Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men.1


One of the many baby sweaters I have crocheted.

So, you can read a book, knit a sweater, and watch television while cooking a gourmet dinner. You think that is special? I can work on the computer while I burn my dinner! Seriously, though, we human beings are marvelous creatures.2 Multitasking is a word we hear bounced around everywhere today. A few years ago, we would have said, “What in the world is multitasking?” Words and phrases are coined almost every day, it seems. Words that meant one thing yesterday all of a sudden mean something entirely different today. You really do have to be careful how you speak.

Yes, multitasking is a relatively new word, but I am certain there have always people who could


Baby Blanket I Crocheted

do a number of things simultaneously with absolute ease. Most of us are capable of doing at least two things at the same time. We just do them so automatically we don’t realize we are doing more than one task. I used to be able to knit a sweater and read a book at the same time. I haven’t tried that for awhile. In fact, I haven’t knitted a sweater in a few years. I can talk on the phone and play spider solitaire on the computer. What an accomplishment! I can also do crossword puzzles while I watch TV. Not exactly a stellar accomplishment, but I like to keep my mind active. We all think and talk at the same time. If we didn’t, we wouldn’t make much sense.

As I think back on my childhood (a very long time ago), I could probably say that, at times, my father was a multitasker. Every weekend was, to him, a continuous smorgasbord of sports. He would watch a ball game on the TV– baseball or football depending on the season. The sound would be turned down because he didn’t like some particular sportscaster. But the radio would be broadcasting the same game with a different announcer, one acceptable to my dad. Then came advertising time on the TV. A perfect time to tune in to another game to see how those two teams were faring. (Those were the days before remote controls. You actually had to get up from your chair and walk to the TV.) As if this wasn’t enough to keep the brain operating, Dad would also be engrossed in reading the Sporting News! Of course, if Mom or I said something to him, our words couldn’t pierce the bubble in which he was temporarily living. Nothing else, at those times, existed for him but sports.

Then came Saturday night hockey. And somewhere in between was wrestling and boxing. Mom couldn’t stand to watch those hulks tangling with each other and trying to bash each other to pulp, so she would go out to the kitchen. I didn’t much like it either. But then, I didn’t like the baseball, football or hockey any better. In season we also saw (or heard if we chose not to stay in the same room with the TV) basketball and, occasionally, golf. The only thing I enjoyed was the Harlem Globetrotters. They were talented and worth watching. They were good entertainment. Still are, I believe.

On Sunday afternoons, in the good weather, we would go for a ride in the country. This would have been an idyllic experience had it not been for the invention of the car radio. The ball games traveled with us. The only problem was that once we got some distance from home, or passed under the hydro wires, the radio signal would fade in and out. There would be a lot of static. All I could distinguish was a great deal of noisy buzzing. Dad would fiddle with the dial. I would get anxious and hoped he was paying at least as much attention to the driving as he was to the radio. I don’t know how, but he seemed to know exactly what was happening in the game. I would much rather have listened to some good classical music. But my father was addicted to sports. Much better than alcohol though, I must say.

Well, as I said before, there have always been multitaskers around. They just never had a word to describe themselves all those years ago. They simply thought they were normal! Our God has created us with phenomenal abilities. Our brains have such tremendous capacity to acquire, contain and process information that they could only have been designed by a wonderful, loving God. We have been made in the image of God, and He has made His intelligence available to us. What potential there lies in the children of the living God!

I mentioned working on my computer and burning dinner. Yes, I really did that not long ago. Macaroni and cheese sounded like a good choice for dinner that night, so I boiled the water and added the elbow macaroni. Good start. Back to the computer to continue writing.  The window was open. My nose began to pick up a new smell. Someone must be burning something, I thought. I continued to type away. Suddenly, something clicked in my brain! That someone was me and it was my macaroni that was burning! It had boiled dry, but, fortunately, most of it I was able to salvage. It was a little over-cooked, but, so what? Better than a complete loss. So into the casserole dish it went along with part of a can of mushroom soup and the cheese. Lots of grated old cheddar cheese. It was too early to put it in the oven, so back to the computer I went. Later I turned on the oven and put in the casserole. Back to the computer. Fortunately I had the common sense to put a cookie sheet under the dish, because by the time I remembered dinner again, it was just beginning to bubble over onto it. But I didn’t burn it! The next day I found the rest of the soup still in the can and sitting on the kitchen counter.

So much for multitasking. Think I’ll try one thing at a time from now on. Yes, I’ve said that before, too. It never happens. My mind is always running ahead of my body, thinking up what new project I can start while I have still only partly finished the other ten I’ve been working on. It’s like that with my reading habits, too. One day not long ago, I counted at least nine books that I had started and never finished. You’ll be glad to know that I have finished almost all of them now. Of course, I’ve started another eight or nine in their place. You know what they say: you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. I think I may be one of those old dogs. Guess I’ll just go on being me and doing things the way I have always done them.

Multitasking happens. I had better just accept it and go with the flow. Even when the flow gets a little clogged and misdirected. So for those of you who are successful multitaskers, more power to you. I admire you, but I’m not sure if I envy you. My brain can only stand so much confusion. I think I may be getting a little confused now, so I’ll just go and rest my poor brain for a while. Happy multitasking! Or maybe for you it’s uni-tasking. Thank the Lord He also enables us to concentrate on one task at a time. It is so much easier to finish what you start when you have a unified focus. Whichever, God made you the way you are, and He will bless you if you don’t spend all your time trying to be someone else. You be you and I’ll be me and we’ll all be fine, tasking or no tasking!

Thought for the day: Whether or not you are able to do several things at a time is not the issue. The important thing is that you do the tasks the Lord has set for you and finish the work He has called you to do.

Prayer: Lord, help us to focus on what You desire us to do each day. For those who are able to do several things at once, help them to be sure they are all necessary tasks. To be able to do three or four projects at the same time is not necessarily a good thing if some of those things do not need to be done. Help us to organize our time, to use the gifts you have given us, and to grow in the work You have destined for each one of us. May we not waste time with the dispensable to the detriment of the essential tasks You have assigned us. Help us to have discernment, Lord. Show us what You want us to do. Amen.

1 Colossians 3:23

2See Psalm 139:14

Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed another little peek into my younger days.  I hope you will browse around the site and read some of my other posts. I would really appreciate a comment from you, and if you can share this with your friends, that would be great. And if you are not already following me, please consider clicking on the “FOLLOW” button and receive e-mail notifications when I post something new. That way you can keep up to date. God bless. Have a wonderful day.



This is the adult version of a children’s story I wrote several years ago. It is a true story, and I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. I have quite a few photos, but they were taken on my 35mm camera, so are not on the computer to add to this post.


He sends forth springs in the valleys; They flow between the mountains; They give drink to every beast of the field; The wild donkeys quench their thirst.1


A Painting I Did of the “Patchwork Donkey”

What a beautiful, sunshiny day, just perfect for a drive in the country! I had to drive the better part of two hours to visit my elderly mother in Brantford, Ontario. I love to drive, especially when the weather is fine. That day the trees were displaying their fresh spring leaves. The fields were alive with color: emerald green grass, golden dandelions, snow-white daisies with little yellow suns lighting up the center.

After driving for about half an hour, something caught my eye in the field to my right. There, in the center of the field, stood the saddest looking donkey I have ever seen. He did not move, just kept staring straight ahead. There was not another animal in sight. My first thought was, How lonely he must be! There was something very strange about this particular donkey. He was no ordinary donkey. He seemed to be painted with large patches of black, dark brown, tan and creamy white. God had certainly gone wild with His big paint brush to make sure this donkey was different from any other donkey, at least any I have ever seen.

I had the urge to stop the car, climb the fence and give him a great big hug. As I was in my mid-fifties at the time, I knew it was not the best of ideas. I would certainly have created a spectacle of myself. Besides, I would probably have been accused of trespassing. How would I explain myself? “I just wanted to hug that donkey!” Hardly a convincing excuse. They might have even called the ‘men in white coats’ to take me away! Anyway, I was clocking eighty kilometers per hour, so I had no time to give in to the urge. In seconds I left him behind. He was out of my sight, but I could not get him out of my mind. I began to think of him as the spotted donkey. Every time I drove past the area I would watch carefully, hopeful of catching a glimpse of that sad creature.

Slowly the seasons changed. The snow came and created over the farmland a beautiful white blanket that sparkled in the sunlight. Everything looked different. But where was the donkey? I did so want to see him again, but there was no donkey to be seen. Eventually spring came. Maybe I would find him again now that the weather was warmer.

Finally one day I was rewarded in my search. He was easy to spot with his coat so unusual. It was then that I realized my nick-name for him was not quite right. When I think about the word ‘spotted’, what comes to mind are leopards, polka-dots, stains on your clothes from spilling food or drinks on them. So, spotted donkey? It wasn’t a good fit. Then it came to me! He reminded me more than anything of a bed quilt made with patches of different colored fabric. Yes, it was perfect – he was a ‘patchwork’ donkey!

When I first noticed his sad expression, I tried to imagine what might be passing through his mind. That is, assuming donkeys can think! Where is everyone? I’m so lonely! I sure wish someone would come and play with me. I could really use a big hug right now. Everyone else seems to have a friend–why can’t I have one, too? I feel so lost! He was probably feeling very unimportant and useless. After all, what good are donkeys, anyway?

But donkeys really are very special animals. Hundreds of years ago, people of rank rode on donkeys, especially white ones.2 Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey on Palm Sunday.3 Did the patchwork donkey realize how honored some of his ancestors had been?

But now for the good news! The patchwork donkey received a gift. One day I was again driving past that field, and what do you think I saw? That’s right – I saw that patchwork donkey surrounded by other donkeys! Finally he had a friend. He was no longer lonely. But there’s more. One day I stopped at the farm and spoke to the donkey’s owner. He informed me that, yes, the donkey had indeed been lonely. Evidently donkeys need companionship. I guess that makes them something like us humans. The Lord, in His tender compassion, created in us a need to fellowship with others. Donkeys need friends, too. Friendship is a precious part of life, one that nothing else can compare with. Anyway, the patchwork donkey is now a very contented animal. The farmer was gracious enough to allow me to take some pictures. During our conversation he told me that the donkey is now a father! And he is very happy with his new life. So I venture to say he will live happily ever after.

Thought for the day: God has a special friend for each of us. We may just have to wait awhile for Him to reveal who it is to be, but when we meet, we will know they have been sent by our heavenly Father.

Prayer: Father, sometimes we feel very alone and left out of the activity around us. Help us first of all to look to You to be our Friend and Guide. But help us to know also that You have not created us to be islands unto ourselves. There are those You would have us fellowship with. Lead us to them, or show them the way to us. Give us faith to know that we are never alone. You have promised never to leave or forsake us, and You have told us in Your word that we need to fellowship with those of like faith. Therefore we can trust You to provide us with all we need for this walk of faith we have entered into. Fill us with Your joy in believing, Lord. Help us to bring glory to Your name in all we do. Amen.

1 Psalm 104:10,11

2 Judges 5:9,10

3 Matthew 21:1-7

Thank you so much for stopping by to visit. I hope you have enjoyed my story and will browse around and read other posts of interest to you. I hope you will leave a comment to let me know what you think about the story. I want to thank all who are following “For the Joy of Writing”.  If you are not following yet, please click on the “FOLLOW” button at the upper right and leave your e-mail address. You will receive e-mail notifications when I publish a new blog. Have a wonderful day. God bless.


Molly was a cat that belonged to a roommate I had back in 2010. She lived here for a few months until her owner could find another place to live.


© Copyright 2010 by Diane Stephenson

Molly 038


Molly is a friend of mine. Actually, she is my roommate’s friend and came with the package. Molly is very fickle in her attentions and allegiance. More and more she demands my time. I think she has a built-in clock. Every morning at about the same time (too early) she waits for me to get up. Some days I don’t want to get up, but she is determined. She makes this characteristic little noise in her throat to announce her presence.

This morning I am determined she is not going to disturb me. I turn over on my side with my back to her. But that doesn’t discourage her. There she is, hanging over my shoulders, nose almost in my eye, hair tickling my face. Then it comes, with no warning: the sneeze, complete with spray, about an inch from my eye. Thank heaven my eyes are still closed.

The purring, louder and louder, vibrates into my ear. Next she climbs off my shoulder and plunks herself between the pillows beside my head, on top of the box of tissues. I can’t understand how she can fit herself in that small space. Molly is 10 pounds of long-haired tortoiseshell cat, and generally takes up a much larger space. The purring accelerates and Molly begins to knead the pillow.

Molly 021

Pretty Pose on the Back of my Couch

After wiping my eye I turn over on my right side, but she doesn’t go away until she hears her owner, original friend, in the hall. She’s gone. But now I’m awake. I might as well get up. I grab a tissue and now I have fur up my nose. Great!

Oh, oh! She’s back again. Now she wants a proper cuddle, face to face, nose to nose, feet planted firmly on my neck, the sharp tips of her claws gently kneading into my skin. She butts her head against me, indicating that she wants me to pet her head. She loves to have her eyes rubbed. One leg slowly stretches out, the paw rests on my cheek momentarily. It reminds me of a baby when it reaches its hand out to touch your face. Molly’s eyes look so

Molly 049

Lazy Puss on My Bed

affectionately into mine. How can I resist this soft bundle of love?

Suddenly she’s gone again. I’m left alone, still feeling the warmth of her body. Yes, molly is a friend of mine.



Please leave a comment in the box below and let me know how you enjoyed this post. Thank you for taking the time to stop by. And please tell me a story about your favorite pet if you have one. Have a wonderful day.


Clocks 004

Top of a Grandmother Clock made by an elderly man by hand with refurbished hand tools.

I told you in my last post that I had another funny story about Amigo juice. This isn’t as long a story, and maybe not quite as funny, but it is true.

I had ordered four jars of Amigo juice from the company and waited to receive them. It didn’t usually take a long time, but after a month or so of waiting I called to ask about the order. They had no idea what happened to it. So they reshipped.

I sold some of it to regular customers and thought no more about the original order. I imagine I placed more orders. Then one day, about four months after the initial order, the courier came. He brought me the original order.

I checked the journey of this Amigo juice. It left somewhere in the US, possible California (it’s been so long I can’t remember for certain) on its way to London, Ontario, Canada, obviously in an easterly direction. Or maybe not? The box bore the correct address, quite visible and legible.

It’s next stop was somewhere in Australia, obviously not east. At some point it arrived in London, England, still traveling west. And finally, after a long trip around the world, it arrived at my doorstep. I called the company and I think the man was quite amused. He told me to keep it.

Women of Destiny retreat and 2007 picnic 005

I think I felt a little like this child looks. This is a painting I did several years ago for a draw prize at our ladies’ retreat.

So I ended up with eight jars for the price of four. Pretty good deal, I think. It wasn’t long after that the company decided to no longer sell through the network marketing venue and went back to selling in drug stores. So no more Amigo juice for me or my customers. And no more distributorship either. Sigh… It was a really good product and gave me a lot of energy as well as good nutrition.

I always wished I could have accompanied that box around the world. I wonder just how many miles it traveled. Mmm…




Watch for a post about another even more fantastic journey of a parcel from another company.

So much for my Amigo. I hope you enjoyed the story. Please leave a comment and share your thoughts. If you have had a similar experience, please tell me about it in the comment box below. Have a wonderful day. God bless.


This is a story I wrote several years ago when I was a distributor selling a product called Amigo Juice. This company no longer exists. I have another funny story about this juice I will write later. This is one of a varied lot of stories and writings which I began to put together in book form as a different sort of devotional. I’m not sure when it will ever be finished, so I thought I would post at least some of the pieces here.


Dog and Dolls 011

A Doll I Made for my Mother’s 90th Birthday–Just for Fun

Also it is not good for a person to be without knowledge, And he who hurries his footsteps errs.11

I’m running out of time! Where has the day gone? I’m due at my writers’ group meeting and it’s a half hour drive there. I still have to take my Amigo juice supplement. How will ever make it on time? I know, I’ll take a little short cut. If I just pour the powder into my mouth and then drink the water it won’t take as long as mixing it in a shaker. Here goes.

What, you might ask, is Amigo juice? Well, Amigo juice is a product formulated, manufactured and distributed by Natural Health Labs of which I am an independent distributor. A combination of goji juice, mangosteen pericarp and açai berry juice, it is a powerful nutritional supplement. Because it comes in powder form, it is much more economical to ship than large bottles of liquid. But if you don’t shake it well with the water, you get to chew on the jelly-like lumps in the juice. It tastes wonderful. But little did I suspect what would happen when I emptied that little scoop of powder into my mouth!

In went the powder, and down went the water. But the wet ‘powder’ wouldn’t budge off the roof of my mouth! I worked my tongue around it. Nothing. It reminded me of rubber cement. It was between my teeth. It was immovable! So much for my short cut!

“I can’t go out like this,” I silently lamented. Finally, I took a teaspoon and tried scraping it off. That was fun. It came off in little bits, and stubbornly stuck in my teeth. Something had to be done. Since I couldn’t think of anything else, I kept scraping with the spoon. I picked at my teeth with a toothpick. Gradually most of it came off. Or so I thought.

I quickly got down to the car and set out for the meeting. I ran my tongue around my mouth. There was still the friendly cement clinging in places. I continued to work at it. I made it to the meeting on time, and my mouth was finally free of Amigo cement. Lesson learned, and no one was the wiser–except me. Until I told our hostess. She had a good laugh.

I promise you, Amigo, my friend,

I will never take you without water again.

Thought for the day: Never do anything without first taking thought as to the consequences.

Prayer: Father, we are so prone to jumping in with both feet without thinking about what we are doing or what will be the outcome. Help us to consider well before we do things. May we remember to consult You when we are about to embark on some new task. And when we do make a blunder, help us to see the laughable side of it and realize we can always seek Your forgiveness and move on from there. You are ever ready to forgive and to show us the right way. And Lord, help us to learn from our mistakes. The real tragedy of going wrong is when we continue to do the same thing over and over without gaining insight into our errors. I commit each of us into Your hands, Father, and ask You to lead us every step of the way. Praise be to Your name. Amen.

11Proverbs 19:2

I hope my little story gave you a laugh and lifted your spirits. Please leave a comment and share your thoughts. Thank you for taking time to check out my post.


Eddie and Mikey 2008 007


This is a story I wrote years ago. It is a true story. It is funny. I hope you enjoy this account of my experience dog-sitting three little scalllywags. I trust it will leave you with a smile.This story won me 1st place in a creative non-fiction contest years ago.







Copyright 2007 by Diane Stephenson

Bedtime, and I can hardly keep my eyes open. I look forward to sinking into the luxurious coziness of the bed for a good night’s peaceful sleep. But wait! Caught up in my book, I have quite forgotten. Tonight I have to share the bed with three Yorkshire terriers–Eddie, Mikey and Molly.

Their ‘parents’ are away (probably sound asleep and having sweet dreams right about now). I am convinced that these dogs consider themselves to be miniature human beings with absolute authority to run my life. God created me, in their minds at least, solely for their comfort and convenience.

Unlike many Yorkies, these three are rather large, and somewhat heavier than most of their breed (check here to see why this is so). The bed is huge in comparison to my own which, by the way, I do not have to share. But don’t suppose that Eddie, Mikey and Molly will claim the three-quarters of the bed that I don’t use. Never! Going to bed becomes a game of chance where the quickest one wins the best spot. But I refuse to be out-maneuvered by three little scallywags.

I dive in, holding the sheets up high to guarantee my share while I wriggle into as comfortable a position as possible in the circumstances. Nimbly–if I can truthfully say that at sixty-something I am nimble–I stretch over to tap the bedside lamp to turn it off, then pull the blankets around me in one swift movement trying desperately to cover myself before the onslaught. If I don’t get it right the first time, I’ll be wrapped like an Egyptian mummy for the rest of the night. Finally, flat on my back, pillows under my knees and covers pulled up under my chin, I spread my arms out in self defense. If I don’t, the dogs will sleep on them. You can imagine what follows if that happens–my arms will go to sleep with the dogs while I lay awake wondering how long it will take to get to sleep. Are You trying to teach me something, Lord?

The dogs take their places as close to my body as possible. Not even room for a piece of tissue paper in between. Eddie is tucked under my left armpit with his head on my shoulder. Mikey curls up with my right arm circled around him as I try to keep him from falling off the edge of the bed. Molly is plastered against my left hip just below Eddie. I’m glad they seem to be comfortable, because I’m sure not. Hopefully I can get a little sleep now they are settled.

Eddie and Mikey 2008 009


Then it starts. First one, then another, then all three decide it’s bath time. Slurp, slurp, slurp! They are in rhythm. Slurp, slurp! With each lick the bed bounces. This ritual is accompanied by the strangest-sounding grunts, groans and grumbles. Perhaps the sound effects will make it a quicker transition into sleep mode–for the dogs and me. “Settle down.” I speak quietly as I try to keep my composure. Lord, give me grace. Slurp, slurp, slurp! “Settle down!” I exclaim with more emphasis. The slurping persists, and my patience threatens to vanish. Eventually they stop, but not because of anything I said. They have simply finished their bath and are now ready to sleep. Thank You, Lord. Now I lay me down to sleep…

Ah! This is more like it. The room is a little chilly, so their warm bodies are welcome even if I have little chance to change position. Silence reigns outside. I love the dark stillness of night in the country. I relax, waiting for sleep to overcome my tired body.

I just begin to doze when Mikey takes a notion to change places. He stomps across my stomach, digging his feet into all the soft spots. “Ouch! That hurts!” Taking no heed at all of the impact he has made on my insides, he walks between Eddie and Molly over to the far side of the bed, jumps to the floor with a loud thump and patters around to the foot of the bed. After leaping onto the bench, he jumps back onto the bed, marches awkwardly across my legs and up my right side only to flop down in the location he abandoned just moments ago. Why? I ask myself while knowing perfectly well I will never know. Mikey is settled once again. Please Lord, I am desperate for sleep.

But sleep is not to be mine tonight. Now Eddie jumps down with an equally loud thud and begins to scratch the carpet with his hind feet. I am determined to ignore him, but he is equally determined not to be ignored. Soon he starts bumping against the gate placed across the doorway to keep the dogs in the bedroom and hopefully out of trouble. I continue to disregard him. Then the snorting starts. I simply can’t ignore him any longer. I have just lost the battle of wills with a rascal of a Yorkie who has outsmarted me once again. Oh, dear, I might as well get up and let him out, even though I am convinced from past experience that he only wants to see what is happening out in the yard.

Mikey joins Eddie on the floor in a barking match. As soon as I begin to move the gate out of the doorway, they squeeze through, falling over each other to get out. They make a dash down the hall, fly over the steps and arrive in the kitchen dancing around as they continue to bark. It sounds like a mad dog fight. How can such small creatures make that much noise? It’s even more astonishing how they can exude so much energy in the middle of the night. I am scarcely functioning mentally, let alone physically. The door is barely open and Eddie squeezes his way out. Mikey is now silent and just stands there staring at me. “Go on out, Mikey.” Still he stares. I shake my head. What am I supposed to do now? He refuses to go out, so I lean on the stove with my eyes half closed and wait for Eddie to explore the yard before he comes back in. In the meantime, Molly has quietly taken possession of my small share of the bed.  Lord, is this what You call a test of faith?

The race is back on up to the bedroom. I trail far behind. I arrive to see all three dogs on top of the covers in the very place where, in a perfect life, I should be sleeping soundly.  It is 2:00 a.m., and the ritual starts over as I attempt to reclaim my part of the bed. I have executed a successful maneuver, and compose myself to wait for sleep to come. A furry head is now tucked neatly into my neck. How can you not love something that wants to be that close to you?


Molly on right, Eddie at front

It’s morning already. I’ve only dozed for a couple of hours. What I wouldn’t give for a few hours of uninterrupted deep sleep. But it’s 8:00 a.m., time for the dogs’ breakfast. I reluctantly crawl out of bed to feed the wee beasties. Did I actually say that I loved these creatures? I never had children to keep me up all night, but now I have dogs, and they are not even mine. Lord, why now? I’m getting too old for this.

Eddie and Mikey tumble over each other again in an attempt to exit the bedroom. The barking is underway. “Come on, Molly.” No response. “Molly, let’s go.” Still nothing. She is the only one who sleeps all night and is still too lazy to get up in the morning. “Molly!” Slowly she gets up, stretches, ambles over to the edge of the and jumps down. By the time I get the back door open, all three dogs are so close to each other they go out in one confused bundle–a very noisy bundle. Molly now, with her high-pitched screeching, accompanies the other two in a trio loud enough to wake the dead. I pity the neighbors.

Food in their dishes, water bowls replenished, it is now time for the battle. Lord, have mercy. Eddie wants not only his own breakfast but Mikey and Molly’s as well. There is growling. There is barking. There is gnashing of teeth. I shout at Eddy, though I don’t know why. It’s useless to interfere–I’m always the loser and take the chance of leaving with battle scars if I insist on playing referee. So I stumble up the stairs, fall back into bed and leave them to fend for themselves. Lord, if this is a test for patience, I think I failed. Are You keeping score?

Alone at last. Comfortable and cozy once again, I’m ready to doze off when I hear it–a quiet whimper at first, then the volume moves up a notch. It gradually builds in pitch until it becomes a shrill scream. I had better come to terms with it now, before it gets completely out of control. It’s Eddie. He hates to be left alone. From past experience, I know he will keep up this pitiful shrieking until I let him in. He won’t let up until I get up–so I give up!

And thus begins another day with three little scallywags named Eddie, Mikey and Molly.

I really hope you enjoyed reading my story. Thank you for stopping by. Please leave a comment before you go. And I would appreciate it if you would share this with your friends as well. God bless and have a wonderful week.


Where is the lion's head?

Sign in the center of the village showing three types of rock and challenging the reader to choose which type the lion’s head is formed from.

Though I did not take as many photos this year, I do still have a few I didn’t fit into my previous post. I would like to share them here.


View of the marina from the beach.

You can see the lighthouse behind the boats. It is no longer used, but makes a good subject for photos.


Garden area between the beach and the marina.

Copy of P1100467

Area beside beach planted in an attempt to keep the geese away.

For a couple of years now they have been planting a grassy area to keep the geese away from the beach. As you can see on the sign, the premise is that foxes or other predators would normally hide in such areas and the geese would know not to get too close. Of course, there are no animals waiting to pounce, but the geese probably don’t know that. I wondered if it would really work, but I must admit that this year I didn’t see nearly as many geese wandering around.


A tiny place called Hope Bay.

There is not much to see at Hope Bay. The beach is tiny–even tinier than Lion’s Head. There is a store there where we bought ice cream and sat on the porch and listened while a couple of country western singers were practicing. So we got a free show. There is a beautiful trailer park by the store, and on another nearby road a gift shop called, of all things, The Frog and Nightgown. The one year I did stop by there, it was closed, open by appointment only. This year I couldn’t remember where it was, so again, we missed it.

Copy of P1100434

Entrance to the trailer park at Hope Bay

This is a lovely entrance to what appears to be a very beautiful trailer park.


Blue sky to match the blue water

Such a beautiful deep blue sky. Just a perfect match for the blue water of Georgian Bay.


Another beautiful entrance, this time to the Lionheart B&B

A lovely scene to greet guests. There is a matching garden on the other side of the driveway. The Lionheart was built in 2011, so is still quite new. It was a lovely place to stay.


A family of ducks and a seagull sunning themselves

It was fun watching the mama duck with her babies following her. It is a little difficult to see them in this photo. We watched the babies swimming with mom as you can see in the final photo in my previous post.


One of my last glimpses of the shore of Isthmus Bay

It’s almost time to say “goodbye” to my favorite place. You can see even in this shot just how clear the water is. The bottom is visible even from this distance. The gulls have gathered here to sun themselves. One lone gull is bobbing up and down in the water. I’m hoping it will be possible to return next year, but we don’t know what a year will bring. I can plan, but also be prepared for the possibility that it won’t be a possibility.

I hope you have enjoyed this extra “tour” of my favorite place to visit. Please leave a comment before you leave. And if you are not already following me, Please click the “Follow” button to receive e-mail notifications of my new posts. Thank you for stopping by. And please tell your friends about this blog. God bless.


Lion's Head Ontario

The Village of Lion’s Head

This is one of my all-time favorite places to visit. My grandfather built a cottage near the end of the road on Whippoorwill Bay in 1944. I believe my first visit ever would have been in 1945, the year I was born. Until I was thirteen, my parents and I spent a couple of weeks every summer at that cottage. I loved the area then as I love it now.

I have never been to the Caribbean, but I have been told that the water

Whippoorwill Bay

View from Isthmus Bay Road

there is just like the water surrounding Lion’s Head. It is so clear you can see to the bottom. The color changes from beautiful turquoise to deep blue as you look across the water. The photo at the side is about a mile before the cottage.

I didn’t get down to the cottage this year. It is no longer in the family, but I do like to walk down there when I can. This year it just wasn’t possible.

The Lionheart

Our home away from home.

We arrived on Monday August 6 around 3:00 p.m. We were too early to get into our room, so we spent some time at the annual art show. Usually held in the high school, this year it was in the community center as the school is being renovated. That meant there was not enough room for the beautiful quilts they usually show along with the art. Above is the entrance to the Lionheart B&B where we stayed for five nights. I mentioned about the water being like that in the Caribbean. Well, our room was aptly named the West Indies room. It was a beautiful room, quite spacious and beautifully decorated. Behind the room was a common area with a fridge, microwave, dishes, etc. This was where we picked up our breakfast to eat either in the dining room or the breakfast nook off of that room.

Entrance to our room at the Lionheart B&B.

The West Indies room where we stayed.


Peace and quiet

The patio outside our room was a great place to relax and enjoy the peace and quiet around us. The weather was great and we spent a lot of time outdoors.



The B&B was just a couple of blocks from the beach, so we often walked down and sat to enjoy the scenery. We did get in the water on Friday, our last full day. The water is very cold there, but once you get in, it is very refreshing. I cannot swim, but love to get into the water. I managed not to get a sunburn this year.

Most of the shoreline in this area consists of nothing but rocks, but there is a little sand beach in the village. As a child, at the cottage, we used to put on sneakers to help us navigate on the mossy rocks without damaging our toes.

Small sand beach in between the rocky shoreline

We did go in to the village sometimes to get in the water, but most of the time it was in front of the cottage. We were about 3 miles from the village, so it was easier to just stay put.

The five days flew by, and I would have liked to stay longer, but that wasn’t possible this time.

Beautiful blue water and sky.


This photo was taken from a relative’s front deck. Last year we stayed in a different B&B not far from here. What a gorgeous view to be right outside your door. The only problem is that it is a little treacherous getting down to the water. It’s definitely not for older people like me. But I can still enjoy the scenery. And I love the birch trees in that area.



In the photo below, if you look closely, to the left of center, you can see the large rocks on the shore where I love to sit to watch and listen to the water.

My favorite spot from a distance.

There are caves somewhere up there as well, but I have never seen them.

This year I was not able to walk any of the Bruce Trail. But we did do a lot while we were there.

Normally Lion’s Head has a population around 500, but it swells into a few thousand in the summer months. It is a busy little place, but still not crowded. On Friday evenings there is live music at the harbor. On Friday and Saturday evenings there is star gazing where there are telescopes set up to view specific planets or the moon and the public can do this free of charge. We didn’t do it this year as we had quite a long day and had to get ready to leave on Saturday morning.

Ducks on the water

Our last morning

Above is the last photo I took before we left. We had watched this little duck family over the few days we were there, and it was so cute to see them together once again before heading home.