It is minus 13 without the wind-chill factored in. My bronchial tubes tell me it is too cold to be doing this: setting off down the winding lane for an evening skate on the river. The frigid air bites nastily at my nose, seeps cold air deep down into my lungs. We trudge through foot-high …
I am steering the van towards after-school destination numero deux in project “My Life as a Chauffer.” A tired Kindergartener rides solo in the backseat, a motley assortment of Foodland bags/backpacks/other odds and ends ride shotgun in the passenger side. And all the while, Veggie Tales blares in the background. One male character says to …
Lights dimmed, a lone candle lit. All is warm and cozy, safe and sound. The Little One and I snuggle under plush covers, heads touching on the pillow. Her fine baby hair spreads fan-like, soft tendrils all around. So light. So easy to be a child. And yet. I just feel heavy beside her. But …
Solitude. Not loneliness of which I speak. Not isolation, nor seclusion. Neither separation, segregation, emptiness. Rather. The peaceful equilibrium without. That quiet moment spent. In prayer. In supplication, meditation, reflection. In contemplative thought. Tranquil moments that restore the soul within. Returning the body to its truest nature, a relaxed state of being. Reinstating the mind …
Little voices, tiny hands. Baby hair still wisps, framing round faces. Wide-eyed. They move, and squirm, roll and tumble. And I try to quiet them, but they are alive with energy. Full of life. We read on the blue rug, I’ll Love You Forever. As I begin to form words on the tongue, I can …
It is a breathtakingly beautiful day outside. I send the Fearless Foursome outside for some fresh air and exercise. What I wish I could write about this experience is this: Everyone played in harmonious co-operation whilst enjoying some excellent winter recreational activity while tromping around in the sparkling snow. What really happened: Everyone proceeded to …
Humble pie always is the hardest to swallow. But before I get to that, let’s start with this. Wednesday’s incident. I was still trying to get over that. Wednesday. Our busiest day of the week, hands down. We have umpteen dozen things to do between dawn and dusk, and that’s just the day job. Then …
I’m doing double-duty tonight. Husband lies feverishly curled up in the fetal position on the couch under that stringy, blue blanket that has seen better days. While the girls and I tiptoe past like fervent mice on a scavenger hunt. Then, on up the stairs to bedtime routines and tuck-ins. I haven’t done the bedtime …
He sits beside me. Calm, quiet-like. In between me and his father. I have just nestled myself into a seat, in a row of black chairs connected by a small hinge along one side. We call them a pew. That’s church speak. They’re really just uncomfortable, black chairs with a slight cushion to ease the …
Sometimes (just a wee tiny bit…), I wish I was her. You know her. That girl. That girl, who seemingly has it all together. Who’s all that and then some. Whom I admire from afar. I’ll admit it. I read her books, her articles, her blogs. I see her out and about, I watch her …
I have been fascinated and greatly inspired by the portraits, pictures and photographs other people have taken and posted on-line over the holidays. A slew of pictures came across my Facebook feed over the past couple of weeks with beautiful pictures of homes and décor, along with gorgeous family pictures and portraits of beautiful children …
I stir the sticky rum sauce for steamed Christmas pudding. One of the last vestiges of the Christmas traditions yet to be savoured, after a generous slice of savoury meat pie with cranberry preserves. It is Boxing Day. And all too soon, it will be over. The food, festivities and family get-togethers. All good things …