Adventure With An Apple Pancake

 By Maryanna Gabriel 

I was craving an apple pancake for some reason, so I made a nice fluffy one. Sitting with my morning coffee and the latest edition of Geist Magazine, I flipped through the pages. My eyes nearly fell out of my head.

My byline. Moi. Published! It was a review of a book I had submitted awhile ago, written by a former class mate. The editor hadn't told me. 

Carumba! Always a thrill. Not sure I tasted the rest of my breakfast. Smiled all day. Really must do this more often. 

Love Coming Home

 By Maryanna Gabriel 


Such encounters I find exhausting and may explain why I live so quietly. Being close to nature, especially trees and water is extremely important. Given everything, I made friends with solitude long ago. The pleasure of it, the freedome of it, are a deep well. Especially for nurturing creativity. 

Living in a smaller place, trips to the city are inevitable and I find I procrastinate for as long as possible. It is a thrill to partake of the pleasures offered, the cafes, the restaurants, the shopping, but it is quickly draining and I cannot wait to get home. Upon return, my heart is filled with gladness, and usually it takes a day or two to recover before my energy level fully returns.

I don't know why. It is just the way of it. 

X Rated

 By Maryanna Gabriel 


Maybe because of all the fence shenanigans, I found myself in the city on an x-ray table. The technician asked for my name. Three times. After the third time I said helpfully,"Like the angel." He looked at me strangely. "What is that?"

 I lightened the odd response by making a joke. "What... are you working for the other side?"

He ignored this and repeated the question. My first thought was that he was pulling my leg. Then I realized by his expression this wasn't so - not a glint of humour twinkled. I knew he had to be intelligent to be doing his job so that was not the problem. Somewhat flabbergasted I remained silent. Again, he asked. 

"A being with wings," I said finally. Well that did it. He looked at me as though I had just said something extremely peculiar. Incomprehenisible. As though he and I were a culture, a continent, a world apart. Inwardly, I groaned as the writing I am working on came to mind. So many would have no comprehension.

The rest of the examination was conducted in silence. Thank goodness. 

Fence Off

 By Maryanna Gabriel 

I am not going to lie. My garden is a wonder. Allow me to clarify. This claim is not of my doing for I assure you, I could not have achieved such mastery on my own. A master gardener designed it. Now I've become it's proud caretaker. I pant around the shrubberies feeling the weight responsiblity of looking after it - always somewhat behind. 

Being a private sort of person, I've been busy. A neighbour recently positioned all his windows to partake of the view. That is to say of me and my property. So I lost my privacy. After madly cogitating on the matter, I have manifested a solution. A fence. A nice one.

I built it.  Me. Myself. Moi. So my privacy is now restored. Home space is sacred ground. 

Places

 by Maryanna Gabriel 

There are places I remember

All my life though some have changed 

- Lennon-McCartney

I don't know about you, but I often return to where I was. That is to say, places where I've lived, pacing outside like a hungry ghost remembering.  Maybe because I put so much love into them, it takes a long time to sort out bonding. My childhood home is one example. 

"Places with their moments...
I loved them all."

Once I heard that when people repeatedly tell their story, often to do with trauma, it is because they need to release the energy, and with each telling they are able to process and let go a little more. Well, it's the same for me when it comes to places. Slowly, slowly, I let go.

Then the molecules of memory are able to reassemble in a focused fashion as I adjust. Where I live now has become a collection point. It so reminds me of my childhood home. I feel gathered together here.