Maybe I never appreciated handmade clothing items when I was young.  I’ve seen a photo of myself, standing next to my Father who is holding my baby sister.  She must have been about eighteen months old so that would make my age about five and a half.  I’m wearing a blue dress and I’m smiling shyly into the camera.  My Uncle is the photographer, my Father’s eldest brother.  He loved me and I loved him.  We had a special bond with common interests, even at my young age.  This particular photograph stands out for me due to the memories attached to it.  Because of my Uncle, they’re good memories.  And if not for him, I would likely look at that photograph and find a way to crop myself out of it. 

Sitting in on a Zoom meeting the other day, I saw the office chair I was sitting on and realized it is nothing like me at all.  It doesn’t reflect my personality or my tastes at all.  Before the meeting was done, I had a ball of yarn and my crochet hook.  An hour later, I have one of several granny squares I’ll need to crochet to make a cover for my office chair.  I’m using a variegated wool that has different shades of green.  I’m not a huge fan of the colour pink but I do like it next to a particular shade of green so a trip to Michaels will be in order the next time I’m in Prince Albert.  Since I’m also online taking classes, I’m able to crochet and listen at the same time.  Time sure flies by quickly when my hands are busy - especially during the class scheduled from 10pm to 1am.  That one is a difficult one for me to enjoy but only because it is so late.

When I started writing the weekly column for the PA Shopper I’m not sure what I was expecting.  I knew writing is a creative outlet I’ve enjoyed on a personal level from as far back as I can remember.  I’ve always written poetry and short stories, for my own personal enjoyment rather than to share with others.  Perhaps I was naive in thinking no one would notice my name on the page.  Or maybe I thought no one would even comment once they did notice my name.  Boy, was I wrong!  

Some of my best memories, growing up, centre around a big kitchen table and all the activities my family and I enjoyed there.  Dad worked away from home during the week but we still gathered at the table daily.  We ate our meals there, did our homework, had family discussions, studied the Bible and played card games there.  It’s where I learned to play checkers and how to count quickly while playing Cribbage.  Before my sons joined our family, I used to feel sorry for my daughter because she’d never have the comradeship of siblings to help her enjoy some of the things I did when I was her age.  It turns out I just had to wait because God had plans in store for me.  And now I have five children who I enjoy knowing and loving - it’s wonderful to see how each of their interests influence the activities we engage in when we are together.

Icicles hang outside my kitchen window, sparkling like diamonds as the sun’s rays touch them in the morning light.  For the first time in about a week we are experiencing blue skies and it feels like a spring day rather than the early days of winter.  I have to step outside for a moment, just long enough to dump the garbage, and the cold air nips at my nose and I don’t linger outside longer than i need to.  It’s so much more comfortable to enjoy cooler weather from inside rather than outside.  I’ve never been a fan of the cold but especially now that my joints swell due to humidity or cold.  I’m learning to predict weather based upon what ails me but I’m not so accurate that I’m willing to challenge the weather report.  Maybe one day!