The length of dark days and the darkness of long days

Last night, warm, wild breezes, rattle the house gales. Still up at 1 am, sewing away. The puppies like to sit on my feet, I am the queen of the puppies . They inadvertently push the sewing machine foot when they stretch, causing unexpected results.The woodstove crackling, the breathing of all my most loved humans asleep, murmuring, turning. Whenever the night gets dark and long, and my brain sidles up to the shadows, Max, our Labernese, always seems to wake and come lay his head on my lap. Almost always…its uncanny.

Today the power was out all morning, not helpful when one has a backlog of purses to finish for a show you are setting up tomorrow (Come check us out at the Sugar Plum Fair at Nottawasaga Resort in Alliston this weekend). Its hunting season and its driving the dogs (6, count them, six) nuts. A thousand details to attend to, a show to hang at the Espresso Post (Happy Birthday to lovely owner Christene and so many thanks to lovely owner Mark for his time) so…afternoon meltdown.

But then…

First snowfall . First puppies discover the snow. First …boy running and laughing in the darkness, the white flakes dancing in the light of our “moon” (a spotlight in our backyard). First…husband in a toque grinning like a kid because the night and the snow and everything is just right. Because the trampoline is still up, and nights weightlessly jumping in the dark, with snow in your eyelashes, with the dog bouncing alongside and the boy giggling in breathless happiness and the puppies making tracks are singularly magical.

And whatever you think is a priority, is never a priority over this.:)

 

 

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