Archive for November, 2009
sick day
I vaguely remember a time when being sick was actually kind of fun. Being forced to slow down a bit, relax, sleep in, eat comfort food… wait – that sounds really fun. Anyway, being sick with two little kids at home is no fun at all, especially when they’re sick, too. I want a sick day.
counting down
I’m going to go ahead and file this one under “I do it to myself.” See, I got it into my head that we needed an advent calender, mostly because I was always jealous of the kids who got to eat chocolate every morning of December. Then, I figured that I would just make one. Then I had to go and make it all complicated. So, here is my current design, patiently waiting to be realized in my holiday crafting material of choice: felted wool from old sweaters. Each of the 25 thingies (everything other than the tree itself) will be a pocket for some kind of tiny treat. Hmmm… I guess I’ll need to have room for two tiny treats in a year or two. Oh! That reminds me! I also have to make a new stocking for baby, AND a birthday banner in time for her quickly approaching first birthday! Good thing I have a lot of sweaters.
loved, and were loved
While living in the States, I kind of missed the poppies every November. I like the way they stand out in a sometimes dreary month, worn on the lapels of coats freshly dug out of the closet for winter, uniting their wearers in some small way for those two weeks.
shedding light
Uhhhhh… huh. Very weird things are going on with the colour here. And my monitor hates yellow on yellow, apparently, so now my eyes are all wonky.
So, yeah… fall, it is. November and all. Hoob and I came across a scene like this in the park the other day. The barren birches must have just lost their leaves, because the ground they stood on was ablaze, as opposed to brown and crunchy. I was so distracted by the trees that I almost let Hoob go after a duck in the river. I’m very sorry to have disturbed you, duck, but don’t you think the alarm you set off was a bit much? Really? You needed to get your 200 goose friends to tell us off? Next, I suppose, you’ll be calling in the swans.
