WW tingle

{WW} tingle

Wintry Bliss

Crunchy snow, boots and jackets

Snow-pants, toque and gloves and scarf

Trails with little childish footprints

Snow pile, ice trails, smells of fire

Cocoa steaming, tingling noses

Steamy breath and echoes clear

Happy voices, children’s laughter

Snowboards, saucers, sleds and gear

Slippery slopes, bright-eyed faces

Tumbling past the trees and banks

Best of years and best of seasons

Grateful prayers, thoughts of thanks

WW change

I don't usually write New Year's Resolutions or even pick a word for the year. I guess my life just happens. But I do so love the new year and the possibilities it brings. I love turning the calendar to a new page, sharpening a brand new pencil to a pointy tip, and starting anew with an untouched planner book.

I love to think about the year gone past and dream about the things I want to accomplish and finish in the coming year. I'm always full of grand ideas in the beginning of January and my book is full of lists. That doesn’t mean that all things come to fruition but I like to focus on what has.

Also, going ‘home’ for Christmas brings out my analytical side and I go back to the place that birthed me, the place I became who I am, with fond memories. So much has changed, but so much has not. I’ve gone full circle (maybe a few times) with accepting the changes, seeing the good here, seeing the good there, and just simply adjusting.

Really, my life is so much the same as always. I look out my window and watch the lazy snowflakes fluttering down. I sit by my cozy fireplace and watch the flames dancing while I drink my coffee. I have ten pairs of jeans drying on the upstairs railing and the heaters cranked out full blast to recompense for the -32C wind-chill. I have bread rising on the warm stovetop and toys littering the floor and clean laundry that needs folding.

Of course, some things are different as the new year starts. Colby is taller, has a lower voice and longer jeans. Zach is still a little boy in some ways but he’s going to be bigger than Colby, broader, maybe. And his mind goes a mile a minute, devouring whole series of books in one gulp, playing and collecting every imaginable game and he has enough tenacity to build a full sized skating rink of his own accord. And probably the biggest change is in Wyatt who is almost four instead of almost three.  I think you can start to tell how hard his father has worked on his choleric nature. He’s a man’s man. He’s three going on seventeen and knows a whole lot more than anyone in our household. Sometimes we sigh and sometimes we laugh and most of the time we try to focus on the future and where we’re heading with them all.

More changes in our life include Pat’s folks returning from their one-year stint in Windowrock, Pat selling the welding shop in Delisle with plans to build again here on our farm, and Trevor & Robins move to Ontario. These are all rather significant changes in our lives.

So today I sit, thankfully, prayerfully, with laughter welling and tears brimming, remembering and looking forward, accepting and holding tightly to the beautiful season of change I’m in.

Happy New Year!!

Hey! The best to you, my silent, quiet, screen friends! It's been a while.

So, what do we talk about first? Writing? I don't know where I want to go with this writing/blogging thing. Sometimes I think I'm ready to be done. It was fun to try for a while. I'll probably always blab, using the written word. But do I want to here? I love connecting with people... but I've spoken too freely, had stuff passed around the conference, deleted a bunch of readers, disconnected and lived my own life. And more.

So ya.

We had a wonderful Christmas. The best yet. We haven't gone home for the last two years so it was extra special to sit in the huge Crooked Creek church on Christmas day and listen to the beautiful youth Christmas program. I sat between Aunty Judy and Pam and had to ask who most of them were! Yes, I've lived in Swanson longer than I've lived anywhere else in my life. But Crooked Creek birthed me. Crooked Creek is my home. My stomping grounds. My people.

This year we had a grade party. Matt & Kendra didn't come and Allison & Justin couldn't make it. But it was absolutely delightful and healing and lovely and FUN to be together. I told mom that I didn't know when I had last been so Extremely loud. (And I wasn't the only one!) There is nothing like old friends to understand and validate you. There is no one else who you can immediately update on your family status. There is no one who so completely understands your past, your hurts, your accomplishments and grey hair. There is no one you can be as relaxed with as your old friend whose three-year-old teaches your three-year-old to climb the bookshelf and sit on the top.  And there's nothing in this world like fancy chai in fancy cups and lounging in a sewing room.

I didn't write a Christmas letter. I didn't do cards. I didn't even get past the pepper-nuts and party mixes for goodies. But this December was awesome. This last year has been up-building, healing. Like, after Trevor's moved away I've just decompressed and the air keeps whooshing out in big, belching plumes, like an air balloon settling on the earth after a long hard ride.

There is so much to learn in life, so many things to face, so much to let go of. And somewhere, through it all we find ourselves. I've tried so hard to be a 'Swanson' girl and I feel right at home here and love it here. But. I'm a Northern girl at heart and always will be. My roots are deep. And it's a good thing. It's strengthening.

So, with all the deep analyzing done (for now) I'll bid you good night.