It’s spring here on Vancouver Island with crocus, daffodils, primulas, hellebores and other colourful flowers in bloom. Winter was a challenge as we had more snow than usual (and we’re not prepared for that out here) and Sarah and I learned in December that the house in which we’d rented the upper level  for seventeen years was being sold.

Packing is tiresome on its own and to that, I decided to go through everything, letting go of books, many journals, notes, and other papers filling files. There are still photo albums to pare down which I’ve inherited from my great aunt, aunt and uncle, and father.  I’m now at the stage of putting things away in a beautiful home, also a rental and all to ourselves, about fifteen minutes south of Nanaimo. [The photo shows the end of the house where Sarah has her studio and she and our younger cat, Izzy, can go out on the deck.]

Sarah and I are very grateful to have found such an amazing place. We thought we had to seriously “downsize” and this place is bigger. We’re appreciating the quiet of being out in the country and the space around us. We’re on five acres along with the owners’ house and we’re feeling expansive in various ways. We’re also feeling the challenges of an adjustment and look forward to the days when our surroundings feel comfortable and familiar. It’s getting like that more and more every day. (We’ve been here two weeks now.)

As I unpacked the linen closet items, I came across a quilt my grandmother made with other quilters in the 1950s. They sat around a quilting frame, sharing stories as they pieced and stitched.

The quilts became stories too as fabric, ribbon, and other fragments turned into works of art and of practicality. The pieces creating the pattern of hearts in my grandmother’s quilt are from her cotton housedresses, already faded. The backing is made of bleached flour sacks. I have always loved quilts and this particular one is full of the memories of my early life with my grandparents in Eganville, in the Ottawa Valley, Ontario. I expect I used it on my bed when I was a kid and here we are sixty-five or so years later.

The women quilters were “piecing” which is similar to what we do when we write, stitching scenes from memory that may become part of a larger work. I think it is a good metaphor for the next six-week Writing Life circle which will begin on Wednesday, March 23. We’ll gather in person at my home in Nanaimo as if around the quilting frame, in a circle to write and share with the theme of “Piecing Our Stories From Life.” You’ll find further info here.

Writing was the healing place where I could collect the bits and pieces, where I could put them together again. It was the sanctuary, the safe place.

from Remembered Rapture: The Writer at Work by bell hooks (1952 – 2021)

As several of us have discovered, we can connect to one another by sharing our stories by email. For those of you not able to attend a Nanaimo writing circle, I’m offering a circle “from away” via email called “Our Stories and How They Connect Us.” It begins Thursday, March 24.

For some, it’s actually more comfortable to express themselves through the written word only. You may have discovered that through writing letters to someone and finding out more about yourself and your pen pal as you do so. Several women were part of the circle “from away” in the past and I hope we can rekindle those connections. You’ll find more information here.

On occasion, I’ll offer individual writing circles via Zoom. Back in the spring of 2020, I didn’t think offering women’s writing circles via Zoom would work or offer the same depth of writing and sharing experience. As it turns out, Zoom has been a very helpful partner in offering circles so that we can stay connected by following the same guidelines we follow in the in-person circles.

I wish you a Happy Spring, clearing away what no longer serves you which may include, as the days go by, an easing of restrictions imposed during the pandemic. Think of the babies and toddlers who won’t have seen many faces and will now be able to see us un-masked. So many stories to share of our experiences of the last two years, the hardships, disappointments and the many gifts.