over itself, Under a bridge and  Through the woods Life is complicated like that It gets jumbled up and knotted Don’t use teeth and claws Yet knots require patience That is not there Sometimes the string…just ends or Loops back to find its way again And sometimes it crosses under What looks like another  What fun!  It rises up high Floating in the sky, what freedom Only it’s not a string and it’s not freedom It’s secured.  Firmly in place and reaches Up to the balloon and forbid it Movement of the natural air sort It controls position; it’s not a connection It never was,  It was a tether and under Its shadow was the silken string. Once the tether is cut, the ballon might Move further away or might drif...

There are few sounds quite as enthusiastic as a teenager being told he’s going to a craft class with his mother. “Mommmmm. I’m tired.” We were already having a busy day. School pickup, visiting my parents, a quick grocery run, and now I was reminding my son that I’d registered us for a witch lantern class at the library. “Mom, it’s going to be in the kiddie section. I’m too old for that.” I explained that the class was for ages twelve and up. “Ohhhhkkaayyyyy.” If enthusiasm were electricity, we could have powered approximately one very small night-light.  Maybe. I told him we’d go take a look. If it was too childish, we could leave.  I wasn’t going to force him to sit through an hour of gluing macaroni to construction paper.  Although, for the record, I’ve seen some impressive macaroni art. Mom Scores One We arrived early.   And guess what? The class was NOT in the children’s section. I resisted the urge to do a victory dance. Because we were early, the library staff...