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This morning I was stalking reading some of my favorite lovely blogs. My friend Gerry wrote a brilliant flash piece as a response to Brenda Warren's Sunday whirl. I read the word list and looked at the paintings in my bedroom for

What happens when my two talented daughters decide to create something? Magic! This time magic took shape in a huge dream catcher. Left-over willow branches, yarn, found glass baubles, crow’s feathers. Then the sun caught it and it ignited. Only sweet dreams in our house

Spoke to R this morning about balance. More specifically, where the balancing point is between intellect and emotion. I can tell you right now that my intellect is so not dominant. Not at all, at all. I’m super emotion dominant. If you knew me

I remember we had a children’s book where the pages were cut into thirds and could be flipped to create absurd images. I’m not sure exactly where it is, and most likely at the cabin, but I remember the pictures;

One of my most favourite old books is falling apart. It is a small, leather bound, 1907 book-of-the- heart written by Elbert Hubbard called White Hyacinths. Before it eventually disintegrates I mean to frame the first page; it read: If