In The Cat Cave

Saturday. It was a gorgeous day. But we were inside all day.

As my 5 year old daughter Jane said "It's a beautiful day to be sick Mommy."
The glass is half full, right?

My album is coming together - each new day has a title page. This day has two 8.5x11" pages back to back and two 6x8.5" pages.


"Saturday morning arrived sooner than I wanted it to.  Jane (5) and I slept together but sleep wasn’t a great luxury we had. She was sick too many times to count.  I would hear her and scoop her head to the side of the bed. She would continue for the rest of the day like that with exception to about 20 minutes when she rose off the couch to try on her dance costume and pose for a picture.  Jane is a trooper.  Not that a person can be good at being sick.. but if you could, she would be.

The sun was shining, which was great since I was washing every quilt and linen in the house. I love seeing the colourful quilts on the line.  The fresh smell. Yes. I love that too. Ryan was coaching and playing soccer for most of the day today so it was me and Jack (3)  against the germs.  Determined to win, I practically bathed in hand sanitizer and ran around with  containers of Lysol wipes.

Since my Saturday plans changed, I thought it would be a good idea to make a large pot of soup.  All day I threw different things in.  I think I had 4 bowls of soup.  I will admit that at 8:30 I sat down with a McDonalds big Mac and enjoyed every moment. So there.

Jack and I played with sand, play doh, a memory game, the Guess Who game, and the list goes on.   Soon it was night time and I was glad to have my husband back before I fell asleep.

Good night Saturday."


"This water bottle.  I bought it years ago.  It’s glass and dishwasher safe. It has a wide mouth for big gulps. It makes me happy because I know that its clean unlike many of those plastic containers.  And I don’t have to slurp to get water out.  I remember buying it at an atrocious price but it was calling my name.  So. Worth. It."

"Let me just add that this photo is incredibly imperfect.  My nails. Oh. My. Nails.  But that’s me.  And it’s real life.  I get my nails done and 2 hours later they are a mess.  A hot mess. Like me.  Perfectly imperfect. I don’t really strive to be perfect. It makes me tired just thinking about it.  But I do try to be happy - I make a point of it actually.  I want to be happy.  So I craft.  So I plan.  So I buy overpriced waterbottles that bring me joy.  These nails are beautifully imperfect painted by my mother in law on Mother's Day - I wouldn’t want to be any other way."