On pleasant summer things

And a puppy

The first time I played bingo, I was a 23-year old bride on honeymoon in Jamaica. I beat out the other honeymooners on Resort Game Night and won a highly coveted bottle of rum. This was not an all-inclusive hotel. It did include breakfast and supper so we ate breakfast at the last possible moment, and dinner at the first. On Bingo night, we could hardly believe our luck.

I haven’t thought about Bingo over the years, until last week.

On Friday night, I joined a faith and arts discussion group that met at a beach in Ottawa. After a pleasant conversation about what it’s like to create out of abundance or scarcity, out came the craft supplies. Seizing up internally, I wondered if I’d have to find an excuse to leave early. I did not want to draw like a tiny child in front of the other grown-ups.

But, it turns out we were making simple but profound bingo cards to help us create a summer of abundance.

I loved this activity! It was like a list, but much better. I’m excellent at making lists, and often lose them. I’ve already lost my bingo card (I’m not even sure it made it home) but I was smart enough to take a photo. Here it is:

I wanted to share this idea, because it’s so fabulous. Some of the actual artists in our group drew clouds instead of squares, which we admired.

Angela, our conversation leader, invited us to dream a bit and think about intentionally creating our summer out of an expansive, abundant space. What were the possibilities? Most of my squares do contain practical things I wanted to do anyway, but they are things I find satisfying and enriching. (Even cleaning out my basement. I LOVE to clean out my basement).

I did dream up a few new goals like trying a new dish each week and also a new restaurant (which might really be dreaming).

And, writing a poem.

Reading four books will be child’s play. Writing three chapters, on the other hand, is wildly unrealistic, but a girl is allowed to dream.

Why don’t you do this activity with some friends? I think it might be one of the best kinds of Bingo out there (maybe even better than rum bingo when you’re broke and in your twenties).

You might have noticed “Train Guinness daily” on my Abundance Bingo card. Guinness is the little chocolate lab puppy I’ve had in my life for about a month. I already love him, and I think he loves me back, or that’s what all dog people think. I talk sweetly to him and flash him encouraging smiles and scratch behind his ears when they flop on by. He really is a charmer. There have been a few 2, 3, and 5:00am moments of concern. But we are sleeping much better now.

If you’re a dog person, you get it.

Our golden doodle Dewey, who died in late 2022, was never properly mourned because of all that life served up next, but he would have understood and forgiven us, because he was all about the group vibe and making sure everyone was okay. He did leave a dog-shaped hole in my life. My kids finally convinced me I was ready. They are willing to help. And this time, I believe them.

And so we all chose Guinness together. Even our eldest son was in town from Newfoundland and able to come with us to meet all the adorable puppies, and among them spot Guinness who seems to have the gentle and playful nature of another great friend. We’re taking good care of him. And he is already taking good care of me, wiggling from top to tail every time he sees me anew, even if I’ve just stepped behind a door for a second or two.

It is very good to be loved by a dog.

Here he is on my bed. I didn’t even pretend to try to not have that happen.

If you remember, we also have a bull mastiff in the house. The two dogs have formed a playful team. Russell displays the forbearance of a weary old aunty. I see him digging deep, and I tell him that. He’s mostly patient and also we think enjoying life with a new vigour. There’s now always someone available to play.

Many evenings, Guinness and I sit on the front step and watch the world go by. I love sitting on a step on a summer’s evening. I hope you might be doing that kind of thing as well?

Ottawa blooms beautifully this time of year. It becomes full and lush. My street is leafy green and just right, and busy with good things. There are always dogs afoot with their people. Little groups of students off for the summer have spirited discussions as they stride down the sidewalk, maybe heading out for a cold beer at the brewery a block or two away, like I did the other night with a friend. We’re trying to become better writers and so we read great sentences out loud to each other from a pile of books on the table between us.

Across the street, a neighbour has patio lights strung up her stairway. The woman on the corner turns the tiniest of city spaces into a gorgeous thick garden. She trims and tends, and I think waves a magic wand over the plants. I’ve written about her before and I probably will again.

One of the books I will read this summer was loaned to me by another neighbour who I wave to from across the street.

And on this very day, my friend Alison and I (The Minister’s Wife, Friendship Chapter), drove over an hour to see an art show featuring two artists (friends of each other) who combined their different kinds of work into one bright and beautiful show of paintings and puppets, embroidered stools with legs painted with leopard spots and cardboard bouquets of flowers scattered about that were almost irresistible.

It was a nice thing to do on a summer day with a good, old friend.

It’s easy to not do those fun, spontaneous things. Good things can take some effort. To not spend the day sowing or spinning, but slowing and savouring, is a decision that might take a plan. A stop at the gas station to fill the car. The right playlist. The right person.

“Just walk in the house and grab some lettuce,” Alison’s husband Kris said to me when I pulled into the driveway. That’s the kind of thing old friends might say to each other on a warm summer day.

Cynthia Gatien was one of the artists in the show, and one of my favourites. I love her bright flowers that look a little bit like the ones improbably growing in bunches on the corner of Arlington and Percy. I appreciate her quirky animals. A while ago — before Guinness tumbled into our lives — I asked her to do a painting for me featuring the dogs I have loved.

You’ll see there is just enough room for one more to join us at the table, in that prime corner office spot. I’m glad he’s here.

And I hope that if you make your own Abundance Bingo card, that you’ll tell me.

This painting hangs in a little room stuffed with books and a soft green velvet coach covered in dog slobber. When it rains, the ceiling leaks. I should fix that I guess.