Author - caroline

1
Come fly away
2
Little things – A charming charade
3
Walk on the sunny side
4
How to combat S.A.D. (Seasonal Angst and Distress)
5
Home again, home again…
6
Little things – Ice dream
7
The dance
1
Come fly away
2
Little things – A charming charade
3
Walk on the sunny side
4
How to combat S.A.D. (Seasonal Angst and Distress)
5
Home again, home again…
6
Little things – Ice dream
7
The dance

Come fly away

I stumbled upon a woman on Instagram who had recently dropped her youngest off at college and was now packing for a weekend getaway with her hubby. I thought, “You go, Girl!” I mean really, isn’t this the perfect time? Read More

Walk on the sunny side

The frigid temperatures in winter, the heat and humidity of summer, traffic jams, snarky people, dirty dishes piled in the sink. There are so many things that can trigger a black mood faster than you can flip a switch.

What do you do when that dark cloud starts sliding into your consciousness? Do you do everything Read More

How to combat S.A.D. (Seasonal Angst and Distress)

It usually hits us around mid-December. Call it the Christmas Crazies or Holiday Madness, whatever you like, but at its most basic it’s simply stress, with a capital S-T-R-E-S and S.

And then the day of — yowza! You know the scene: the turkey’s in the oven, presents are wrapped and under the tree, the fire is Read More

Home again, home again…

So, you’ve finally made the shift from Mom to me. Adjusting to not being a full time parent is hard. You feel a little demoted. You are no longer the centre of his universe. You’re still Mom, but in title only, almost. Still, you understand, or at least, are trying to. And then, he returns. Whether he’s home for the holidays, or until he finds has own place, whatever    Read More

Little things – Ice dream

Many things in life bring a smile to my face, but few create such a rich kaleidoscope of images as the sound of skates on ice. The raspy, fluid sound of the blades, as they carve into the surface of the ice on a cold winter’s night. Etched in my mind, Read More

The dance

Abit of creative writing…

She stepped off the bus, partially consumed by the exhaust dense in the frigid night air.  She was stocky and squat, almost square, her actual shape concealed under a heavy coat.   A thick wool scarf knotted at her neck.  A hat pulled low, fur ear flaps resting on her Read More

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