It’s cold, but not bone-chilling cold (-16C / 3F). It’s not windy, and that makes all the difference. It’s sunny and gorgeous, so Gerry and I grab our grown up cameras and hop in the car to see what we can see. Prairie roads don’t disappoint. The Wakamow valley doesn’t either. Truth be told, even
I’ve struggled to keep track of what day it was this week because of the New Year’s Day holiday which fell on Sunday but that was observed by many businesses on Monday. I can’t explain why, since it didn’t impact anything I did, but it seems any excuse to confuse my days, does. Maybe it
On another gorgeous sunny Saskatchewan afternoon, I drive out to Caronport to pick up Makiya for some grandma/granddaughter time in Moose Jaw. My emotional tank is topped up during the drive there thanks to the beauty of the prairie. I think about pulling over to capture a photo but decide against it. The image accompanying
In the morning, I go to the library while Gerry stays home and spreads out photography papers on the dining table as a precursor to organizing them in binders he picked up the day prior. I spend time orienting myself in the library, looking for spaces I might return to write one day and locating
Living in Moose Jaw makes me happy and I feel at peace here. My heart is broken and I’m grieving the loss of my boy, Murphy. These first days of 2023 are paradoxical. I’m reminded of what Frederich Buechner wrote about the paradox of this life in Wishful Thinking. “The grace of God means something
It’s December 31st at 8 pm as I write this. Gerry is in the living room with Maya watching a hockey game. I’m propped up in bed tapping out these words on my iPad and missing having my little buddy beside me. It’s been a quiet day. We went to the storage locker and, with
January 7, 2020 - December 29, 2022 My sweet boy, Murphy, died peacefully in his sleep last night. He was a tiny dog with special needs—fragile in many ways and mighty in others. No one could have predicted how long Murphy would live. However long, it would have not been enough. He was well loved
In recent years, I’ve gotten in the habit of leaving the non-traditional trees up until the end of January—or even later—appreciating the ambiance and extra light during the dark weeks. This year, I decide to put them away and get to a semblance of Moose Jaw normal as we continue to adjust after the move.
It’s Boxing Day, one of my favourite days of the year. With no commitments and no meals to prepare, thanks to an abundance of leftovers, the day is one of rest involving a good book (I’m currently reading Mad Honey by Jodi Picoult and Jennifer Finney Boylan), a jigsaw puzzle, and snacks. Simply perfect. Yesterday,
After an appointment downtown, Gerry and I head to Superstore to pick up some last minute Christmas things. Ordinarily,mi wouldn’t go to the grocery store on the Friday before Christmas (because crowds), but this is no ordinary year as we continue settling into our new home. As we’re driving into the parking lot, we spot
I’m in a liminal space right now, as we settle into our new home in Moose Jaw in the season of Advent. There’s a strange sense of moving forward while still waiting that leaves me feeling discombobulated. It’s the Christmas season, yet with the transition we’ve experienced and are still sorting through—it doesn’t really seem