Monday, December 22, 2014

Christmas Tree

Christmas trees are magic.

There is comfort in the glow of the light,  and wonder held in its branches.

I love our tree. Years ago I decided on a white, glass and metallic theme and haven't looked back.  Before kids, I was known to decorate and redecorate the tree twice, and once THREE times.  I don't think I've ever told anyone else that but for my husband.  I was that set on perfection.

Now I am just happy to get it up in a timely manner, and you know what?  It doesn't look that much different or any less perfect that the years I redecorated it multiple times.

I hope my kids get from our tree what I do.  Hope and light, mystery and magic.

Sunday, December 21, 2014

Our Mystery

Saturday morning, Clare woke up saying "owl, owl, owl".  She was pointing at the window in our room and over the edge of the bed.  She seemed surprised to find there was no owl in the room and was clearly trying to tell me that there was *something* going on in that room.  We lay in bed for a little while, and she kept on with "owl" and pointing.  To the ceiling, to the window, and continually to the floor beside the bed.
This morning, upon waking, Henry and I found a feather in our living room.  It's a few inches long and is not from one of our down comforters or jackets, Nor is it a craft feather.  It definitely came in from outside.
I'm not sure exactly what is going on, but as Henry said, "we"ll have to keep our eyes open!"

Saturday, December 20, 2014

Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time, if I wanted to see a fantastic sunrise, I needed to plan. To get up early and go somewhere outside of my house. Once upon a time I lived in a subdivision. Up until we moved to Maple Lake, I had lived in subdivisions all my life. I didn't realize how much it was changing the way I thought and acted until I moved here.  

Now I can wake up, look outside and see something wonderful. Something that inspires and sustains me.  

A few weeks ago, my Grandad was visiting and told me that I'd changed since we moved. I know I have. I feel like moving here has helped me move backwards in time- back to a time of more hopefulness and inspiration, childlike wonder and a feeling that anything is possible. 

All thanks to a sunrise.  

Friday, December 19, 2014

Moving Through Time

It's 5:50 a.m. and I am awake, drinking coffee in my kitchen.  The ice is so loud this morning that I can hear it inside.  It's -14C.  The ice becomes louder as the temperature drops. 

The Christmas tree glows behind me and the coffee maker continues on it's annoying tick, tick, tiiiick that I only seem to hear when no one else is up.  Time is ticking, too.  It's now 5:53 and I wait.  This morning I am waiting for the phone to ring - hoping that I will be called to teach.  Supply teacher worries.

I haven't written in six months.  It's not because I haven't had anything to say, and it's not because I have been too busy.  I don't know.  My attention is divided, I suppose.  Time slips away and while I am constantly filled with words, I often struggle to let them out. 

This morning I was moved to pick up a pencil and put it to paper, which is the way I used to start all of my writing.  A simple pencil and paper.  And with that, Clare is stirring and my time here is done.  5:57 a.m.