… November is my least favourite month of the year. If it happens to be when you celebrate your birthday or anniversary or any other occasion that’s important to you, please don’t take it personally. My distaste for November has nothing to do with you.
I don’t like it because it’s dreary. Dull. Sure, there’s the odd sunny day, but mostly it’s grey and damp and dismal. The days get shorter. It gets dark earlier. Piles of leaves cover the roads and sidewalks and Continue reading
I’ve never been a winter enthusiast, but over the last several years, I’ve started to embrace the changing seasons and have stopped kvetching about snow and colder temperatures.
Well, I’m here to tell you that my honeymoon with winter is now over.
Last Fall it was predicted that we would have a brutal winter this year. Long, very cold and lots of snow.
For a while, I thought Mother Nature was going to prove them wrong. November and December came and Continue reading
“How do I know?” you ask. Well, last Thursday night I went out for dinner. Hadn’t been out all day so I
assumed it was as hot as it’s been pretty much all summer. Wrong. When we got to the restaurant and were offered a table on the terrace we both decided it was way too cool.
Before you say anything let me cut you off: Yeah, I know one evening does not the end of summer make. But it was September 1 and we all know what that means.
The leaves will soon start changing colour, the days will get progressively cooler and shorter, pumpkin pie mix will Continue reading
Yes, I’m superstitious. And that’s why I try to be careful about making predictions. Prognosticating. Assuming. Planning ahead. Counting my chickens. Because the last thing I want to do is jinx 
myself. Put a hex on things. You know. Screw things up. And then curse myself forever and a day for having such a big mouth, for blowing it.
So let’s just say the signs are all pointing in the right direction.
Saturday, while I was out and about, I could see that restaurants and cafes had their terraces open; and, people were out there, enjoying the weather. The streets were packed. Old folks, Continue reading
Considering this has been one of the coldest winters (and snowiest in some parts of the world) in history I can hardly believe 
I’m saying this: I was shocked the other day to read we have to change the clocks again next week, March 8 to be precise. So soon?
Where’s the winter gone? Oh, I know there are a lot of you reading this who think I’ve lost my mind. Especially those who live in Boston and may not see pavement again until June or July. If you’re lucky.
Let me clarify. It seems to me it was always later in the season when we did this. You know, move the clocks ahead. Spring forward. Fall back, spring forward? Continue reading
Last Thursday morning when I returned home, from the market, they were mowing our front lawn. Yes, even though I live right in the heart of the city, in an 
apartment, we’re lucky enough to have lots of green, with both a large front and back garden. No concrete jungle here. We’re surrounded by lots of beautiful old homes, on gorgeous tree-lined streets.
Anyway, I LOVE the smell of freshly mowed grass. Always have, even when I was a child. It’s especially fragrant after it’s rained. No rain the other day.
But the scent was still so intoxicating I just had to stop in the middle of the driveway and inhale several times, breathing it all in, before making my way indoors. If I hadn’t been afraid the gardener would think I was completely out of my mind, I would have scooped up a handful and brought it upstairs with me.
Then I could have sat on my balcony, watching the world go by, sniffing away to my heart’s content.
In that instant I knew summer was well and truly here. Because to me, nothing says “summer” like the scent of just cut grass. Well that’s not quite true. This morning, as I made my way from my bedroom to the kitchen I seemed to walk right into a
I woke up yesterday morning with a terrible case of Spring fever. Hit me suddenly, too. Could be because it was so bright and sunny, so early in the morning (must have been my mother’s doing. She passed February 26, 2007, but she was clearly being her usual, cheerful self, sending me a message and saying “Hi”).
Not a cloud
in the almost over-saturated, beautiful, blue sky.
Could also have been the influence of my two cats, who were far more ‘lively’ than they’ve been in a while. Full, and I mean full, of piss and vinegar. As if they’d just woken up after a long, deep sleep. Chirping at me, jumping on and off the bed. On. Off. On. Off. Dancing on my head. Butting noses with me. Purring madly.
As if to say, “Come on, mommy. Get up. Get up. Get up. Time to drag your sorry ass out of bed! Look outside. It’s Spring!!!”
Whoa!!! Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
But I have to admit, I felt it too. I had more energy, myself. And it was a ‘different’ kind of energy. It wasn’t the Continue reading
It’s freaking me out. It was just summer. Next thing I knew it was Christmas. It seemed to show up so quickly. I was totally unprepared. Christmas? It was just Thanksgiving. In a blink we’d crossed 
over into a new year.
2012 had come and gone while, to me, it felt as if it was just getting started.
Now it’s virtually the end of January. In just a few days we’ll be in the second month of the new year. And it will be spring a month later. Winter will be behind us. And yet technically, it’s still ahead of us.
But as I say it, we get that much closer to the end of it.
Summer will be upon us, before we’ve had a chance to enjoy the tulips and daffodils. Before we have a chance to catch our breath. Regain some equilibrium. To recover from the cold. To shake the snow off ourselves, one last Continue reading
Can’t deny it any longer. There has been a pretty dramatic change in the temperature. And it is damn cold out there. After a summer of mid- 
thirty degree weather (mid-nineties) practically everyday, I am getting up every morning now, to temperatures that hover around the 8 degree (48) mark. And it’s not been getting much past 12 (56), even at midday.
So like it or not, it’s time to put the summer clothes away. No more sandals. No more bare legs. No more lightweight, summer dresses. No more jeans and T-shirts. No more cropped pants. No more straw hats and canvas summer bags.
I finally had to give in the other day, and grab a shawl to wrap up in. I love this shawl, actually. It’s black, fringed, and queen-sized bed, size. It’s a blanket and an evening wrap. Doubled it’s really, really warm. If I leave it as is, it’s so big I can wrap myself up in it, like Continue reading
I don’t know what it is. But lately there never seems to be enough time in the day for me to get everything done. And I’m not talking about chores. I mean work. 
Writing. I don’t know where the day goes. I don’t know where the week goes. For that matter, I don’t know where the summer’s gone. Or the years.
No matter how early I get up (and I set my alarm for 7 a.m. every day), by the time I’ve fed my cats, done litter box duty, showered and fed myself (while reading the newspaper, so I don’t waste more time), it feels like half the day’s gone. It isn’t really, but it’s damn close. On those days when I have a client meeting, that’s it. A glance at my watch tells me it’s 3:00 or 4:00 o’clock. I may not even have had lunch yet. And yet, the day is pretty much over. Time to maybe pick up some groceries and head home. To work.
While I may not have meetings every day, I still have work to do for clients. Writing their websites. Their blogs. Thinking about marketing plans. What comes next. How our campaigns are working so far. Briefing photographers or designers. There’s always something. So again, when I look at my watch it’s late afternoon. And again I may not yet have had lunch. And I haven’t written either of my blogs. Or worked on my book. Or been on the hunt for new business.
Why does it feel like I’m always behind the 8ball?
Maybe I’m deluding myself when I say I don’t think I’m a time waster. But I really don’t think I am. I’m on it.
My time crunch is considerably worse since I’ve added this blog to my repertoire. I now have a commitment to write something each and every day. I love doing it. Continue reading
365 And Counting 