Another Monday, another blog post.

It’s Election Day in Canada. πŸ‡¨πŸ‡¦

The only picture I took today was a video of the cows when we helped Dan move them this afternoon.

But WordPress isn’t letting me post videos, so I’ll just post this one from last fall.

I asked my question about grief yesterday because I’ve been thinking so much lately of an acquaintance who lost her husband to Covid. I want to send her a card, but I feel like there are no words to put in it.

I loved your responses. Mostly I heard that words really don’t cut it. It’s the hugs and the quiet listening and the acts of kindness that matter. The things that say, “I see you. Your pain is real. Talk if you need to. Or I’ll just sit here with you.”

Recently we had sweet friends here with their beautiful 4 year old with spina bifida. She will likely never walk. That is a different kind of grief. Imagine the lonely feeling when all around you the kids are running and playing and your own precious child sits in a wheelchair. ❀️

If you have good words about appropriate responses to mentally or physically challenged children/people and their caregivers, I’d love to hear them. There are hundreds of articles on the subject. But hearing from you is my favourite.

I think one of the biggest problems we have is ignoring or skirting around the obvious like we do with death. All people want to be heard, seen, and accepted. Be honest. Be accepting. Put yourself in another’s shoes.

It was a good day of fellowship.

We took a drive up the Alaska highway and the leaves were so pretty.

Tonight I want to paint some cards.

When you went through the deepest grief you ever experienced, what gesture or words meant the most to you?

The vine on our perennial bed’s latticed seat is turning red. Since our autumn leaves are all yellow up here, red is extra special.

And may our deep-seated fears be abolished.

A good Friday

I cleaned the cold room today, where I’d forgotten about last season’s carrots. 😩

Tonight the others were gone, so I did some ball practice with Liesl.

(Lest you think too highly of me, I hadn’t done that for a very long time.)

While outside, we found a few sweet peas. I’d given up on them ever blooming. I brought them in and enjoyed their heady scent while washing dishes.

I soaked a casserole dish and when I came back to finish it, the sky was a riot of colour.

Shadows and corn

I named this photo “Shadows”.

I miss my glads this year. Only a few of them will bloom. I guess it was just too dry.

We had ham and bean soup, garlic toast from the grocery store, and corn on the cob for supper.

How DID we ever manage?

I can choose

In writing I can pick and choose and avoid the real issues at hand by writing about Koda the dog eating nearly a pound of butter off the plate on the counter.

And the kids downing slices of warm zucchini bread after school.

And the way I pray every morning at the mirror that God would thicken my hair.

And my sparkling living room window.

And the blustery, blustery weather.

And that we studied Esther 5 tonight at church and then helped someone pull a dead elk off the road on the way home.

And that I washed the little windows on one of my green doors for the first time in ever so long.

And that my osteospermum (or African daisies) are still blooming.

Avoidance is not usually a good thing. But recounting and being grateful for everyday life is, I hope.

Old pictures and mindless mistakes

It’s rainy this evening and the children had hot chocolate after supper.

Dan must’ve been feeling the cloudiness before supper too. He works so hard. I was going to post a picture of him sleeping, but maybe he wouldn’t like if I did. And maybe he’d never know. But maybe his mom would mention it or something. 🀣 I almost always check with him before posting a picture of him.

But now I don’t know what to post for my picture of the day.

I saved these off of Facebook memories the other day.

They’re all so LITTLE AND CUTE!

Today I:

made chicken cordon bleu casserole for the first time.

ate 120 grams of gummy bears on the way home from work. Terrible. I was trying to stay awake.

helped an elderly man out to his car with thrift store finds.

wore my favourite pajamas for as long as I could.

This didn’t happen today. But last week I opened my chapstick and almost used it when I went to put on deodorant. And then a few days later I did the same thing again, only vice versa. Some days I just know I’m losing it!

Have you done anything mindlessly crazy lately?

I often ask my kids what I should blog about and they rarely give me ideas.

Tonight I asked them and Tori said, “Blog about the three tomatoes on your windowsill.” So I took a picture of them.

Then I said, “Tillie, send me a pretty picture from your phone.” (Natalia takes good pictures.)

So she sent me this one.

I had a good Monday. Now I need to get my lazy bones out the door for a walk. And ugh! My living room window needs to be washed so badly, but I keep thinking I’ll wait till fly season is over. But I don’t think I can bear it any longer.

And now I don’t know how to end this post. Do you have a job that’s hanging over your head?

Sept 12

Be pretty if you can.

Be witty if you must.

Be gracious if it kills you.

~β„°π“π“ˆπ’Ύπ‘’ 𝒹𝑒 π’²π‘œπ“π’»π‘’, 1865-1950~


It was an ordinary Saturday in some ways and not in others.

Today was Victoria’s birthday and Natalia wanted to treat us to coffee at Beans & Barley, the cutest coffee shop in Dawson Creek.

We had a lovely time. My girls are among my most favourite people in the world.

Alex baked a cake for Tori. He’s the sweetest.

These three are practicing music for their cousin’s wedding.