We had a photo shoot

all photos were taken by Zekar Photography...and you can find them if you click thru the link

signed, the willow

:( Facing our Realities

The past few years have been tough.  I cannot lie.  Releasing my truths to the Universe has always set me free.  Welcome to my blog, Universe.  Er, Internet.

Life doesn't get easier and we all know that we'll face death of a pet, a grandmother, or a parent of a childhood friend.  It happens.  Living in the moment and accepting the fact that it's okay to be sad, it's okay to cry, and it's okay to accept mortality - is life.

So, have a belly laugh.  Love your mother, your father, your children, your pets, your spouse, your friends.  Love the air you breathe. Love the steps you take.  Whether you take the steps outside for a run, or inside your head for a new challenge.  Love the steps.

and now for a belly laugh....

signed, the willow

The next dog will have a tail that hangs down

So, I'm about to tell you a rather embarrassing story.  

Let's begin with a diagram:

The dog was hanging around mooching chips from *Mila* with her big puffy tail in front of me.  I had to get up to squeeze some more food down my gullet, so I attempted to move the dog towards the potato chips and out of my way.  

This is where you can run and grab some anti-bacterial gel.  As I leaned forward on the laptop and reached around with my right hand, my index finger was inserted directly in Suma's chocolate starfish.  Her rusty bullet hole.  The dog's brown eye.  Rusty's rusty sherriff badge.  The on-ramp for the Hershey hi-way.  

Get the picture?

And where was *Steve*? Laughing of course.  Is he the only one in the family that hasn't stuck his finger up the dog's butt?

signed, the willow

Oddly Quiet

Tonight (because it's so dark out) This Afternoon the house is oddly quiet.  It's never this quiet.  *Mila* is quietly drawing, colouring, writing, and I'm typing with the tv on mute.  It's nice.  I love being together just doing all sorts of quiet things.

Next week, this will change.  We're taking a turn in our lives.  The only one sacrificing will be *Mila*.  For the past 7 years, I've been there to pick her up from school and take care of her every need.  For 7 years.  Some mothers have been working since their babies were 7 months old, or even 7 weeks old.  We've been lucky and we've tried to provide her with the best push start into the world that we could.  But it's my turn to contribute and make up for lost time lost dollars.

It will be fine.  Tell me it will be okay.

signed, the willow

My Attention Span is Waning

When this blog began, I wrote.  The odd photo appeared as a novelty:  from my own collection, my family, my own imagination.  Then, something changed.  (My lifestyle, most likely.)  I began to morph into so many other blogs out there.  Post a picture and write a caption. Copy. Paste.  Repeat.

Then *Steve* came home this week with a printed copy of my blog.  It was contained in a very large 3-ring binder and *Mila* and I began to pour through.  Some memories ruffled my feathers.  How could I be so silly to worry about all the menial things I worried about.  No excuse.  Somewhere in my journey of copy and paste (and that crazy life), I became grateful.  Time was again on my side.  I met some wonderful people that were very supportive and recognized many others who had been for quite some time, and yet I had not realized this.  

So, back to the big book of blog.  Like Elaine's big salad.  (right here I was suctioned into the world of Seinfeld only to re-emerge 20 minutes later), I realized how much substance I was adding.  An expression of myself, as pathetic as that may seem to some.  It was my outlet when I wanted to scream.  It went away when I channeled my energy onto a window display, a 6 mile run, P90X, or raising my child.  Then *Steve* put it to me quite bluntly, "You used to write.  You don't do that anymore."  Why?  My attention span was waning as was the rest of the world's.  I found that one paragraph was enough to read.  So, why would someone want to read more than one paragraph?  I'm taking the time again.  For me. Maybe I can paint, or document to some degree, write a tad, photo-journalize my life, blog it, print it, and take time to read it and ENJOY IT.

And now for something completely different.

Little Red SumaDog. 

Twinkie sitting there waiting for some love or bunny crack, which would be this stuff.

You can be sure that this story doesn't have an end.  Only had a brief rest period from the prose and written jargon.  As The Terminator once said "I'll be back".  And, he did come back for Terminator 2  and Terminator 3.  That's for you *Steve* ;)

signed, the willow

Webster's & Tew's

The Falls

Websters Falls

The witch's hut

Dundas Valley

And right here our fun changed.  As we walked closer to Tew's Falls, we encountered two dogs.  Both wet and both off leash.  Suma was on leash.  So, these two moronic wet dogs (one springer spaniel, one a black lab) decided it would be fun to tease the dog on leash and get her p'd and make her tangle her leash around her kid, *mila*.  Normally I would tsk the owners and move on my way saying "Oh, don't worry.  We're okay."  Because, we were okay.  Really okay.  But what wasn't okay was that a little kid of about 2 years old was on a small narrow bridge, with no railings.  He could have been easily knocked over by the chaotic mutt and mutt that were chasing my on-leash dog.  The mother of the boy started to yell at the child, blaming him for wandering out in front of me and he could have been knocked into the creek by me.  Wait a second.  I think it's the dogs that you have to worry about.  Not the responsible mother walking with her daughter carefully across the bridge with her LEASHED dog.  So, I approached a few of these sheepish people that sat on the bridge.  Each one didn't know who owned the dog.  Weren't they together?  They all sat so intimately on this tiny bridge.  There had to be a dozen of them.  Finally, I found the owners and asked them to kindly leash their dogs as someone is going to get hurt.  

Then I felt guilty.  And then I had no more oomph.  It was time to go home.

But first, let's look at the falls....

Tew's Falls

gratuitous tree shot at Tew's Falls





signed, the willow

Walk with me in the park

So, my dear, wonderful, and very kind husband has complained that I don't tell enough story on my blog.  So, once a week, I'll give him a little anecdote and that should shut him up.

Take a walk with me in my neighbourhood park (or bike trail).  Please excuse my photos taken on my phone.

Aren't the willows on my walk just fantastic?

Have you met my poor old girl, Suma?  Isn't she sweet?  She generally can't walk very far any more.  But she did 6 km with me this day.  It was a bit of scorcher too.

Here we go again.  She needs to sniff every single blade of grass on our way there and back home.

The city has these great new benches on the trail.   I think this one says "Kiss again....the stars in your eyes will be glowing brighter".  There are more, but it's really rather awkward taking photos of them when people are sitting on them.  I stood by the bench opposite this one for a minute waiting for an elderly gentleman to pass.  Instead he stopped and sat on it.  So, I'll have to sneak out earlier with the camera and take some better photos.

Lastly, after school, I picked up my little *mila* monkey and she wanted a photo of her lying in this tree.  Because she's so pensive and laid back, don't you know?  *sarcasm* goes here.

signed, the willow

Four Hundred and Ninety Nine

Today is just one post away from 500.  So, I wanted to leave you with a 5 year old can do with a camera!

signed, the willow

Christmas with the Griswolds

Christmas Eve we spent some time with the normal side of the Griswold family.  Electronics topped their list this year.

It was insisted by *Mila* to open her traditional Christmas Eve present.  Her tradition began this year!

All the dogs waited in hopes that there would be something delicious or edible inside.

But there was not.  Was there Sonny?

The next morning we awoke at 5 a.m. to begin the furor of Christmas. See *Steve* below:

Here  is the furor:

And here is the materialistic smile:

The whole day was an amusement to her.  I wish every day felt as good as this.

signed, the willow