Last night was my first foray into the complex world of card-making. Because I don’t already have enough to do, I decided to make my own Christmas cards this year.

Actually, it all came about because there are a few of us girls try to get together every once in a while for craft night. Between the four of us, we have cardmaking, scrapbooking, jewellerymaking and woodworking covered, although we don’t always stick to those specific areas when we get together. Mostly, it’s about fellowship and making time in our busy lives for our friends.
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I’m a little vexed this morning.

I just read through a newsletter of an organization I belong to and noticed my name mis-spelled in several places. Coincidentally, that was followed up a few minutes later by an email – one of solicitation no less – that also mis-spelled my name.

Now it’s only an extra letter, and it’s still close. But it’s not me. And I’m normally mostly indifferent to this particular vexation, but today, for some reason it got to me enough that I feel the need to vent.
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I always struggle with November. It is gray, cold and rainy and the days keep getting shorter and shorter.

This week in particular has made me wish Christmas would hurry up and get here – if only for the colour the whirlwind of the season will bring. It’s not that my life isn’t a whirlwind in itself right now, but the drab grayness and the darkness are starting to get to me. more…

We used to have a deal, my husband and I.

He’s a woodworker, which can be somewhat of an expensive hobby. The deal was that he would make whatever project I picked out, as long as it called for him to buy a new power tool. It worked well – hallway mirror, plant stand, storage bench and built-in window seat for me; steadily growing tool inventory for him.

And then he broke the rule – and that was the end of our fabulous arrangement. Here’s what happened.
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I’m pretty sure I’m going to go into withdrawl.

For the last two years, we’ve been fed a steady diet of updates, polls, speeches, accusations and photo ops related to the US presidential race – and now, in a few short hours, it’s all going to be over.

It was a constant I could always count on, likely a daily soap opera with ongoing plot twists, interesting characters, heros and villains, scandal and unexpected developments. Even if there was nothing else going on, I knew I could catch the latest on the American election. Our own short campaign was hardly this captivating and the key characters hardly as interesting. more…

It seems like I spend all year waiting for it – that magical day when there’s an extra hour for me to spend however I please.

It used to be easy. Sleep was always the first choice when it came to deciding what to do the day the clocks fell back for winter. I either didn’t set the alarm at all or took great joy in setting it for an hour later than usual. more…