Rock bottom will always be the foundation

If any given picture can say 1000 words, this one might speak a million.

This was about two years ago, just days after being discharged from my last and final admission at St. Paul's Hospital. This was my rock bottom. Completely hopeless (evidently except for the little flame I could not understand!) and wanting to be dead. After failing to kill myself in one swift motion, I was thrust back into my personal hell. It felt like I had been on a spinning carnival ride for hours and suddenly flung off. How was I to contend with days that kept coming that I had not intended on seeing??

Though not the picture of health, it wasn't my worst physical state in most ways. My weight was not at a scary low, my labs had been stabilized, my ECGs normalized - but my mind was completely gone.

Two years later, during this present week, as my life keeps moving forward, I made great strides in the direction of more full integration into the world. I came out on top of all my fears. I am proud of myself but more importantly, feel incredibly connected.

For example: one day I was on my way to take care of anxiety-provoking business, I chose instead of looking at the ground and trying to focus my mind internally to find peace, to look up and notice the people walking by me. Downtown there is not shortage of people for watching!! Most people were walking quickly, clearly business district employees, talking on their cell phones or at least checking their devices for whatever reasons; a handful were out for leisurely strolls alone or with friends; there were the token homeless asking for change; and another bunch that I could not figure out beyond humans being and humans doing.

As I experienced my own anxiety and chose to look, really look, at those passing by me (some returned the acknowledgement and many didn't), I became so curious about the stories behind the faces. Who on this street was returning my smile despite an acute experience of their own pain and difficulties? How many were truly happy and peaceful despite the chaos that can be life? Who else observed the alley I just passed full of cherry blossoms against the communist-style grey building and who was too caught up? Who were these people, that I may never see again, that shared these moments with me?

It was a beautiful experience and lead to the feelings of connectivity I mentioned above.

There is a quote that says something along the lines of, “I wonder how many people I have looked at but never really seen.” I attempt to cross that line frequently; to look at people and see them. As I did just that on this day, my anxiety dissipated. I stopped noticing just me and my intense feelings and let myself connect on some level with these strangers who were all walking down the same streets as me. I kind of felt like an army was with me in these unfamiliar faces. I didn't need to talk or explain, I just had to smile at them and look in their eyes and let them see me too.

Compare this experience of stress and anxiety to my experience of the world two years ago! Little brought relief from the agonizing loneliness my eating disorder inflicted on me. Even when I looked at others, it was out from a kind of glass cage. I wanted to reach out but my hands only touched the cold glass when extended. I wanted to be held and saved and to feel love so badly but this barrier kept whatever warmth that was extended to me at a distance. I could see people trying to help but felt just that little bit unreachable - hand to hand with the glass always between.

Add stale negative air that I was breathing and rebreathing in my glass bubble, the image is pretty clear and I was suffocating.

I could never have imagined that just 2 years later, I could have experiences as I do now and finally feel like a part of the world as a whole. I am not caged and no longer do I need the walls I put up before.

I wouldn't change my rock bottom experience because it was what brought my world-wide team together. We realized in our little northern town that I wasn't going to last much longer and we needed to act.

Against what felt like insurmountable resistance in myself, I got from that time which had me taking bed baths; relieving myself in full view on a commode; and enough benzodiazapines, anti-psychotics, and anti-depressants to kill a horse; to where and with whom I needed to be. For those few months I take little credit. I was challenging in my despair. I tried – or at least my eating disorder tried – to sabotage the help that was coming, on numerous occasions. I tried to convince everyone that I wasn't sick or deserving enough of this extreme measure.

The last two years held many long months of pain and fear. I look back and see how my mind resisted even when I had on my bravest face. I didn't know that I was retraining my brain sometimes just by being surrounded by the care of the team in Portugal. I went from belief back to hopelessness and frustration frequently. I asked them to give up on me too when they finally realized that I was going to be the one person that they could keep around for as long as they wanted and would never get better; not to string me along saying that I could change when they knew that I never would. I was assured that they would not torture me like that and that it was a known fact that I would recover, walk through and away from that hell once and for all by following their direction.

Well, here I am. Is life perfect? Of course not!! But it sure is beautiful and I truly feel like a part of it. Even in my scarier moments as I face many experiences that are unfamiliar or familiar with traumatic memories, I know that I am loved no matter what and having conquered the demons that nearly took my life, I know I can face all the challenges I have now and not be defeated. Being really alive was all I ever wanted and I have it now.

It feels so satisfying to be able to pluralize “years” now as it pertains to this part of my life. I imagine that this time next year, I will not even be counting or noticing anniversaries, and that also feels fantastic.

Perhaps it is warranted to put a face to the words of today (though most of my readers know me I think)...fully alive and fully happy.

And with that, I'll reiterate a phrase that I have posted before:

 So worth all of it.

Another "now and then" kind of post

I've taken the last week to really reflect on where I'm at. My sense of wonder at the world and gratitude towards life has only increased through this focused time. Tonight I decided to poke into my past again and see where I was at just months before I left for Portugal. On this day, 2011, I was in hospital according to a blog I kept that I barely remember writing. I've chosen to do a bit of a comparison today and include a couple of excerpts from that time followed by a brief expression of my perspective now.

March, 2011 (complete with no caps):

i'm having a great day. not food wise but aside from that it's really just a good day. i don't know if i can even narrow down what the best thing is...maybe the weather. it's clement (not sunny tho), no wind, moderate temperature. I think the best thing about today is just today. i realized on my walk that i can have a good day separate from food. if we look at food and those behaviors well, i'm a walking death wish, but in many other aspects i am having a fantastic day.

(within the same week)

do i really want to live my life like this?

this seems to be a recurring question. and the answer is no. i'm considering a longer stay [in hospital] again to actually try and work on things. it's only temporary when right now i'm living what could be the rest of my life and is highly undesireable.

i'm so conflicted. i want help. i want to change. i am willing to give it a chance. i just can't do it alone.

i feel like a drama queen when i say i think i have two options here, life or death. i think this disease is killing me.

How frightening and sad to look back at that girl and her thoughts and confusion!! How abstract and impossible my current life would have seemed to her! On the other hand – I am overwhelmed with gratitude for making it through that time and being in this chair, in this moment, in this body, with this experience, that I am now. From today:

How wonderful is life? I find it so amazing. Some people have suggested that because really living is new to me that the “shine” will wear off. I don't think so and I am so sorry this shine is gone for others. Everyday holds so much beauty, endless things to wonder at, and such bountiful goodness!

It has taken much effort and a solid chunk of time to be able to see life for all that it is. These days, that is one thing that I am so thankful for – time. Time to have gone through the process I did and time now to put theory into practice. Not so long ago, when I first came back to Canada, I wanted to jump back into everything especially work. I thought, “It has been long enough, you are strong enough now. You need to give back to society.” I pushed forward and pulled back quickly as my emotional mind wasn't ready for that step. Could I have been successful had I returned to work as soon as I was planning? Probably, yes. I know, however, that it would have been significantly more challenging than it needs to be.

I needed this time.

Time to keep growing and practising. Time to (re)establish myself as the woman I am and want to be. Most recently, time to reflect on the last 3+ months at home – what is working, what isn't and how I can keep moving forward from here.

What a blessing to have the opportunity to do this in my home environment! So much theory from treatment and wisdom extended to me over the last 2 years is now making sense! I look back at how I have moved forward and consider what my focus needs to be now. Among a great assortment of things I am moving towards are: creating further balance and as always, cultivating patience.

As I focus on these things in the context of sustaining my recovery, I am able to see, now, how all this theory applies to “real life”. Work, romantic relationships, friendships, etc. By nurturing who I am as a whole person and allowing that without fear or judgement, I get stronger each day and more solid in all of this living business; as well as more confident in my ability to look into the future and predict that I am going to truly be okay.

In past posts, I mentioned that this doesn't always feel great. It still doesn't in some moments – there are difficult conversations to have or actions to take, occasional hurt feelings, intense missing of people, and anxiety sometimes – however, there is a consistent current of the peace I wish to experience further. In considering the bigger picture (one that I can truly see now!), the temporary discomfort is one part of a path toward so many wonderful things that I can wait it out. I can walk through it optimistically (with support!), and continue to love myself and those around me despite fleeting feelings.

There are eCards all over that state: Expect miracles. To the forlorn person feeling like they are standing at death's door mentally or otherwise and unsure why to look forward and what there is: there is more than could ever be described or explained. As I said nearly a year ago, describing my life now, to me, then, would be like trying to describe the sky to a child who had never left a cave.

So yes, expect miracles and never, ever stop hoping even when you cannot know what you are hoping for!

There is always more to say but for today, that is all. Hang in there, lovelies.

People pleasing? Not really.

My mom is arriving today and I am so looking forward to spending the day with her.  This morning, as I was getting dressed, I realized what a simple example I could use of how things have changed for me regarding the concept of "people pleasing".

This is often a classic trait in people with eating disorders (and "nice" people in the general population possibly resulting in anxiety disorders at some point, not always.  This blog is specific to my eating disorder recovery and the mindset that goes with it and part of my manifestation of symptoms had a lot to do with this characteristic); we want everyone to be okay even at the expense of ourselves.  I continue to want that but am finding a balance that keeps me in the equation too.

So!  My example!  I generally choose my clothes for the following day at night just because I don't want to be bothered with that decision in the morning.  Last night was no different.  This morning, I got up, showered, dressed and glanced in the mirror and thought...mom would probably like to see you in something a little more girly.  I smiled because this thought came with no distress.  I ran through my options in my head and changed my clothes.  

In years gone by, since I was a little girl, I wore whatever my mom thought looked good on me even if I hated it.  I remember many outfits where I looked in the mirror and thought, "This is so dorky" or more often, "This makes me look chubby" (at as young as 7 that I can remember clearly).  Despite those thoughts, I would see my mom smiling proudly at how "cute" or "pretty" I looked or how lovely the fabric was, and regardless of how I felt about the clothes, I would choose what had lit her face up the most.  Sure, I would grumble frequently when I put on these outfits but frequently, I would walk out of my room, ready for school, and mom would tell me how lovely I looked.  I wanted so badly to be a daughter that she was proud of that if it meant wearing something I felt less than confident in, that was okay.  It seemed to make her happy.

I went through phases over the years - sometimes wearing things just to get a reaction from her that was less than positive.  Other times if mom said she liked to see me in pink, I would seek out a pink shirt or dress even if I really wanted a grey one.  

To clarify, there was never any negative intent behind her words.  I know now that she probably would have preferred if I had chosen what I liked best but I didn't ever voice my thoughts and feelings to her about this.

Today, the difference was subtle but existed.  I considered what my mom might think of my outfit and I'm sure she would have liked it, but, I knew I had something slightly more girly that would really make her smile to see me in.  I like both outfits, I bought them on my own volition!  What is the harm in choosing the one that I hadn't planned on wearing when I know it will bring a smile to her face?  There isn't any!

It's this equal worth - mine and her's - that finally exists that allows me to bend myself ever so slightly to enhance another person's experience.  Can I change something and have the situation still work well for me and possibly better for someone else?  How much am I willing to "bend"?

Today's situation is so simple but illustrates a way of being and thinking that is so drastically different than before.  I still want people to be okay, happy, and comfortable as much as possible, that is just me.  I do not identify as a "people pleaser" in a way that negatively impacts me anymore (any friend can attest to that, I'm sure).  If my mom would prefer to see me in long skirts and blouses, I would not likely accommodate that because as superficial as clothing is, it is how I present visually to the world and is a small aspect of my Self that is less often compromised these days.  

This way of thinking applies much more broadly and there are likely many more examples that I could use and might one day.  The point is:  I will not shrink and change and morph myself to extents that leave me out.  I also know that those that have my best interests in mind, would not want me to change for them - my mom would be happy to see me in sweats and a hoody today if that's what I felt like wearing - she doesn't actually care!  

What's most fun for me is that people might not ever know of the small things that were considered, in my world, for them but that's just part of honouring myself too.  I enjoy the thought and the result - like today, knowing my mom will smile and have a little comment and see me being me merely in a different outfit than I had chosen last night.

When it is done having equal value as everyone else in my life, I am not dragged down and stressed, I am built up and energized.

So, for you mom, this is as much girlishness I could muster and I know you're going to think it's "cute".  Love you.

The Great Adventure

So much to say, so many topics to write about, so much learning and growth continuing to occur!

Today I thought about how wonderful the experience of simple daily life is - how great the little things are and how much each step I take, each challenge I meet and surpass is a gift. 

Sure, I'm proud of myself but that matters less and less these days.  Each moment contains such wealth - my interactions, my thoughts, my activities, are leading to a past I can look back on fondly.

In the past month or so, I focused on doing something each day, even one thing, that I could not have done or appreciated fully when I was sick.  The options for this are plentiful and range from squash games, to venturing to busy public places that would have provoked panic attacks previously; from having a good conversation to enjoying quiet company of just me or that of others without my mind trekking off to some negative place.  Peace is still so new and pleasant that I notice it and I hope that I do not lose that despite how far I move from that old negative world.

Tonight, as I wrap up a long day with a few new challenges, I thought back to last February....

It was on this day, 2012, that I left my treatment environment to meet my sister in Lisbon for my first trip back to Canada.  I could not have known that "great adventure" was just a tiny, baby taste of what real life could contain.

Ah, yes, what an adventure.  Life is so good when we let it be.

Eating Disorder Awareness Week, 2013

I have been unusually quiet this Eating Disorder Awareness Week. In fact, I was unaware this was the week until Wednesday!! Why? Because this year I am busy living a life largely separate from an eating disorder. In years past, I was living the hell that we as a collective group of sufferers, families, and professionals were trying to bring awareness about. This year, finally, I have tasted freedom. No, my journey is not over. I work each day, still, to choose life and strengthen my real self.

Today it dawned on me to share a response to the note of thanks I extended last year, mid way through my brilliantly supported journey to wellness and recovery; to offer perspective to sufferers who are aware of how painful the journey is and who ask “why?” they are still trying to stay alive and if anyone on the outside can grasp just how painful it is; who feel lonely despite being surrounded by people. When I received this, I cried. Often the degree of love that people hold for me blows me out of the water - still.

I want to keep the writer anonymous but for friends and families who are walking the road next to a loved one, sometimes, we can't hear you; the negative thoughts and feelings are so strong that your words and actions are twisted against us; sometimes I thought people on the outside were the crazy ones for continuing to care. Now, I believe how much you love me and I look back and thank you all for being reasons for me to hold on and for being the people that held on for me.

We had begun to see the real light when this was written, had started to understand that there was an end to mine and that of those around me struggle and pain.

So with that, here is this!

“Thank you, Julia, for reaching into the void for a hand to hold when all you could see was evil and darkness.

Thank you for listening to voices of hope when you didn't feel any.

Thank you for having a sense of humor, even on days when you didn't have the energy to enjoy the laugh yourself.

Thank you for spreading as much love as you could muster even when all we wanted was that you could begin to love yourself a little hair as much as we loved you.

Thank you for being nicer to yourself [when I was around].

Thank you for taking yourself to ER all (each and every one of) the times you did...and thank you for everything else you did to stay alive, even though it was so hard.

Thank you for letting me hug you when I had nothing to say.

Thank you for telling me what you found helpful and not-so-helpful.

Thank you for staying in hospital for the weeks you needed before going to Portugal.

And more than anything, thank you for taking your courageous journey that will restore us to each other - sharing love, hope, life, dreams and beauty and bearing witness to each others' journeys of changing the world by spreading peace and joy.

I have missed you...and I can't wait for your struggle to be over and you to taste total freedom! Life is just beginning for you, and I am so grateful that chances are overwhelmingly in our favour - we will be a part of each others' lives for a long time yet. Thanks to you."

So to this beautiful soul who is so close to me in my days still, I can finally say "you're welcome".

To life!! And the everlasting possibility for recovery, renewal, and brilliant experience of love and joy.

A Day in "The Simple Life"

*click click click* *skid*

*click click click* *pause*

I slowly enter consciousness.

*click click click*

What is that? Daisy...surely it's too early for her to be up? I roll over to check the time, my face gets too close to the bedside and I am greeted with a big retriever lick from Missy. She stomps her feet back and forth, her tail thumps against the floor, all as if to say, “Oh goodie, you're awake!” 7:01am. I have to smile because as much as I would prefer to be back in my dream, these are pretty sweet things to wake up to. Something scratches my arm...no, scratch isn't quite the word. Ah, a cat lick. Carlie has woken up too – perhaps I woke her with my turn. 

This is it, my day has begun.

I swing my legs off the bed and resist rubbing my eyes. Wood stove heat, though cosy, has me going through heaps of eye drops in the mornings. I mumble greetings to the beings that are pacing with excitement and perhaps a bit of urgency to get outside,

“Good morning, dogs. Good morning, Carlie.”

It has become routine that I come last in the morning. I shuffle to the front door and let the dogs out. Every time it seems like Christmas morning for them to go out to relieve themselves and play in the snow. I crank open the damper on the wood stove to take the chill off the house. Through the kitchen, the open concept is perfect for sleepy morning routines, I click the “on” button of the coffee machine and head back down the hallway. I switch on the light in the boys' room, aka. The Science Room, aka. Butters the bunny's bedroom. 

 Glancing around, Juno, one of the other cats it there too. He blinks at me with slight accusation for interrupting his morning slumber.

“Morning, Butters.”

“Morning, Juno.”

It's my turn – or so I think. Fully awake now, I walk into the bathroom. Frankie, the 6^th four-legged being, is curled up on the bath mat. “Good morning, Frankie”. He always seems thrilled to see me, it doesn't matter what time. He meows, purrs, does figure eights around my feet. 

 What a crew.

I hear Daisy the dachshund’s high pitched bark. Without time to get to the end of the hall on my way to the door, she barks again. And again. I'm coming, Daisy! She pushes through a barely open door, whole body wagging as wiener dogs tend to do. Again, I have to smile. The sight never gets old. She plops herself in front of the wood stove with attitude.

My stomach growls. I love breakfast time. Ah, but so do they. Water changed, food bowls filled. I go through my morning mental checklist, yes, now it is my turn. I go about fixing my own breakfast, pour my freshly brewed coffee, sit down, and open my lap top.

*Ruff*

Missy. It's less of a “ruff” and more of an “a-roof!” (complete with exclamation mark).

Up again to let her in. She pushes by with far more force than Daisy simply due to size. Tail wagging, she scatters snow all over with each eager step to her breakfast bowl.

Now it is my turn!

Mew. Meow. *nails on glass* I cringe (it's worse than a chalkboard) and turn around. There's the aloof Juno, always the first of the cats to venture outside in the morning. I get up and let him out. The next 40 minutes that I always think are “mine” are punctuated with the cats coming in and out, seems they can't make up their mind about where they'd like to be.

Emails caught up on. Facebook browsed. I take the last sip of my second cup of coffee and glance at the clock. Just after 8am, the barn animals will be waiting.

I pull my jeans on over my pyjama bottoms, grab my sweater and a toque. Missy knows what's happening and she's rather excited about it - barn time! Racing up and down the hallway, wagging her tail so strongly it could be used as a weapon – let's go! I yank on my Bogs, my barn gloves, and gather the hose that sits in the house entrance to prevent freezing overnight – oh the things I have never had to think about before!

Missy is already out the door and rolling in the snow again. The barn isn't far away though hauling a long hose through 6” of fresh powder makes it seem farther. I attach it to the water supply when I get there and pull open the big door.

I'm greeted by loud bleets.

“Good morning, goats!”

“Good morning, chickens!”

“Good morning, Brenda.”

Cockadoodledoo!

One of the two roosters is walking around as if he was the first to wake on any given day. I smile.

Brenda the cow stands up. I count, 1, 2, 3, 4 chickens. Good. Peak in on the boy goats – 2. All is well.

Over to the mama goats and kids, fresh water in the morning to them seems as exciting as a glass of wine in the evening to me. Some of the kids are still sleeping. I feel myself soften inside as I see pairs and triplets curled and huddled together, blinking sleepily. Their mothers come to the fence and greet me with more bleets. It's like they are telling me about their night. What stories!! One night we had an earthquake and one mama goat didn't stop talking about it for over 24 hours. She has settled now.

Water running, kids now up and playing on the jungle gym of houses in their pen.

As that runs, I fill Brenda's feeder with hay. She's eating for two – pregnant and due in April.

While she munches, I move the hose to her water “bowl”. It's got to hold 30L and needs filling each morning!

Breakfast for the goats now. I climb the stack of hay bails, 3 high, so that I can fill their feeder from the top. Breaking open hay bails has become second nature.  As I drop flakes in the feeder, nearly all of the 18 goats trot over, pushing each other out of the way with their horns.

Time to muck out Brenda's stall. I think that calf in utero is producing its own share of manure already! Nearly a month into this, I'm still not so comfortable being in the stall with a giant cow. She's never done anything but lick me but that doesn't change the fact that she is a very powerful animal.

When her area is as clean as I am able to make it, I toss in a big flake of hay for her to munch on when she's done with her feeder – she needs about a bail per day just for herself and growing calf.

Once again, I go through my mental checklist of morning barn activities. Done for now. I have a quick chat and pat with Meadow, one of the most darling little goats. She is as old as the mother goats but is dwarfed in some way and absolutely adorable.

Back into the house. Daisy, Carlie, and Frankie have taken up residence in front of the wood stove. Juno is no where to be seen. My responsibilities to my 2 and 4 legged friends are complete and I can carry on with what I need to get done for me. It is a great feeling to know that I have all of them depending on me. Despite how I feel, I need to get up, get dressed, and get my jobs done. It is not without lovely reward. They seem to have taken to me, I am never really alone out here, and I smile a lot because of them.

My farm day has not ended, but this post has. The little ones have found comfy places for their siestas and I can do what I need to do for me for a few hours.

Farewell, 2012

I'm sorry I've been such a crap blogger.  She who said not so long ago that the "struggle" had lessened significantly has been back fighting a rather exhausting fight.  I try to select my more objective and positive days to post and I have those times still but, I am tired much of the time from the battle to have those moments.  I also like to extend solutions I have discovered, if at all possible, to hurdles I have encountered.  Not indicating that I think that what works for me will work for everyone, just in a way that gives the message of hope.  Today, I must extend a message of perseverance.

Interestingly enough, as I review my posts, I sometimes encourage myself because what I write is honest.  I know without a doubt that I have felt what I expressed before and I can feel it again if I wait for it and invite it.

That's what my last entry, before the Christmas Day one, has been.  It has kept the wee flame of hope and desire for something better, alive in me.  My drive and determination are still exceptionally strong to see this through to the end.  To walk away from all things eating disordered and step fully into life and myself.  I will get there but I am realizing, with a slight frown, it will take even more time.  During that time, I will need to continue investing extensive effort into my journey to the wellness I desire.

It has been hard and painful again.  Some days my brain feels like it has been wrung out.  I recently saw a book titled, Mind Over Mind and that really made sense to me.  Much of my life now is based on choosing one way of thinking over another and therefore new habits develop - in theory.  I see and understand the theory and it makes sense to me so I am working at that.  

It's like riding emotional waves and some I don't navigate as well and get caught in some sort of undertow.  However, I remain a strong "swimmer", I can feel that I am nearly drowning but each time, see the surface, the sun, and use all my strength to get to that surface simply to breathe.  If I'm lucky, there is a lapse between waves and I can rest, other times, I am thankful for the breath and am faced with the next wave with just a quick gasp, no time for more than a sputter.

What holds me down between the "waves" is any sort of ruminating on why that didn't go as well as the last one or thinking about the next to come.  Thankfully, this week, I was given a simple but so meaningful suggestion:  Do not be afraid/frustrated/impatient that you are not there yet! Also do not think that people will be thinking less or differently of you because you still have things to work on!  We all do!!

I am often all three of those things.  Though I cannot control what feelings will come up, I have decided that I can choose how much "emotional airtime" I give the feelings.  I can notice them, acknowledge and validate them, and move on in my thinking.  Though the feeling might persist, I have the ability to choose my thoughts.  It is tiring but, in my my mind, is essential to the process.  In other, brighter, moments, I have wonderful feelings coupled with pleasant and confirming thoughts and at those times I coast a bit and take my relief as it is offered by the universe and my emotional mind.

As I realize that it is okay for me not to have it all figured out, that it is merely part of the human condition, I am starting to let people in again.  A great fault of mine is a severe drive towards independence out of fear of unhealthy co-dependence.  This has left me feeling isolated at times and now, awkwardly finding ways to reach out and allow myself the courtesy of needing company on this journey for a while longer.  I see the value already, though dislike the practice, of being able to reach out, to not be okay, and to let others know.  To not be okay all the time does not mean I am a basket case or falling apart, it just means I continue to fight my demons.  That, I know, is an expression of strength.  It takes far more strength to be vulnerable with people than it does to appear collected all the time.  Again, something I know in theory and am learning in practice very slowly.

In the meantime, life goes on in beautiful ways.  I am skiing quite a lot and have done both downhill and cross-country.  I have gone tobogganing with some of my favourite kids.  I am farm sitting (that needs to be another blog post, just for fun!) for acquaintances and am busy with my troop of two and four legged beings.  I have had some really great moments with my family.  I have enjoyed the festive season (though I am ready for it to be over) in a different way than I can remember.  I am looking at returning to work and making those arrangements with a bit of trepidation as well as much excitement.  

So, for tonight and possibly for 2012, that is all.  What a year.

As always, so much gratitude to my readers, supporters, cheerleaders, and pillars.  2013 is looking rather awesome, together.