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Dear Diary,

It’s a Monday morning, and for the first time I didn’t have to rush I  out to go to work. I’m fine but I’m taking care of a little boy under the weather, from his weekend trip to the Halliburton Highlands for youth group. Recently I’ve been tossing the idea around of trying to find children of a similar age of mine to interact with, as we 45 minutes out of the city, And in the community we live in there’s very few options. Thank God our children have been brought up with wanting to be in our company, but as they transition into teenagers I’m noticing a shift in hormones and the need for Moms constant attention makes me sad. As I feel those years have gone in the blink of an eye, watching her sleep as if I’m looking at myself in cloned form.

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I smile as Sam Smith, too good at goodbyes comes on. This song represents the many people I’ve said goodbye to in my lifetime, a new chapter is blowing in as the temperature is changing. I’ve been Changing up the Decour a little, giving the rooms are fresh look as I await a few new and upcoming projects I hope to work on during my “staycation” in October. Are usually take my birthday off every single year, and I celebrate my life. It has become a joke in our house, I was back in the day parcels would start to arrive early on from different shipping companies. As if it was a countdown to Christmas, we laughed as it’s a countdown to Mitzi’s birthday. I’ve never explained to him the purpose behind the importance of celebrating my birthday. I’m going to tell you why right now.

There’s very few birthdays I can remember celebrating when my parents were married and my brother and I were small. I do remember one birthday where I was grounded from doing something bad, and I was told my birthday party was canceled. I cried that morning as my mom took me to Safeway to pick up something for supper. Arriving back at home I can remember The orange tattered couch which face the opposite way. Surprise the girls yelled and jumped out from behind the couch, I felt special as if it was really true that they forgive me for whatever I did. But honestly open to the age of nine years old I don’t remember much about my dad or my mom celebrating who I was, Isn’t that where the birthday is a celebration of life? Why are we celebrating ourselves while we are alive? I’ve watched people die in front of me and take their last breath’s, my heart broke when my mom died. I’ve been rebuilding a love ever since.

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During the shift of the seasons, I know my seasonal affective disorder will kick in which means I have to work stronger to make sure I don’t get sucked in by the lack of sunshine and a long winter ahead. Cabin fever tends to kick in usually in November and can last until May. That is why I am bark on little adventures and journeys to help keep the love and life alive until the rainbows returns in the spring.

I can remember how sad I was as my birthday has come and gone and my dad had forgot to call me, when he really shouldn’t of! He was basically the last to lean on for any help, help I didn’t get. Help I deserved , that is why I celebrate my birthday. I can still remember when I was turning 21, and the lotto super seven was 21 million, and October 29 fell on a Friday. I bought $10 for the tickets that night in hopes that would be my lucky birthday.

I find life quite fascinating and with the highs and the lows I can always count on an amazing October, full of pumpkins, fall festivals , the change is colour of the trees, the aroma of my first fire in the grande fireplace accompanied by thanksgiving blessings and birthday cheer. I’m not sure what this birthday holds, but I know one thing… I’m getting older, wiser and a little more crazier in love with who I am and the message I spread.

Be Happy, Be Kind. Tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone …. ☕️

Categories: Uncategorized

Welcome To My Story

Cannabis Enthusiast : Craft Edible Creator : Recreation and Leisure Professional : Blogger
A Craft Edible Experience

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