Newborn Babies.

I love newborn babies.
They really are the most precious thing.
Friends of ours recently had themselves a sweet, little girly on Christmas Day.
I got to snuggle her for a few minutes today.
Despite her smelly, little, newborn poo, it was like a tiny slice of heaven to brighten a dull Monday.
Newborns remind us what it's all about. They remind us how delicate life is.
Every single time I pick up a newborn I get a huge case of the warm-fuzzies.
It's crazy to think that at one point, we were all five-day old babies. We were these sweet helpless babes with doting parents and friends.
We were mushy-gushy goodness.
I am at a stage in life where I have a lot of people in my life having babies. (And they are planned... woah!)
I'm grateful to have all kinds of babies to snuggle.
I'm also grateful my love for babies doesn't scare my friends and family off and they keep on bringing me babies to hold and love.
This post doesn't have much content. No message. No meaning.
Just a chance to brag about snuggling a newborn on a really boring Monday.

-xo

One Year.

A year ago today, we lost Brittany. 

I hate remembering this day,  but I cannot help myself. It's forever engrained. 

I miss her every single day. 

Sometimes, I wear Clinique Happy just so I can smell her scent. It makes her seem close – not that she ever feels far away. 

I feel like I carry her with me everywhere. We did so much together it's hard to not have her pop into my head at random times when I'm doing normal things. 

I don't mind having her pop into my head. It makes her feel so close. 

It makes me feel like she's in my head and she knows everything I didn't get a chance to share with her out loud. 

Today, I know I'm not the only one struggling with remembering the pain of her loss. It's one of the shittiest memories I have. I also am blessed to have some of the most incredible memories I could imagine and the most incredible friends and family to remember her with. 

When I think of Britt, I think about her family and how they moulded her into the most incredible woman. I'm grateful for them and the friend they gave me. 

For those of you who had the pleasure of knowing Britt, remember the good stuff today. Remember it every day, but especially today. 

For those of you who didn't know her, I presume you have a best friend. Everyone has that one person. The person you call first when something big happens - good or bad. The person who can read every look on your face. The person you can't imagine living without. Hold them close today. Life is precious and it flies by. Make the memories now. You hold onto those for an eternity.

xo

Green is the new white.

Finally I can leave my house without wanting to break down and cry.
It is a little greener.
I can plant things.
We've had a 100% reduction in snow. Green is the new white.
I've got my Community Garden plot, my greenhouse, and some planters on the go.
If you haven't noticed, I'm pleased as punch.
This year's goal for my floral decor is to finally move away from all purple flowers. I'm going with a leafy look this year. When I can place things outside of my greenhouse without worry of frost, I will gladly post photos. As of right now, it is a mumble-jumbled disaster waiting for a day off and a frost-free night.
All my plans are formulating. My head is swimming in pretty things.
I think this weekend will be the two days I've been hoping for. (Minus the forecasted rain)
For all of you who sat through my I hate six months of winter blog, this should be a welcome change of pace.

Same branch from my winter rage blog. It is green :D

Stuff is growing. No big deal. 

The little buds were spring. They blew up. I like it. 

Can't wait to share more not-winter with y'all!

xo

It's still winter. It's definitely April.

I had the worst realization of my life today.

Shilo has been plagued by snow for six months. Straight. 

I haven't seen my grass in half a year. That is a true story.

I recall having snow before Remembrance Day as I recall a massive snowstorm only adding to the already collected snow. I also recall slipping on ice and photographing the entire Shilo parade with a snow-dampened bum. 

This means we're hitting six months with snow on the ground. 

Prairie problems. 

I am sick of white. I am starting to hate looking out at the never-ending sight line of the pancake-flat prairies and seeing nothing but a thick blanket of snow. I am dying for some colour. I love the summer here. The crops are colourful and the sky is a blue so clear it could stop your heart. 

The breathtaking prairie sky is eternally fascinating to me. There is no city smog, there are no towering mountains to block the sun as it sinks, and the clouds somehow seem higher here. 

It's all so open. 

The snow makes it feel closed in.

I am starting to feel as if I'm trapped in Narnia. 

I can tell you that I still have all this snow on the ground but I figured everyone should see it. 

I actually ventured outside today and took some pictures. 

Considering how little I appreciate snow and cold, you should all appreciate this. 

The view from the backyard. Taken April 9. No lies. 

What you see when you visit. Snow and snow. 

What you see when you leave our house.
No surprises here.

That is not a miniature snow shovel, friends.

Little tree buds could be a sign of spring....

All of these were taken today. Today is April 9. I hope you all see the problem here.
So, if you live some place where it's not quite spring, chin-up.
It could be winter in April.
Rant done.

xo

Sign a donor card, make a miracle.

It's not often that I share something this personal with the internet.
Gear up people. This is the deep stuff.
At work, I interviewed  a local soldier about a blood drive he is involved with. This, naturally, led to a conversation about the value of donating blood, and led into a conversation about donating organs.
Which hit me like a ton of bricks.
Recently, I lost my dear Brittany.
She was a double lung recipient.
When I met her, I had no idea. In fact, I knew her for about a week before I found out that she had Cystic Fibrosis and a set of healthy lungs from a donor.
It was a strange moment. It was like knowing that little yellow donor card in my wallet could make a difference.
After I found out, I changed my donor status from "Transplant only" to "Transplant and Research". If my organs aren't good enough for transplant when my time comes, maybe they can be used to conduct research that will save a life.
I am unbelievably grateful to whichever family it was that made sure to donate their loved ones organs to save Brittany. I am so grateful, that sometimes I actually feel guilty. Somebody lost a child, a sister, a friend, or maybe even a lover and I'm just happy Brittany got some lungs.
Had Brittany not received this gracious donation, we never would have met. That pains me more than out short time together. Sometimes I feel like a bag of crap for not treating her like she was more breakable – but I am certain she'd have slapped me silly if I had. Maybe that's why we worked so well together.
I am pretty sure we met at the perfect time in both our lives. We were both in need of the kind of friendship we grew to have.
Brittany filled a gap I didn't know I had in my heart. I can see the gap she's left everywhere else as well – especially in her family.  I love them like my own – even in their darkest times, they took me in and let me grieve along side them.
I have a lot of beautiful memories and for that, I am grateful. I'd like to tell you that we took earth-shattering vacations and partied like rock stars, but we didn't. We just did a whole lot of nothing special together and had A LOT of fun doing it.
I really hadn't started this with intentions to bring you all down. I apologize.
I started this with intentions of telling you why you need to sign a donor card.
Sure, you will save the life of the recipient, but you will change the lives of so many more for the better.
You will give someone the chance to have a beautiful, life-changing friendship.
You will give a family the opportunity to see a girl grow into a woman to be proud of.
You will give young friends the chance to grow up together.
You will give the world the chance to see a miracle.
Signing that card will give you the chance to make a world of difference...
I may be sad because Brittany is no longer here, but I had the chance to know and love her. There will never be a time when I won't miss her, but I will always feel the love in my memories – and that's what counts.

Celebrating Britt's Anniversary. 

Get info and get registered --> Canadian Transplant Association 

Also, donate blood. That's a good thing too.


xo

A new mug and heavenly pearls.

I have a bit of a problem.

I am addicted to tea. I'd like to think I am simply a tea connoisseur, but I'm afraid I am a full-blown addict. 

I have a an entire cupboard dedicated to tea. Every now and then, I purge a few different kinds and immediately run to my local tea shop to buy more. By run, I mean get in my car and drive the thirty minutes from base to Brandon. Lord knows if I'm running, you should too. There is likely a monster chasing me. Or a beaked animal. I am terrified of birds. 

As I am a tea snob addict connoisseur, I have a few preferences and habits that are nearly embarrassing. For example, I like my tea to be properly steeped. I am guilty of recently stopping a young lady working in a coffee shop from massacring my tea and giving her a lesson in making tea. I haven't ordered a tea there since. In fact, I doubt I am even welcome there anymore. 

Another example of my habits is my incessant need to buy specialty tea products. I'm talking teapots, warmers, steepers, perfect scooping spoons, mugs with their own steepers, and EVERY tea lovers most valued possession: the travel mug. 

I've been through more than I care to discuss. My all-time favourite travel companion has been the Libre. 

I love it. 

It loves me back. 

We have an excellent relationship. 

I broke my Libre about 8 months ago and I incessantly bugged the tea shop to order them in. The problem: the price. They are more of an investment than some other tea mugs and with a glass inner, not a big seller in freezing cold Manitoba. NOTHING would ruin your day more than your glass breaking first thing in the morning when you're on the way to work. Mine broke in an unfortunate kitchen accident. I was devastated. I'd used this mug for nearly three years with no complaints and no issues. A travel mug lasting that long in our home is unheard of. 

Today I found a new one locally. It was the best day ever. 

I tried to make the change other mugs in the last eight months. I mean, I really tried. I figured I could get by just fine.  

I started off with the Bodum. Great mug so long as you don't love Rooibos. Then I gave the Timolino a go. Decent mug for the price, but it's not glass. 

Sure, I will still use the others, but I am so pleased to have a Libre back in my life. I even sprung for the big one. I would never advise only having one mug. ALWAYS have a back-up. It may not be your favourite, but you never know when you'll need it. 

When we were posted, I dropped the plastic mug I had selected to be my trip mug. When I say dropped, I mean left it atop my Honda and took off. I had to wait five days for my other mug to arrive with the rest of my belongings.

From left to right: Bodum, Timolino, and Libre. 

I understand a forty dollar mug is not everyone's cup of tea. I'm not saying buy it. I'm simply telling you how much I love it. Truthfully, I could have ordered online. By the time I gave in an realized my Libre was what was missing in my life, it was winter. I really didn't want to risk shipping in the cold. It's got a PVC outer, but I cannot imagine the absolute devastation I would face if it arrived damaged. I waited. By chance, I came across it in the natural food store. Who knew?!?

At the risk of sounding like paid advertising, I will tell you why the Libre is superior: The lid. That's it. The glass is a bonus as it keeps heat very well, but so does the Timolino. It is ALL about the lid. 

The lid is gorgeous, has what I consider the perfect basket, and is super easy to clean. It rinses easily with no weird nooks or crannies to wash and it doesn't let sneaky Rooibos get through. Nothing is more attractive that swallowing a big ol' bit of tea. 

This is the kind of day that makes tea snobs smile. 

This week I also got my hands on a brand spanking new tea. I always keep a green jasmine on hand. It soothes my soul. This time, I sprung for the good stuff. The tea that is $13 for 50g. Hand rolled, beautiful, just jasminey enough, glorious tea formed graciously into pearls. What a fabulous change to my line-up.

Heaven in the form of pearls. 

My other teas are jealous. My only mistake this week was having Jon along for my tea extravaganzas. The man nearly died of shock when my tea haul was rang up and the only reason he didn't pass out when I bought the Libre is because he was sick of my whining about it. 

I suppose I could have worse habits. 

I also hope you don't think I am just some insane tea lady...  

xo

Knit, Knit, Knitty, Knit, Knit.

I started knitting about eight months ago. It has become my life's new obsession.
I feel like I've started into this hobby about half my life too late. I love it.
I find myself receiving a lot of inspiration from Pinterest. I started a crafty board. Frankly, it may as well be labelled as a knitting board, but I cannot be bothered to move that many pins to a new board.
Thus far, I've made a lot of dishcloths, a ton of pattern samples, and I am finishing up my second scarf.
My knitting life has reached a new pinnacle: I am about to embark on my first afghan.
I am itching for Michael's to release a coupon of epic proportions. The yarns I'm eyeballing for my afghan are genuine, non-acrylic, and cost enough for this to feel like a an investment. Something about snuggling up under acrylic feels wrong. It's got to be the real deal.
I've also got a second afghan in the books. Thanks to Handicrafter cotton, it will be genuine, but significantly less expensive than my first endeavor into blankets. Before I jump into Afghan #2, I must master picking-up stitches.
Next on my list, is mastering knitting in the round. I've attempted it twice. I'm close, but not quite there. Mittens, socks, and hats are in the distant future.
Right now, I am in love with seed stitch. I love it so much that I plan a whole blanket in seed stitch. It looks fancy, but it is stupid simple. It also feels durable.
It is the kind of stitch that looks impressive enough that I can tell people I poured my heart and soul into a lovely afghan.
The beautiful thing about knitting is there is always something new to learn. Right now, I'm happy with my minimal skills. I knit, I purl, and I'm content with that. I will NEVER know it all. There are so many different patterns, stitches, and techniques that I will never become bored.
If you've never tried to knit, I encourage you to try.
It's kept me sane through the snowy months. Considering I have 765 million feet of snow in my front yard and I am positive it's never going to melt (prairie life), creating afghans will be both entertaining and useful.
Look at that: two birds, one stone.

xo

Reason I stayed inside all winter. All the trees have looked like this since November.