Hello April!  I have missed you! After one of the coldest and longest (not totally gone yet) winters, I’m so glad you are making your annual appearance.  You may be full of rain, but I welcome you with arms wide open.  I can finally walk on grass.  I have gardening plans for the weekend, yes, gardening!  Even though it’s just getting the grounds clean and ready, it’s a start and I’ll take it!  I have ordered some new flower seeds and bulbs to liven up my yard. Each year I promise myself I’m not going to buy more, but here I am again, waiting for some new plants.  Lettuce, herbs and chard are sprouting on the window sill, other veggies will soon follow.  I can’t wait to put my hands in the dirt!  What a treat!  You know, I’m not such a fancy lady, dirt and manure are just fine 🙂

When this year started I wished for less, not more.  Less stress, less worries, less clutter.  I wanted to get my yoga routine back and even meditate more.  It turns out, that I now work even more hours, so finding the time to reconnect with my inner zen self is harder than expected.  I do need the extra hours ( and money, of course) but between work, kids and all the extra-curricular activities, some days, I get ten minutes in the bathtub without interruption and that’s my me time.  It’s a good me time, but I was craving, and still am, for more.

You’re going to be 11 on St. Patrick’s  Day.  My little  good luck charm as I so often call you. It’s true, since you came into my life, you only brought smiles, light and so much love.  You still hug me as tight.  You still kiss me good morning and goodnight.  You are my serious and responsible one.  You always choose what’s right and fair, you put others before yourself.  You are wise for your age.  But, in all that seriousness, sometimes you allow a little silliness to show.  That’s when the light you carry shines the brightest.  The twinkle in your eye, the goofy smile, it’s all there, and it’s all good.

The joys of winter!  It does sound romantic to people who get snow once a year, they all wait anxiously to go out sledding, and take those perfect big chunks of snowflakes falling photos. In reality, when you do live in some parts of Canada, when comes February, the romance has long gone.  The snow is brown.  Mixed with abrasives and all the dirt from cars.  The ground is still frozen solid this year.  We’ve had a very cold one.  Trouble is you can’t predict winter.  It could be a mild one, and you get to see some grass by March or, you can freeze your butt off until the end of April.

Last week I got hit by sudden anxiety.  I felt like all the memories I had captured over the years would somehow evade me.  I started thinking, what if my hard drives crash?  What if my boys don’t remember all the good time we had?  What ifs started to drive a hole in my mind and I could see myself getting drowned in it (anxiety, I’m well aware by now, is fuelled by my out of control hormones, been trying to regulate those damn glands for years, but it still has hiccups.  But I’m not writing a health blog, so moving on…).  So, I decided to print.  As many images as I could. A batch for every year that’s on my drives or DVDs, in order to create a memory box.  Just like in the past, where albums or boxes would be found in a closet and cherished like an old friend you reconnect with.