Friday's love list

Meg has asked, and she will receive:

Song you love: Well, right now, it's all things Christmas.

Food you love: Queen Anne's chocolate covered cherries (very cheap, very sugary, talk about a head rush)

Thing you love to look at: everything through the lens of my camera. It helps me find the beauty in the everyday.

Sound you love: laughter, particularly children's laughter, especially when you can't see them (like they're in a back yard). There's something special about that.

Thing you love to laugh at: Any body's jokes and Just for Laughs specials.

Gadget you love: My KitchenAid mixer the Mothership bought me when I was single again.

Person you love: Sparky

Software you love: That which runs my digital camera

Word you love: Love. When I worked in a library back in New Brunswick, oh so many years ago, there was a patron by the name of Kevin Love. I thought "wouldn't it be great to be known as Mrs. Love?"

Thing you love on the internet: other people's blogs

Place you love to go on vacation: Wainwright, Alberta, Greece, Nova Scotia, maybe PEI too

Sensation you love: Touch

Animal you love: Voles.

Book you love: Betty Crocker Cookbook circa 1954

Emotion you love: Happiness

Occasion you love: my children coming home

Quality you love in people: compassion, honesty, politeness, trustworthiness

Thing you most love to shop for: paper

And finally…

What you love about today: I got to see Shelagh Rogers on Sounds Like Canada and child-unit 4 got a shout out on national radio!

Grey mornings, grey days

It's snowing outside. Soft fluffy flakes. I love days like this. From my place in our study/computer room, if I lean back, I can see out the kitchen window watching the lazy decent of these delicious flakes. I'm hoping for big storms this year. Ones that close schools, block satellite reception, force people home.

I have such a strong memory of my Mom and me going out one evening, during a white-out type snow storm, walking to our local book store (who was still open!) to pick up a book that'd come in for her. I remember the car that fish-tailed behind us, honky in surprise, at the two figures walking in the middle of the road because the sidewalks hadn't been cleared yet.

I can't say that stores are going to stay open late for me and my daughters to ever do that again (that was the benefit of living in a smaller community). I'd like the opportunity to see if one would though, even if it's just Seven-Eleven.

Still working on stupid

Jonathan posted the challenge word last Friday. Stupidity. Good gawd, I think I could write a novel on the subject, but then most people could. Mine would be full of self-deprecation, but then most people's would too.

So, I'm just going to touch on a point that Steph commented about in her entry for BlogFriday: "Love makes you stupid." Eh-men (sic) to that!

When I married my life-spark, I got stupid, and it's a good thing. My stupidity has to do with learning to let go and trust again. I learned that I didn't have to control every spec of dust that was going to fall on the shelf. I didn't have to control the child-units' every move. I didn't have to be completely responsible for household management. I could share the load.

I got stupid and I love it.

I stopped needing to know how to adjust the VCR timer every time the thing got reset. I stopped needing to know how to sort out all the laundry into proper piles so that everything is not an Orwellian shade of grey. I stopped and let the care and affection of a really nice guy come in and take the place of a whole lot of hurt.

My stupidity means I'm healing.

I like that.

Thanks Jonathan for helping me remember that stupidity can be a good thing.

Where has this weekend gone?

Just finished doing my rounds of other people's blogs, catching up with their lives. Wish I could catch up with mine. Even though I've been off for the last 10 months being the primary care giver to CU-4, I feel like I'm still in the rhythm of my regular work week. Weekends come and there's just a different pace.

Saturday's are the usual run about to get at least one child to his/her event (this week was child-lite week, so there was just the one CU to run), though we did do a collective viewing of all the CUs, merely by chance. CU-1 was at his art class (hell has frozen over! and DXH takes him to this event at least), where I dropped off some Ginger Sparkler cookies that I said I'd make. CU-2 was a the drug store with DXH, where I was doing a drug run for our sickly CU-4.

It's been a rough week for him. Flu shot seems to have some back-kick to it as he's got heavy flu-like symptoms. However, I'm not sure that he's got the flu. He's also got some big chompers coming down. Oh, and let's not forget about the bout of suspected Pink Eye we were treating him for. On top of that, there seemed to be a scheduled growth spurt that couldn't be put off. Poor guy.

Around him, DH has been working on putting house bits back together. I've been working at hauling out stuff from the basement. Having finally realized that we will probably have a winter this year, I've changed the direction of my garden puttering to decorating for the winter season. I'm known, in my neighborhood, as being the wack-job who puts up a lot of lights and different decorations for the change of seasons.
Thankfully, I'm not alone.

There's a fellow who keeps an immaculate yard just across from the English-speaking church we go to byweekly. He though does seasonal changes that are a bit over the top. But nothing is on the ground - it's all higher up, around his fence and windows.

There's a lady down our street who also inspires me. Her genre is with dolls and stuffed animals.

I was out last Saturday, before the snow fell, trying to get some lights up. This year we have a Fesitivus pole for DH, a lighted landing spot for Pere Noel, closer to the house this year, in addition to the polar bear, plastic candles and lanterns, plus the lights, of course.

Yesterday, I put up the oversized candy canes in our trees and replanted the candles that keep blowing down. I went out with the Mothership who's going through a late-life house-fashion crisis (wants to modernize her condo a bit, much to the chagrin of Dad who likes the furniture he's had for the last 25 years. Ugh.) So we rolled out late yesterday afternoon heading towards the likes of Sofa World (which felt more like Sofa Neighborhood), and Rona to look at light fixtures and door knobs. (Her doorknobs are dowdy too.)

Rona was my downfall. They were having an LED light sale. I couldn't help myself ... At least I didn't buy another electrical source stump ('cause I know we have another one some where in the house! I just have to find it.)

So, now it's Sunday afternoon. I'm writing this, listening to The Vinyl Café, thinking about how to string the next 300 feet of lights ...

* * *

This is what one side of the house looked like at dusk. It's still not done. I need one more extension cord I think, and I've moved some things around (illuminated candy canes because they were behaving badly) already. I'd like to move the set of lights over in the tree (left hand bent light section), but I need CU-1 to be home for that.

BlogFriday post: The XXX version

So I was out at the local tavern with all CUs in tow having a plate of wings with a good neighbor/friend and his posse. Having just had a birthday, and having received a glorious jar of olives for my birthday, I wanted to get another man's perspective on gift giving.

The conversation took a few twists and turns, and finally, I asked the all important question - what's your best birthday present ever? My supper companion, without missing a beat says "sex".

Um, Ok. After checking the kids' animated faces, I realized they were well engaged in their own distracting conversations.

My DH, who'd joined us by that time, became engaged in the conversation. So, here I was, stuck between two guys, talking about their favorite past-time, after hockey and basketball, of course.

I let them prattle on while I thought of my own efforts to support martial bliss. Four children can take the life-blood out of a couple. The efforts I/we (DH and I) spend trying to break up fights, find lost items (that should have been put away in the CUs locker or storage box in the first place!), hound for incomplete homework, plus trying to take care of the other detritus around running the house is work. By the time 11 o'clock rolls around, I'm tired. I'm usually sick too. The most I can do is sidle up next to my life-spark and try to get HIM warm (he's got notoriously cold feet) while trying to squeeze out a few minutes of restful sleep. Thus, extra fun just doesn't come into play.

But, now I prattle - onto the good stuff. I've been reading a book called Sex lives of wives : reigniting the passion by Holly H. Hollenbeck. Actually skimming because unless something has a lot of pictures these days, I don't have the brain cells to absorb much. (By the way, this book doesn't have pictures.)

Having made it through a couple of chapters, I finally get to a part that actually describes what overworked/over scheduled women can do to reignite the passion in their mates. The "Passion Seekers", a club of women that met to discuss passion and on whose experiences and discussions the book is based, came up with an idea: treat your mate's privates like you do you pet. Ok. I'm willing to try.
Now, we've got three cats and a hamster. The cats usually look after the care of the hamster, so you see where things go in this house.

If I treat DH's privates like I do our cats, this is what it would sound like:

"Quit nagging me!"

"No, you can't have more treats!"

"Really. You've had enough. Now go away."

There's also the strong possibility that DH would find himself on the other side of the bedroom door because his purring is too loud.

Maybe I should read into the next chapter ...

Vive le vent, vive le vent, vive le vent de neige

I think I got the lyrics right.

Today's our first snow fall. 2-4 cms to fall today, followed by ice pellets, followed by 2-4 more cms of snow tonight, and then another 7-9 tomorrow.

Groovy.

I've dug out the older child-units' boots, snow pants and coats from last year. Thank small gods they didn't grow that much - though, CU-2 s-q-u-e-e-z-e-d into last year's pants (skin-tight puffy snow pants ARE a sight to be seen), and CU-1's are floods (terrific to look at when there are white socks involved).

CU-3 got some new duds from VVs (Value Village), so everything is right with the world there. CU-4 ... well ... he's not happy being cold so, even though he's got a snow cover, his hands and feet stick out. Mittens and boots ARE NOT satisfactory, so I've put him into CU-3's back-up - the MEC "Toaster suit". And OMG is it. Usually, you put in a nice, dry kid into this thing. They come out hot and toasty, though a bit moist from the condensation build up from their effort of play.

Guess I'll try again with another combo for CU-4, and hope that DXH kicks in with his shopping spree this weekend to get the older children clothes that actually fit.

The children were quite excited by the change of weather. They see it as an opportunity to go out and play. Now that construction has been complete, and we have a terrific window to the North of our house, facing into the yard, I say "YES! Do go out and play after supper." We only needed the snow to fulfill this need. Here's hoping it's a big, dry snow winter.

Mama wants to go out and play too!

Viva Las Vegas

So, the latest ... the children are going to Sin City for Christmas. Just what every pre-teen needs eh?

***

It's been a rough couple of days with hormones flying and wills being tested. I swear I'm not sure how I'm going to muster the patiences to make it through the next 20 years of child rearing. I'm already loosing it much too frequently for my liking. This is not the example I wanted to show my children.

I've been thinking about other blogs that I scope out on a regular basis - Jonathan who's looking to get his gaggle of kids shortly, Wrecking Crew who's got three boys, Editor who's almost through the teenage years and embarking on the last big push for her WonderBoy before he flies. They're getting through their issues. Mine seem minor compared. But their mine.

And I'm just a bit sad.

Ok ok I'll try to find something nice to talk about

Well, that was the idea anyway, until my DH handed me a steaming cup of NeoCitrine because I had sympathy symptoms after reading Wrecking Crew's Sunday and Monday. Now, barely able to type ... whine whine whine, ah, that's more like it!

No really. Things have been quite quiet at my end of things for a couple of weeks. The creative juices have been being fed from the bi-weekly salons we've been holding under the guise of "Pizza night" - a party we hold every second Friday when the older child units return from the weekly adventures in the parallel universe.

I've been trying to teach myself The Gimp because I want to make up some marketing materials for my special side distraction. I've not been trying super hard though, as CU-4, also known as CU the last, has become mobile.

CU-4 has got to be the fastest of the four. He can make it from the kitchen, around the front room (double parlor), through our master bedroom, into the a joining bathroom to lift the toilet seat and check the temperature (yup, same as the powder room toilet!) before I can figure out that he's no longer improving his vocabulary by eating pages from the dictionary.

He's a busy guy, as seen here, he's taken on his DF's role of watching the street for any wayward strangers or lurkers. (I think I've got to get him a old cardigan too so that he can sit on the porch with his dear pa and yell at the kids whose baseball falls into our yard!)

Sigh. Like father, like sons.

Danger and annoyance

Drat! I thought too long and missed the deadline for the BlogFriday entry.

Last week's word was danger. This weeks word is annoyance. I think that I am annoyed with myself for overthinking the word danger.

The first thing that came to mind (like an ear worm) was a nagging reference to a cartoon character that I vaguely remember, something like Danger Rick. I think he was a raccoon. I could be wrong about it all though. I've been known to be wrong before! (But only once! ;-)

When I was able to sweep aside the ides of the raccoon named Rick, I was thinking about pedagogy of words in general and how flippantly people use them. No thought. There's a danger in that.

For example, while visiting some great friends yesterday, my friend was comforting her dog who was afraid of some loud noises emanating from the basement. While she soothed the pup with there-there's she also told him "don't cry". I kept thinking "why not?" The dog was scared. Why would you tell him to not express himself?

After coming out of a 10 year abusive relationship where things like showing any other emotion besides happiness was punished in some way, I've opted to speak out to those around me to give them permission to give themselves permission (follow that logic now). Two people whom I love dearly are still within the circle of influence of this negative model. When I see them I offer them a place to feel their emotions to the fullest - anger, sadness, fear. There's no danger here to cry. There's no scowling or displays of annoyance or fridgidness or withdrawal to be mad about injustices perceived or real. It's all real.

Happy November 1st, well, not any more

That's about as much enthusiasm as I can muster today.

Er, that was supposed to be yesterday's entry.

Yesterday I had many problems. Today I have the same problems, but it's a day later, and I'm hoping I've matured a bit.

Yesterday I had extreme small children/life-induced fatigue. Last night I got a pretty good deal - I sleep, DH gets up with any one who needs an escort to the bathroom/cuddle during the night. And I slept and dreamed. Weird dreams. But it was sleep.

My problems are in better perspective today. Maybe.

Today's problems are more carriable: discombobulated barrier near my kids school, insurance claims (standard in our house - not a week goes by without one going in), coming up with a good entry for BlogFriday, the GST rebate claim that STILL needs to be started (that I have two years before the deadline expires means my mojo isn't moving), laundry, self-pity, you know, yada yada - the norm. The difference is that maybe I won't have a hair-trigger explosion reaction to everything today. (Yesterday I was like a Pinto in a crash-up derby.)

As I tell my children when we get into a particularly bad mash up "tomorrow is another day". Seeing that tomorrow is now today, I'm going to try to embrace all that makes my day today and try to find something good in it. (Yah, it's a wee Pollyannaish, but I'm t-r-y-i-n-g.)

Party on, dudette

Well, it's been a hell of a party and there are no current signs of abating. Lack of sleep and CU-4's very wonky sleep pattern (It's 2 a.m. and I'm UP! Oh. It's now 3:15 a.m. and I'm UP! Oh, look the kitty waaaants to have his ears pulled, and it's 4:10 a.m. why not? I'm UP!)

As the rotten cycle goes - I get tired and think - "Oh food is a fast pick-me up to give me the energy I need to make it through just long enough to put CU-4 down for a nap!". So I eat. I put him down for his nap, then, in the fog-induced state, think - I haven't had breakfast/lunch/a real meal ... and the circle of life spins out of control, and I rock on.

Lately, in order to distract myself from my current state, I've been trying to bake - not necessarily all that successfully, I might add. The worst of it happened yesterday when I was painting on the last finger nail to four dozen Witches' Finger cookies.


Bea-utes aren't they? Well, this is batch two. Batch one looked just as good or better when IT happened. The cookie sheet with ALL THE FINGERS slid - CRASH! BOOM! onto the floor. Not even the most expert surgeon would have been able to put these digits back together.

These babies went to school today. I was super grossed out by them. We'll see how CU-3's crew takes them.

Happy Hallowe'en eve!

Opinions

Yesterday night, while at ball hockey with CU-1, I got tapped on the shoulder and was asked to participate in a focus group regarding health and safety of our kids at home, at school and withing the neighborhood and community.

I thought this was a rather obtuse topic to deal with within the confines of 40 minutes. I was also surprised that they had to recruit parents at a ball hockey night to get opinions. Why was there no advertising about this anywhere in the community prior to the two minute warning?

But, I attended and listened to three other moms talk about criteria they see as being important to providing the stability in a child's life.

Of the four of us who participated, I knew two of the others and extrapolate my observation to the fourth mom. We're all educated (which means we are more likely to be liberal and open to ideas, seeking assistance, and be willing to work towards and with solutions presented.) What I found interesting was that before this meeting I wouldn't have classified the the four of us as a representational cross-section of the people living in this community/catchment area. The women's self-declaration of the challenges they face helped me realize that we may have a greater level of education then my neighbors, but we are all struggling.

It was really helpful to hear about other parent's struggles raising their children. One mom had a son who was having difficulties in school and commented how schools were quick to want to label a kid, and that the community services and the pathways to assist the parent are not readily visible. Another parent talked about the difficulties of providing a stable home life when a parent may have to work multiple jobs or a swing shift, meanwhile juggling day or after school expenses, and personal needs and commitments.

And then there was the likes of me who waffles between panic and calm trying to figure out where the money's going to come from for the next two years until CU-4 is into regular day care (versus baby day care - there's a $900/month difference in the fees).

We self-identified as the working poor. Working to make ends not necessarily meet, but get a bit closer together.

* * *
Start of pity party

Because this is a pseudo-anonymous blog, I can further out myself by saying I make a good wage - well above the poverty line, as does DH. We're very careful with our money. We make our choices not based on support of the environment (which most people like to think is our motivation), but because our finances dictate greater frugality. We shop a the second hand shops. We use our local GT for at least half of our weekly groceries. We don't own a car because, well, where would the insurance and car payments come from?

To walk through our house, you'd never know we're running that close to the bone. It's not super fancy, but it has its luxuries (flat screen computer monitor (adult toy) and lots of kids toys in the yard). It's not because we spent a lot of money to get these things.

With some pride I can walk through my house and tell you what curb, or former home 85% of the things in my house came from. We have very very few new things -- which, I keep telling myself, is ok. The kids don't seem to mind. (Christmas is coming, though, and we can't get them anything that they've asked for.) I think I've fooled myself into saying that it's even fun to try to beat my system and stretch that dollar as if it was running a marathon. Alas, brain washing isn't permanent.

So, if you've read this far, you're probably asking "What's the point of this blog post?" Whining, dear readers. Full blown whining, an opportunity to wallow in self-pity about choices I've made and how I have self-inflicted problems. I just need to worry out loud. Panic, more like it. Sometimes it helps free up space so that I can come up with parts of a solution.

If you have nothing to say ...

I grew up with a the Mothership using a lot of adages to get me through the day - of the several that comes to mind is goes something like "If you don't have anything nice to say about some one, don't say anything at all." Now I've used that adage a couple of times -- like many years ago when a work colleague brought in her baby that looked like a very small chimpanzee. Today, well, I have something not nice to say, and I'm trying really hard to be polite about it.

Today I had to take CU-2 to the hospital to have her cast and break looked at. (Did I mention this is the second time she's broken her arm? This time, it's her other arm and she broke it falling out of a tree. Oh my talented child!)

Anyway, I was under the impression that it was to take her cast off. She was the same. This is the information implied, though not necessarily directly relayed by her father's partner who apparently took CU-2 to the hospital to have the break set. This is the same guy who is not a legal guardian of this child and who, by law (and our arbitrated agreement), should not be bringing her anywhere medical, unless either her father or her mother (ME!) are unreachable. (In the event that her father can't take her, I'm supposed to go.)

So here I am. Trying to find nice things to say about the situation. I'm of two minds. One is I appreciate that one of the two (hmmm, trying very hard to choose nice words here) actually cares enough about children that aren't his biologically. And I do appreciate at DXH's partner is taking steps to communicate with me in a more open and direct manner. It helps a bit.

That doesn't stop me guts from churning that they're passing my kids the kids off as theirs. It's bullshit. Sheer bullshit.

Though, in counting my blessings it's not as bad as my friend (see previous posting).

I may have that to look forward to in a couple of years when we have to help CU-1 choose the next school (high school).

Disbelief, that's a word for it

Ok, this one is easy to blog about, but may not be of interest to that many people.

I have a friend (yes really, it's not me) to whom I was introduce based on a commonality - divorce and children. She had and I have. That's were much of the commonality begins and ends on this particular topic.

She's an interesting woman to know. Smart, attractive, sporty and capable. And let me not forget, crippled by the Canadian (in)justice system.

In the divorce decree that was made at the time many years ago, she was not healthy and was unable to defend herself against the much better (financially) positioned ex-spouse. He went at her tooth and nail and walked away with the children. Over the years, he has continued to verbally, emotionally and financially rein rough over his ex-wife (and their children but not using the money she sends him to raise their children). One could say the family has fallen apart after the divorce -- in so many ways.

She has paid, big time. She has supporting three children who have learned (by simply going through the process of teenagers in a ME-ME-ME world and by his own example) to continue to sustain the abuse when they are with their mother.

She has been kept in an economic vice for so many years that she is close to the poverty line.

While this story isn't uncommon - the part that I find so discouraging and that makes me so fearful for having to deal with my ex-husband is the burnt-earth financial policy that some judges allow to stand.

In the case of my friend, she was back in court recently to request lower payments as her eldest child was not in school, had joined the military, and was married. The judge refused to hear her case, lambasted her for wasting the court's time and gave her an additional financial penalty to her already heavy burden.

I read this account with great disbelief.

Where is the justice in the law. I am aware that law IS black and white. It makes me question the greater good. What lesson can be learned by beating some one continuously? Why does this woman receive NO compassion or relief any time she is before the courts?

From the side of the ex-husband - he continues to hold the upper hand. He continues the financial warfare and is encouraged to do so every time the judge rules.

I hope the karma bus comes for you Sir.

Super cute

A super cute video that deserves attention.

Struggles

I've been struggling with this weeks word assignment: Achievement.

It's easy for me to think of other's achievements, and I could certainly write about the pride I have for my siblings who are successful - my sister the triathalete and amazing parent, my brother who gets to go to Hawaii for two weeks to look at dams, and my other brother - the former scientist with several patents to his name. I can wander in and around and through my memories of their various life achievements. I can even do this exercise for my children - CU-2 who's done an amazing job in Girl Guides despite only getting to go to less then half the meetings. CU-3 who shows talent in so many areas that I'm looking forward to her growth with both fear and excitement.

So, while I can talk about achievements of others I find it greatly difficult to look at my own. It's been three nights that I've been trying to draw up a list as a sort of self-identifying exercise. The only things on my list so far are that I've walked Miles-for-Millions, a fund raising activity twice and both times I walked the full 26 miles (in one day). I also walked 26 miles to follow up a Chinese food craving when I worked in Yellowstone National Park.

My sister's boy did this type of exercise (identify things you've done in your life that show your achievements) as part of a high school course. She said it was an enriching process for him to see everything that he'd attained to date (racing medals, swimming awards, and report cards). She told him he could use this to build his resume, and, better yet, when he's going through a crappy time in his life, he'll be able to sit down with this record before him to show himself that he can be successful and feel pride in his achievements.

96 bottles, er, days left

Jealousy is one of the seven deadly sins, and rightly so. It tends to eat away at the very fabric of one's core if not held in check.

Regrettably, I figure this attribute is my worst character flaw.

What brings on this bout of angst you may wonder? I checked in with work this morning to read the weekly departmental wrap sheet.

Sigh.

With being out for a year on maternity leave, it's hard for me not to be part of the work environment. I feel fulfilled there and I get fulfillment from the work I do. I feel like I'm doing something more then laundry, which is not what I wanted to do when I grew up.

In today's release, there's a good, dedicated space to a colleague who picked up the 2nd, and more visible half of a project I struggled with. On one hand, I'm thrilled to be away from the project. It was gross, and my bain. On the other hand, I can be big enough to recognize that she's well on working a difficult project. On the other hand, without me mucking about in the trenches, I don't think she would have had the chance, nor would it have been this amiable.

Thus the bout of jealousy. It's eating at me. I want to be back at work. It was MY project damit! It was my turn to shine. It was my turn to get a chance at the golden ring! (Chances for me seem to come around less often then for my colleague. I just don't have the perky personality to grease the way up the ladder.)

Ooooh. Is that being too bitchy?

Like a cow, I'd like to be outstanding in my field.

My bald baby

It took three children to have the dreaded hair cut incident.

She'd walked away with a kid's scissors.

We'd thought she was working on crafts.

CU-4 was providing cover for her, distracting us by pulling down papers and getting into the tangle of computer wires.

Then it got quite.

"Where's CU-3?"

"CU-3??!"

"I'm in here Da-a-a-hd."

[It's dark in there.]

"Whatchadoing?"

"Cutting my hair."

The air caught a collective OH SHIT!

So she's got a big bald spot on the side of her head. That's an achievement the other three haven't done yet.

Addictions

Hi, my name is MongoAdventurer and I'm addicted to my kid's Webkinz games.

There. I did it. It's a first step. An achievement of sorts.

Friday's love list

Meg Fowler's thrown me a twist today - I'd have to come up with a Megish love list. Arrrgh. I find coming up with my own a tricky feat. I'd started my own, when I realized that I thought I misread the post (I had ...). Thus, for you two or three readers, here's *my* Friday love list:

Love list?

1. A back that doesn't ache.
2. Wet, cold, rainy days. I so much more appreciate the bed, a warm cup-a, books, bathes, TV, CBC radio, especially when they play jazz.
3. An old fashioned snow storm.
4. Shoes that fit well.
5. Scallops.
6. That my body still does what I need it to do, despite the abuse I've put it through.
7. Creative thinking.
8. Humor.
9. Holding hands.
10. Walking through fallen leaves.
11. The smell of a cold morning.
12. Hats.
13. Hats on babies.

What do you love?