lost and found

I can't believe it! I finally found those %*&^ pink headphones. Over the last year and a half I've spent days looking. I tore apart the house several times in my mad quest. Where could the darn things have gone? I had no idea and eventually gave up looking.

Today I decided to play a bit of Christmas music from my phone. I dug out the speakers and opened the tin they are stored in... and there... in all their pink glory sat the ever searched for headphones. I will admit to shouting a few expletives, partially in joy, but also with some level of frustration. So much time wasted...

After settling into a grand old funk the last few days I knew I had to do more than what I had been doing, but what? Well, Christmas is coming, and with that our annual New Years Eve supper. I had to get the house looking a bit festive so I dug out a few bins of decorations to strew around the house while Carm carried the Christmas tree triumpantly to it's annual resting spot. With a flourish I removed the sheet that protected it through the ages. All decorated, it was an instant mood enhancer. Especially when I plugged in the lights, and the bright twinkle shone through the gloom.

Cue the Christmas music (at least until Carm gets home from his errands). A glass of eggnog would be perfect about now.

And there it is: my favorite song already playing. Davie Bowie and Bing Crosby singing 'Little Drummer Boy' and 'Peace on Earth' in an emotional medley. And over too soon.

A strange knocking sound echoed in the house. What the heck? A walk around, listening to the basement, the garage, the front door, didn't reveal anything. It was only when I noticed the woodpecker on the tree outside the greatroom that I clued in. Yup - a medium sized woodpecker was knocking on the evestroph downspout.  The house always seems to be under assault from one bird or another. In the spring the cardinal likes to fling himself against our bedroom window... at the crack of dawn :-(

Some pleasures: finding my headphones; twinkling lights on the Christmas tree; a walk around the field in this grey day - gosh where is the sun? puttering around putting out a few decorations, just enough to be festive, but not so many that it will take me ages to take them all down; duck plop soup for lunch, with a warm biscuit with butter and jam; setting the table for company tonight; a flash of blue in the spruce tree.

"A pessimist sees only the dark side of the clouds, and mopes; a philosopher sees both sides, and shrugs; an optimist doesn't see the clouds at all — he's walking on them."
~Leonard Louis Levinson

snow is staying

It is another dismal day... day after day the clouds have socked us in, draining all energy and will to do anything. Yesterday and the day before we had snow. It's TOO EARLY for winter!!!

I haven't been out of the house (well, I've been outside, but not in the car), since Sunday when I went into town to visit my Dad and Graham. I've been lazy and somewhat discombobulated and am having trouble on focusing on any task for longer than a few minutes.

The spare bedroom looks like a bomb has gone off. I had the big suitcase that stored some of our cruise clothes on the floor, the medium suitcase that had some of my overflow opened on the bed. Piles of clothes that I've gathered in the meantime on the desk. Yes, chaos. So yesterday I cleared out the big suitcase - we aren't bringing it - and put the two medium suitcases out so I could sort out some of the clothes. Carm's are neatly put away, at least until packing day when we'll make sure he has enough of this and that.

My clothes though... even more strewn around the room. I'm slowly trying on outfits to make sure everything fits and looks okay. That's the fun part, but I don't want to bore Carm so only tried on a few things before giving up and closing the door on the mess.

It's my second day in a row of my emergency meds... gotta remember to write down my pleasures.

Okay... lets wrack my brain to see what I can come up with...

It is not a pleasure that Kabira has been waking up in the middle of the night crying and having to go outside. Once back in she cries for ages. Is there something wrong with her? The snow is not a pleasure. The grey sky is not a pleasure. Needing to have all my sleeveless dresses tailored so they don't gape is not a pleasure.

This isn't going well. Must try harder.

Grace's chatter is a pleasure. Her little squeeks and peeps always brighten my day. The yoga pants that I got are a pleasure - they fit well and don't make me feel all stodgy. The down vest that cuddles me in my misery is a pleasure, as is the down blanket that I drape over myself when I'm cold. Spike running in the snow with his ears flying back always makes me smile.

I guess that will do. I'll try to change my focus for the rest of the day.

"But there must be some pleasure in condemning everything--in perceiving faults where others think they see beauties.'
'You mean there is pleasure in having no pleasure.” 
~Voltaire, Candide

seasons in the sun or at least an hour or two

I'm writing this curled up in the sunspot on the sofa. Kabira is luxurating on the futon and Spike just left his sunspot as I think he was getting too hot. I can't seem to tear myself away from what has been a rare event over the last month. I feel the heat from the sun warming my spirit in a way that only it can do. Why am I so dependant on these rays?

The windows that scoop in the sunshine are perhaps what I love most about our house. The 'great room' has a 24' wall facing south and almost every inch of that is window.

Ahhhh... the pleasures

Last night we had Trudie and Leo over for a supper of Asian pork (what I was making yesterday in the instant pot). We see them often and yet the conversation never stops its flow. What do we talk about? Travel, the garden, the difference between gel nails and shellac polish (seriously), and so much more. Sometimes the conversation gets spirited but it is always fun.

It is officially winter now... my giant down-filled coat has risen from its summer shelter, out of the basement and outside. I trotted down the laneway this morning to open the gate for Carm, emersed in the black coat that engulfed me in comforting warmth; except my nose. My breath was visible in the cold (-11C) air.

"Every moment has its pleasures and its hope.” 
~Jane Austen