February 4, 2011: The universe speaks to me constantly.

If I don’t pay attention, or listen well enough, it tends to shout. Deafeningly. Just lke I felt my Mom (pictured at left in 2009), sometimes did when I was a kid.

Still, I often don’t hear. Just like I didn't as a chlld.

I took a walk in the park at the edge of a Canadian city just before Christmas.

In the middle of the suburban wilderness, I came across a lone deciduous tree, a stone's throw away from a nearby thicket.

Someone (Santa's elves perhaps?), had decorated it with Yuletide exuberance and a motley collection of bits and bobs.

Susan notes: See the end for attribution.

For the longest time, it seemed to me that my life was just about to start. My real life; the one in which I would be happy.

But there was always seemed to be some obstacle along the way, an ordeal to get through, work to be finished, time to be given, bills to be paid.