It's snowing again, and I'm snug in my little stone cottage watching the world pass by. I'm sitting here, snuggled in with The Boris on one side and Kicia on the other, Buddy snoring at my feet. I'm sipping my coffee (in a mega-mug purchased in a Starbucks in London) and pondering how many, if any, Christmas cards I'll get around to sending this year. I always start with good intentions, then life gets in the way. Each year I tell myself I have loads of time to do them, and each year, without fail, I
always find myself scrambling the weekend before Christmas. Vaughan Williams Tallis Fantasia is playing, and the snow is blowing past my big bay window in great billowing gusts. It is the perfect setting for writing my cards, and yet, and yet....
Oh, and in case you were wondering how my kids (and my nephew) enjoy a traditional Quebecois Christmas, just have a look. That's them, hanging out in the barn last year. (Yes, I got their permission to post these. They're such good sports, those elves.)
And many of you probably don't know I had quintuplets, all girls, all identical. They just love to dance.
