It's the last weekend before the official start of spring. Any way you slice it, in whatever part of the country you live—that's cause to celebrate. Even here in Saskatchewan, we're feeling it. After last weekend's storm (when Cranky Old Man Winter gave his all for one last blizzardy blast), I believe the worst is
Oh, the delicious sense that waking early and being the first one up in the morning elicits in me! Today, for the first time since I was sick in January, it happened. It was 5:45 a.m. when I got up this morning——earlier than I have been waking, but not early enough for my liking. It's
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
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,
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
I read a post this morning on Christy Woolum’s blog, Gathering Around the Table, called Ten Things Savimg My Life Right Now, where she shared 10 things helping her through the bleak mid-winter. Her post was in response to Anne Vogel’s post on her blog, Modern Mrs. Darcy, and invitation to others to do make
I'm taking part in a 20 Minute A Day writing challenge with Story Circle Network where we write for fifteen minutes, edit for five, then send what we've written to our accountability group. This morning, I wrote a poem and thought I'd share it with you. January 4, 2022 Low cloud, feather-like flakes falling,
Traditionally, I use the last week of the year to clean up loose ends, tidy up, look back, and plan for a fresh start in the coming year. Years ago, when I was still working and many people were out of the office during this week, a reduction in the number of meetings and a
Good morning. We are still five days away from the official start of winter, but, for all intents and purposes, it has arrived and settled in. As I write this, Gerry is out front with the snowblower for the first time this season and other neighbours are clearing snow from their driveways. The sound of
I hit “publish” on my previous post and stand up. With an empty coffee mug in one hand and a sleepy Yorkie in the other, I turn toward the window. Then my jaw drops. Literally. “Are you kidding?” I mumble to no one. Fat white feather-like snowflakes are falling. The roofs of the houses in
We think about taking the dogs for a walk in the sunshine after lunch but the wind kicks up again. Instead, we leave the pups at home and go for a drive. We stop by the community garden for the first time this year and see nothing reaching through the straw covered area where we