Last year, I requested about a dozen seed catalogs in late October and early November.  Early’s was well… early, arriving in December when I needed an infusion of hope that Spring was coming.  And I kind of chuckle at my impatience for the snow to be gone in December since winter solstice, or the first day of winter, officially begins that month, on the 21st… Winter is just getting started and my thoughts are pushing forward for what’s to come!  So what’s a girl to do when there’s snow on the ground and cold weather forcing her to remain inside?  After reading through the seed catalog for the fourth time (and marvelling at the price jump in all things seeds or bulbs), I planted two sweet potato cuttings that had sprouted.  Then I took a look at my African Violets and decided they needed a larger home.  

We had a mind numbing breakdown in our family last week.  I’m still becoming reaccustomed to the sounds of traffic, our neighbours talking outside, sirens as emergency vehicles respond to calls of people in distress and light pollution from what we affectionately call “the monstrosity” of the three story building that is lit up non-stop, 24/7,  practically right outside our front picture window.  It’s funny how living in a northern community for almost ten months can make a person lose track of the characteristics that are beloved to city dwellers but take some getting used to for those of us not accustomed to a faster pace of living.  When my family and I first moved to the North, I had a similar problem - it took me a long time to sleep because the room was so dark.  It was too quiet but there was excessive air traffic, much more than I am aware of living in the city.  And the stars filled the sky so brightly at night, even my children spent time star gazing each evening before bed.  Both ways of life are very different from each other but I was able to adapt, make the necessary adjustments, and find ways to become accustomed to the changes brought about by our move.  I told myself the challenges facing our family, with the change of dynamics, would take some getting used to but we would be okay.

I have bumped fists with people for as long as I can remember. It is an action I use in place of a hug.  Of course I give and receive hugs from my children, unconditionally and without reservation.  But it is rare that I ever hug.  To me a hug is far more intimate than a kiss.  With a kiss, a quick peck on either cheek or a brief swipe of lips and the contact is over.  A hug is different.  First of all, you’re opening your arms and welcoming another human into your personal space.  And then their arms wrap around you, and yours enfold them.  This is when the real chaos starts, for me.  Because now I’m trapped.  This person is holding me hostage in their arms and I can’t think of a single, respectful way to get out of the vice grip holding me in place.  That’s when the negotiations begin… “Okay” I say, indicating I’ve had enough.  They remain oblivious and, if anything, they tighten their grip.  I pat my hand against their back and then sweepingly rub where I just tapped.  Their grip doesn’t loosen.  And then they start swaying.  May a hole open up in the floor and swallow me now, I pray, as my eyes close and I try not to get queasy.  There’s nothing worse than getting a seasick feeling from a hug.  Finally, finally I feel their arms loosen and I pull out of the embrace exclaiming with absolute sincerity, “It is so good to see you!”  I mean it - I much prefer seeing someone’s face than looking over their shoulder like a baby being burped following a feeding.  I have other reasons for disliking hugs - I associate them with “goodbye” which I’ve never been good at saying.  ‘See you.‘ ‘Talk to you later.’  But “Goodbye” has always felt too permanent for me.  There’s a finality to it that I just can’t get passed.  And when I finally use the expression it means I’ve accepted the fact the other person and I shall part company for an extended period of time - perhaps forever.  I have a distaste for hugging because I don’t like feeling my heartbeat either slow or speed up to match the other person’s beating heart.  Also, I don’t like being sniffed.  I remember being hugged, released then pulled in for a longer and tighter hug because I smelled like coconut.  I use coconut scent to help deter ticks and lice, which researchers claim both hate, so the scent repels them.  It didn’t work for me that day when I got pulled into an extra hug, although I can’t decide if the person hugging me would be referred to as either a tick or a louse! I still prefer the scent of coconut over other repellants I could use to avoid these insects though.

Over the weekend I glanced out the window to admire the blue sky, big, cotton candy fluff clouds and the trees standing tall in contrast to the white snow.  I watched the boughs of the Spruce trees dancing and swaying as the wind gracefully flowed through the branches, sending snow crystals flying through the air and to the ground.  As the pieces of frozen snow fell, the light caught them and turned them into rainbows for a split second.  It seemed like the perfect day - to fly a kite.

The other day I was playing a game of Candy Crush with one of my two year old boys.  In between levels, a game was advertised and I had to turn the screen away from him.  It was two o’clock in the afternoon and the highly inappropriate ad showed zombies stalking people and very graphic, violently bloody death scenes where zombies tried to ambush people.  I think that’s what it’s about as I only saw the beginning and end of the ad however the five or ten seconds combined that I viewed was more than enough to leave my stomach queasy.  What if I hadn’t been with my child and he’d witnessed the whole ad? And what if he was just a little older, as my seven year old is, and he has an electronic device which only allows him to play games I’ve approved?  He’s using his free time for the minutes I’ve allowed him to view his device but I haven’t approved the ads that will leave a lasting impression with him.  And that’s scary.  Do you know what’s even scarier?  This isn’t the first time something like this has happened to one of my children.