I love my husband.
He came into the house yesterday, grinning that grin. I know that grin. It’s what transformed me from, ‘I’m NEVER getting married, or having more kids!” to being a wife, and having another four.
That grin gets me in a lot of trouble, and causes any hardened resolve to turn into paste. Makes me completely weak in the knees…and the head, apparently. Continue reading
A note from Imp:
Yes, I’ve been gone for a while. We’re all ok, everyone’s healthy, and nothing’s burned down. Although, given the forest fires in my province, and smoke so bad here it looked foggy, I did wonder for a while.
I’ve just been a bit overwhelmed with life. The move is ON, and the spectre of taking toddlers on a bus, then a plane, was enough to make me crawl into my closet and refuse to come out. I didn’t, at least not physically. Mentally, however…
And, I’ll be honest. Sometimes it’s hard, balancing writing with everything else. I needed to take a bit of a break, to figure out what I’m doing, and how best to do it.
Still haven’t figured out the ‘best way to do it’ part, but I’m back.
So. Today’s post…Witnessing Karma
Pee and mud, folks. Who knew they’d be karma’s tools?
Twelve years of marriage, missing?
I swear to God, my life resembles a bad sitcom at times.
And yesterday was totally one of those times.
Wolf and I, despite being married for over twelve years, never bothered to get a copy of our marriage certificate. Let me explain, for those who may have a different process where they live.
We got our marriage licence, his uncle performed the wedding. Continue reading
Not my kid. Honest.
Long story short, we’re scrambling, and planning to be out of here in roughly two months. To move a very long distance from where we currently are. (Relax, not about to invade another country, staying in Canada)
Basically, looking to get rid of anything that isn’t irreplacable, or too expensive not to take. Continue reading
The difference between theory, and reality
Driving with Wolf yesterday.
Every now and then, we escape the Minions, usually to go grocery shopping. God Bless Diva, our willing babysitter, who works for cash, and/or a Dr. Pepper.
I don’t remember how exactly we got on to the topic, but I started thinking about when we first got together. Continue reading