There’s never a dull moment here in my heart.

I promise that I’m still alive and kicking, although ‘twitching’ might be marginally more accurate. Life has succeeded in chasing me up a tree (again), but it won’t keep me there. No sir. Not while there’s awesome music happening!

I’ve been a busy bee lately and this brilliant week is no exception. If you have no idea what I’m talking about please click the above picture and educate your-fantastic-selves.

I’ll be giving a full, and proper, update sometime after the weekend. Actually, it might just end up being a post full of pictures because I’ll be partially dead due to exhaustion and lack of actual food (strawberry flavored vodka counts as fruit right?).

And on that note – have some amazing music:

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Let’s talk about libraries.

I have always loved books. My earliest memory is of my father reading me Dr. Seuss before bedtime and I distinctly remember begging him to read me ‘just one more’. I also remember my first time in a library. My hometown has a wonderful public library and I spent the majority of my summer holidays curled up in there with all the books. During my first visit, I was with my babysitter Aunty Barb, a kindly old woman, with arms the size of tree trunks, whom I drove partially mad and quite frankly she had a very strong heart for the amount of times I almost gave her a heart attack. I was an awful kid, but I always behaved myself in a library.

I was enchanted. There was a lot of people, but everyone was quiet; talking in whispers, and it was as if the whole building was sacred. I remember being amazed at all of the books; I’d previously had no idea that so many books could exist in one place before. Aunty Barb was holding her breath and watching me like a hawk, waiting for the trouble to start but none did. I just stood there and stared with my jaw somewhere near the floor. Aunty Barb returned her books and picked up some new ones, all the while staring at me like I had grown a second head. For the first time in the four years of my short existence I was behaving myself.

The atmosphere of a library is singularly unique and I’ve never encountered anything quite like it. I’ve seen a library turn the most rowdiest kids into well-behaved darlings the minute they walk through the door; I was one of them. In my childhood it was the ‘magical book place’ and now it’s a safe haven, a quiet place to think and write and research. It’s a place of right answers and facts. It’s a place of sanctuary. My best friend became my best friend in a library. My grandfather met my grandmother in a library and they fell in love there. Libraries are capable of bringing communities together and contain more knowledge than most people will read about in their lifetime. Libraries can open doorways to different worlds and places; they can help you expand your imagination and they will always welcome you with open arms – much like the books they house.

Disney ruined relationship prospects for me, or rather, they raised the bar of my expectations with ‘Beauty and the Beast’. In the middle of the movie The Beast gives Belle a library. HE GIVES HER A LIBRARY. My seven-year old self couldn’t understand why she didn’t propose to him on the spot. If a person gives you a library, you marry them. I still stand by that ridiculous piece of logic today and if I had been Belle the situation would have gone differently:

“Marry me?”

“But I’m a monstrous beast!”

“Honey, you just gave me a library, your excuse is invalid. Now go see if the candelabra knows someone who will marry us.”

Clearly I should just go to rural France and find myself a cursed prince to love so I can get my own library.

I’m sure you could tell but this still needs saying: I love libraries. It’s an unwavering and fierce love, the kind that never truly fades away. I hope that everyone reading this visits their library today because they deserve more love than they are getting. If you’re open-hearted and love your library it will love you back a thousand times stronger.

Hello Winter.

Mother Nature got her winter on, big time, over the last few days. It’s starting to feel like a normal winter instead of a messed up spring. So, I thought I would clarify some Canadian weather terminology.This is the temperature I woke up to this morning. Luckily there’s no wind chill. I recently learned that when the weather people say “wind chill warning” it means that wind chill temperatures are hazardous to life within several minutes of exposure. That’s basically fancy terminology for “go the heck back inside or you’ll get frostbite everywhere”. Welcome to Canada; home of mounted police, hockey and temperatures that can eventually kill you. Despite this, winter is still awesome.

This happened on Wednesday and made me glee and make snow angels and pelt the neighbour kids with snowballs because they’re the only ones who can appreciate it like I do (despite the fact that there was five of them and one of me, and I lost horribly). That’s what makes me love winter so much. That childish feeling you get when snow starts to fall and it makes you think of hot chocolate and warmth and stuffing snow down your friends pants. Winter makes me remember that it’s perfectly okay to be a big kid sometimes. Even if it makes my mother roll her eyes.

I’m going outside now to make another snow angel simply because I can. Have fun, where ever your winter is.

A warm pair of mittens.

Alright. It’s time to discuss location. This is my province. It’s generally wonderful and it’s shaped like a rabbit which made it super easy to identify when I was seven and learning about my country. I might not have known the difference between Alberta, British Columbia and Saskatchewan but I sure as heck could tell you where New Brunswick was on a map. I remember my teacher being unimpressed with my enthusiasm about us being “the rabbit one”.

I’m proud of my province. I was born and raised here and I still haven’t left, despite my best efforts. I’m fluently bilingual and can transition between English and French without any trouble at all. Something that I wouldn’t be able to do if I hadn’t grown up here.

I’m telling you where I am (sort of) so you’ll know exactly where I mean when I show you what’s been happening outside my window.

Mother Nature has been having more hot-flashes this winter than normal. During the month of January, New Brunswick is usually covered in two feet of snow and it won’t melt away because of our -47 degree celsius wind chills. This January has been virtually snow-less and warm, so I was extremely excited to see the snow start to fall. I took those photos earlier this evening.

Outside now looks like this:

It’s only about half a foot, but it’s so nice to see Mother Nature finally get her Winter on. I’m one of the strange people who absolutely love the cold and snow, so please don’t hold this Winter-appreciation post against me. I’m considered weird, even among my fellow Canadians. They don’t like it either.