Well, I did it. I put up our two non-traditional trees, one in the living room and the other in the snug (aka den). Later, when the day gets dark too early, the glow of the white LED lights will warm the rooms. Cue the hygge. It'll look something like this (I captured this image
Faith is not science. Faith transcends logic as love transcends calculations. Faith is not statistics but a relationship with God that over time makes one wise, not certain. Scot McKnight Lord, keep me from the propensity to want to be right and certain and puffed up with knowledge. Meet me in the mystery. Teach me
It's November. I can hardly believe it. Weeks fly by and yet, in another sense, they drag. This morning I took a look back in the archives of this blog (you can click the links to read the posts) to see what other Novembers were like, and I found a common theme. One year ago
It's almost 2pm as I write this and it's dark. Next week at this time it will be darker because this weekend we turn our clocks back an hour. I wish we'd stop trying to mess with time but, for now at least, we persist. The end of Daylight Saving Time starts our descent into
I finally tended to the carrots we harvested from our backyard garden many weeks ago. They've been resting on the back deck waiting for me to get a burst of energy and turn my attention to them. This morning I brought them in, washed, and chopped some for soup and others for munching, and the
It's one of our favourite things: an afternoon drive in the country, me with coffee in hand and the littlest Yorkie asleep in my arms, and Gerry at the wheel. We haven't done it for ages. We missed the spectacular colours of fall, and it's mostly stick season now, but there's beauty out there in
Laurinda and Makiya have run out to the store. Gerry is downstairs—booking hikes or playing solitaire on his computer, I'd wager. Maya and Murphy are munching on their supper—a delectable mixture of Royal Canin Yorkshire Terrier kibble with a touch of Royal Canin loaf and gravy mixed in for flavour. This, mostly for Maya's sake.
It's the kind of day that was the norm at this time of year when we lived in the Pacific Northwest, but that we rarely experience here in arid Kamloops. The sky is gray, clouds are low, and raindrops dance in puddles on the sidewalk. The rain washes away memories of the endless smoky skies,
I'm having a quiet, albeit busy, Monday morning. With Makiya at school, Laurinda and work, and Gerry out hiking, it's just me, Maya, Murphy (who, incidentally, joined our family one year ago today), and a pretty kitty named Chica who is still adjusting to being a Kamloopsian. Earlier, the dogs and the cat declared a
We spend a beautiful afternoon together at the Adams River salmon run. Every school kid in Kamloops visits the salmon run and learns about the incredible life cycle of salmon. The first time I took Laurinda, she was ten days old and tucked in a Snugli on my chest. For Makiya, this is something new.
I’m sitting here in the den (or snug, as I’ve taken to calling it) cozy under a Sherpa blanket and sipping a mug of Yerba mate tea. The dogs are curled up next to me—also on Sherpa blankets—and have gone back to sleep. We’re the only ones up. I glance out the top of the window