#28, #29, #30

Toys are everywhere,
Gift bags on ev'ry surface,
Christmas is over.

Cleanup is a bitch,
So am I, I have to guess,
Put your shit away!

The tree is still up,
Until New Year's day it stays,
Then all of it goes.

#25, #26, #27

Cold, sunny winter,
Snow piled high on boulevard,
Plows not by, can't walk.

Not finished shopping,
List written out in pocket,
When will I get done?

Kids done, hubby done,
Folks, cousins, aunts and uncles,
Claus needs to help more.

#24

Water baby bum,

Wet curls warm my heart and soul,

Loves to lick the tub.

#23

Duran Duran rock,
So tired and my throat hurts,
Worth every cent.

In our infinite wisdom, Richard & I decided to park the car at the Pickering GO and ride the train...saving money, gas and environment. We got there in plenty of time and found our seats (needed tissue for the nosebleeds). We got some not-as-expensive-as-I-expected ACC food and headed back for the show.
The openers, Your Vegas, put on a fantastic show, warming up the crowd for half-an-hour or so. The seats slowly filled and we watched from above as the roadies rolled out the red carpet on the stage for the Red Carpet Massacre of the tour's title.

The lights went out and for the next two hours we were on our feet, dancing, clapping, singing along to some new great tunes and the fantastic classics of DURAN DURAN.

Maybe Haiku Mama is no longer the most appropriate title for this blog. Although, I do love the brevity of the haiku, as well as the thought involved. It requires a certain amount of forethought and therefore one cannot be found to blurt out any old thing.
At the same time, I like the purging quality of just typing out thoughts and senetences as they occur...a more freeform writing that appeals to my spontaneous side.
That said, I will try, more than anything, to post more frequently. I have more free time (as well as a functioning digital camera), and as such more time to put my thoughts and ideas out there.
So, tonight Richard & I are off to see Duran Duran! I can hardly believe that after this many years (I will not say how many), I am actually going to see them live! And, who'd have thought that John Taylor would still be the cutest in the band!?!

#21, #22

Babe's first santa p'rade,
Mama too nauseous to go,
Missed him licking the snow flakes.

Next day, Santa at party,
Chose Leafs mini stick from pile,
Cried when cheese ran out.

Out of sequence rant...

So, I'm sitting at my desk and wondering why I can't find the inspiration necessary to write any meaningful stories. In the last three years, my life has changed so dramatically that one would think that there'd be inspiration lying somewhere. Moving from an apartment to a rented house to our own home, getting married, settling into a neighbourhood that is near and dear to both our hearts, our children going to our alma maters (both elementary and secondary), enduring a body-wrenching pregnancy and c-setion and now going back to work in my former high school....that's a lot to digest. So, maybe it's not that I lack inspiration, but that my life is filled with too much stimulus, too much contentment, too much fulfillment, that I have no aching need to write.

But, should there not still be a spark of fiction flickering in my brain somewhere? A tiny glimmer of a tale...but wait! Is there something there? Ahhh, I think, yes, I think there is something there. Maybe I've got something that would grow into something resembling a story. Is there hope? Possibly...

#20

I'm now back to work,
Babe enjoys daycare, loves it,
Maybe not so bad.