We were halfway through our meal when it happened. An obnoxious older couple sitting between us and the young family began discussing, loudly, how the baby was ruining their meal.
My son is in grade three this year, and we've been given a wonderful gift by his teacher, independent home reading...
I’ve committed to making no new year's resolutions and remain buried in my writing until the winter has passed. I’m trying to be kinder to myself this year, and not set myself up in a negative way with a slew of personal expectations. I’m in stay-home-and-write mode indefinitely. At least until the world starts to thaw a little.
Christmas is going to be at my house this year and although I’m almost thirty years old, it’s the first time having real house guests. Five house guests to be exact. A Christmas Eve dinner for twenty, and Christmas Day dinner for nine.
I spent a weekend at my first writing retreat in Falcon Lake this month: Wild Writing In The Boreal. There were many jokes about wild women writing, but it was pretty wild if I’m being honest. A large part of this was likely due to the fact that, by chance, the group turned out to be made up entirely of women.