An unexpected surprise…

Back in November of 2015, I spent the better part of a weekend believing I was pregnant. It was an exceptionally refreshing experience, one that I’ve not had for a number of years now.

It was a fantastic weekend to begin with. Halloween was celebrated in conjunction with seasonally low temperatures AND daylight savings time. That, my friends, is every parent’s dream! We also enjoyed dinners with family, played board games, built LEGO, watched a movie, walked our pup at an off-leash park for the very first time (hilarious!), and played many rowdy games of soccer in our back yard.

On Saturday, I checked my app when it occurred to me that I was late, and realized that my cycle had endured for 36 days. I was convinced that my cycle had not EVER exceeded 35 days, though my husband seemed to recall a 38 day cycle. I am willing to admit that he was likely correct, what with his brain being the vault that it is, but at the time I was keen to forget.

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Families are like quilts.

My son laughs easily and often.

There are times when he becomes so lost in his joy, he intuitively rubs his hands together as though he is stoking a fire… burning and blazing for even more joy.

I have seen others do this: his father, grandfather and great-grandfather. Cut from the same mold, they are. It is the most remarkable thing…

To be stitched so intimately together by something as simple as a gesture.

The world is good. I find proof of this in such things.

Six months and counting… An update of sorts.

We’ve been in our new home for nearly six months. We took possession on St. Patrick’s day, which in these parts, also happens to mark the Spring Equalday, a time of rebirth and celebration. There was much significance in this for me.

In April, we went on vacation with my brother, his wife and his youngest son. Disney World! Universal Studios! We had an amazing time forging memories that I will treasure always.

In May, we brought home a puppy, a Bernedoodle, and we named him after Captain America’s best friend, Bucky. Which later became Bucky Sneakers. Or, Bucky Boo. Or, Bucks. Or, Buck-man. Whichever seems most appropriate really.

I love our Bucky! He is my constant companion and I cannot fully explain how grateful I am to have that. He is my giant, furry baby. I am shameless in my devotion to him. He is not just a dog.

He’s my very best pal. Here’s why:

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Art Walk 2013

I recently spent some time with my brother-in-law, fine art photographer and print maker, Reathel Geary, perusing a variety of art galleries in Calgary’s core. Such a treat, this is… especially for me. I have been enamoured with art for a very long time; literature, music, photography, paint on canvas, whatever really. I’m not picky. Most of the time I’m not even sure what I’m looking at! All the same, I love how a particular piece of art makes me feel, that something tangible inspires an emotional experience…one with enough weight to make a lasting impression. Read more