Number 4

There are some things I will miss from our life here: my dad's impromptu visits for a cup of coffee, my mom coming over to give me a hand for a few hours and almost always staying for dinner even if she said she wouldn't, a surprise visit to Mémé (my grandma) who lives right beside the library, the way the light filtered through the stained glass window at the piano teacher's house while I read a book and let my soul be filled with music, our boardgame nights (that were much more than that) and his sushis, of course. But there isn't one thing that makes my heart sank as much as thinking I won't be around for the arrival of number 4.

And I pray that our kids will dig each other as much as they do now when they meet again, on the verge of teenagehood...

Happiness is...

Happiness is sitting around a bonfire at night with friends, and fresh spring rolls, and spilled wine, and funny stories, and a walk back home in the dark.

Simply grateful

I was grateful for this place, these people. I tried not to think too much of how different our life will be once we won't have them as neighbours anymore.

Perfect Sunday night

There were baby birds trying on their new voices, perfect black bean burgers and sweet potatoe fries eaten in paradise, bare feet and bug bites. And lingering over dinner talking about bus living and house building. The perfect Sunday night.

The making of memories

She was so nervous before the concert. In the dark hall, she came and put her head on her dad's shoulder and sobbed. He chose the perfect words. I knew that this was a memory she would someday pull out and share.

He's back

We’re so glad he’s back. It never feels quite right without him here.

Growing up

Ten years old and she's already borrowing my t-shirts and socks. When did all that growing up happened?