Dear Diary – I just read that 1/4 of all toy sales are adults buying toys for themselves. Based on the adults I know, I honestly thought that number would be higher.
I’ve put a lot of thought into it and I just don’t think being an adult is gonna work for me.Unknown
Dear Diary – Look! Quick! The sun is shi- Never mind!
Dear Diary – I forgot how therapeutic hand embroidery can be. It also keeps me from snacking in the evenings.
My mother and I lost a lot of weight the winter before my brother’s wedding because we were working on quilt pieces and if we snacked, we’d have to clean up before we continued, and we were too
lazy busy to make that long walk to the sink to wash our hands.
When it came time to quilt it at my Grandmother’s house, however, she insisted on tea and cake when we finished our session for the day.
Five ladies worked on this quilt: Nana J, Nana R, Auntie M, Mom and me. And I gotta say, by the time the wedding rolled around, all of us…and the quilt…looked great!
You’ll have to take my word for it. I couldn’t find the photo! 😦
Dear Diary – Political correctness takes another shocking descent into ridiculous chaos.
How can primary coloured candies with limited physical features and varied shapes and sizes, be “polarizing”? If anything, don’t these iconic candies embrace the human race in an inclusive manner? Honestly, in the venture to be inclusive of all people regardless of race, gender, etc. we have become more intolerant.
If we spent less time bashing, ghosting, shaming, whining, and being offended (very vocally I might add) of stupid things of little importance, and instead focused our attention on instances of genuine injustice and intolerance, we might actually make the world a better place. Like the one we’re all talking about. Like the one we want for our kids and the generations to follow our short time on earth. Perhaps if we loved more and belittled less, we would start heading in the right direction!
Dear Diary – I found a sweet way to clean out a kitchen drawer…I baked and decorated cupcakes.
Dear Diary – This weekend we’re lined up for a family photo shoot. The last time we had professional family photos taken, Sears was still open AND Youngest Son was 2. He’s 17 now. He still hates having his photo taken but he’s going to suck it up for his Mama. This photo shoot is part of my Christmas present and I’m very excited.
My only regret is that I have no idea (or time, money or closet-space) to coordinate “outfits” for us that would rival all the other lovely families who posted family pics this Christmas on Facebook. I’m talking the perfectly coiffed, barn-don’t-need-painting, white toothed families, from head to toe “instagram-worthy”-type of families frolicking on a woodsy path. Complete with the family pet!
My family looks more like this:
Endearing for a home photo but not the high caliber of photo for which I’m
Especially when I can’t wear my sexy boots. Or any boots!
On Sunday afternoon, Hubby and I drove over the park where we’re supposed to meet our photographer, just to get the lay of the land. The smooth path we were promised was thick and chunky with frozen footprints in what used to be mud. Everywhere else pretty much was mud. The trees were bare; there was no snow in sight. Or birds. Or squirrels. Or any sign of life. There was also no sun or clouds, or rather I should say there was one giant gray cloud which covered the entire province. Which made for a remarkable lackluster backdrop for our family photos.
We’ve been told it will snow this week…a lot, promising a dreamy backdrop of white to go with our forlorn landscape. But then they also predicted a nasty spot of freezing rain last week which cancelled school buses. We got rain, without the freezing. So I don’t entirely trust the forecast.
I know I’d be better off worrying less about the final product and just enjoy the experience. It costs enough. And in the end, while the photographer hasn’t got a lot to work with, it’s her reputation on the line. I doubt my family will show up on her website (everyone wants to see the darling tiny people anyway). But they will get hung in my living room and I will love them. Because they are of my family and I know their beauty is more than just skin deep.
Dear Diary – Well, this time they were right! It did snow…profusely, sideways, and for hours. It was a great day to hibernate in my sewing room and dream of summer. Until school was out and I knew Youngest Son was trudging home in it. He made it home okay; his navy hood no longer navy, but white. And he had news. His English exam, scheduled for the following day, has been postponed due to “inclement weather”.
I guess this means we can both sleep in!
If people were meant to pop out of bed, we’d all sleep in toasters.Garfield
Dear Diary – As I settled to sleep last night I realized that 33 years ago, my Mom and I pulled an all-nighter as we awaited the imminent arrival of Eldest Son. So while I did sleep in this morning, I also crept down the stairs at 5 a.m. to get my cell phone and I called him at 6:55 a.m. to wish him a Happy Birthday! He was already in the truck yard waiting for his partner.
I could write pages and pages about my surprise baby and all the wonderful surprises he brought to my life. I could also write about the wonderful ways God walked with us, often in ways unseen until we looked back. He has been one of the greatest joys of my life and I can’t wait to journey together and cheer from the sidelines for the next thirty-some years!
I love you forever. I like you for always. As long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be!
Happy Birthday !
The love flows from generation to generation. . . what a blessing!
I showed the Garfield quote to my husband, the sleepyhead in our family: If people were meant to pop out of bed, we’d all sleep in toasters.” What a hoot!
Happy weekend, Jenn and fam! 😀