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Writer's pictureHilda Van Netten

Endless Running Out of Time

It's over. One week is both a long time and a short time. We had time to do most of the things on the girls' lists.


As we were each doing our own thing this morning, Endless Running Out of Time by The Secret Sisters was keeping us company.


Count the days away

So few of them remain

Watch the moments fade

The light before the rain



Journey Through the Arts summer camp more than exceeded the girls' expectations. Yesterday, the crowd of 75 friends and family laughed at all the right places when watching their self-written plays. I think they will be remembering this week for years to come. Many of the kids found gifts they never knew they had. We do not take lightly that we are fortunate to have this camp in our little town.


From the hands upon the numbers

To the edges of my mind

There's a grieving ache for what's at stake

In the endless running out of time



Each of the artists was acknowledged for their contribution to the week. They could choose a colourful eraser to bring home as a memory


Bring me consolation

Where past and present meet

Stories from my childhood

Lay them at my feet



This morning we were all acutely aware that it was our last day together. Flower-loving Nora and her secateurs (she was proud to be trusted with one) walked through the gardens, clipping whatever flowers she wanted for our breakfast table bouquet. Bouquet arranged, and table set, we were ready for waffles!


Leave the pain of losing

For in all of it I find

Nothing quite so bitter or so sweet

As the endless running out of time



Isn't it wonderful when we are given just what we need, exactly when we need it? Marshall, the best kind of cat, just happened to wander over as we were getting ready to eat. The week started with Marshall and it ended with Marshall. I don't think the girls were happy about that at all. 🥴


Who am I to live and die

To dream, to breath, to burn

That I exist it is a gift

I never could have earned



I mentioned that we were all doing our own thing this morning. As I gathered their personal belongings, Frances worked on mastering a basic Rubik's Cube. I think she's going to be a Math Girl, just like her dad was a Math Boy. She sees math both logically and visually.


Who she is is starting to show.


Until the ties are broken

This purpose will be mine

To hold you close and try to slow

The endless running out of time




On Nora's list was more time with the doll house.


Who am I to live and die

To dream, to breathe, to burn

That I exist it is a gift

I never could have earned




Flowers that had been carefully clipped two days ago and pressed in a book, then dried in the microwave because time was marching on, were admired and sorted. This girl has a love of nature, except for anything that moves, and a love of beauty.


One day I'll meet my memories

In a moment so divine

Perfect love and ceasing of

The endless running out of time



My heart is full.


Time for a rest.



Perfect love and ceasing of

The endless running out of time

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