It snows again. The white is startling and pretty. It’s not as lovely as it was a couple of months ago because we’re kind of sick of it by now, but it makes for a good day to hunker down. I’m grateful for the opportunity. Gerry has a man cold, so he’s been hunkering for
I meet a young man who mentions he took vacation last month. “Where did you go?” It’s a natural question. ”I visited my family in the Kootenays for a week and spent another week at home.” He mentions how rested he felt when he returned to work. Like he had really been on vacation. I think about
We arrive home in the wee hours, exhausted. In whichever time zone I consider the hour it’s far, far too late for this old body to still be upright. Technically, it’s the day after we began our journey home. We stumble around suitcases and fall exhausted into bed. Unpacking will come tomorrow—or later today, depending
Today is one of my favourite days of the year: Boxing Day. Even when we lived in the US where it isn’t observed, I took the day off work and spent a quiet day at home. Boxing Day is an exhalation. The pressure to manifest something festive is released. We can stay in our pajamas all
The sun shone a few days ago. It was noteworthy because it’s been gray so we packed up our cameras, grabbed some coffee, and went for a drive. It was glorious. We talked, looked, and didn’t click the shutters on our cameras once. No matter. The sunlight did what it does so well. It revived
In the middle of the week in the middle of the afternoon I curl up under a blanket, turn on the TV, and watch a Hallmark movie. Once I longed to have time and opportunity to do such a thing. Then, when my time was my own, I made myself too busy to consider it.
We put up our three non-traditional trees. I spend the dark afternoon in the soft glow of one of them, listening to the King’s College Choir and working through edits on my manuscript. It’s time well spent. Today, more of the same—minus the manuscript. The house is winter-cozy even if it doesn’t yet feel or look