I would have called this Winning Wednesday but now it's Thursday.

Time has become like the proverbial quicksand we were taught to fear and survive, as I scoop minutes and hours into my hands, clutching them against my chest only to have them pour out through and between my fingers like water. It speeds along and I constantly find myself remarking that it's already whatever date and then I light my advent candles and wait for them to burn down to the right numbers so I can look like I have my shit together. 

Ha. If that was all it took I'd be the Queen of Fucking Togetherness.

Maybe I am though. I have finished all of the shopping and wrapping that I can do. Whatever is left on the list is up to the boys. I baked banana breads and chocolate thumbprint cookies. I bought a metric ton of ingredients, including the turkeys this week. I got the stockings done and everything is wrapped and bagged by recipient, I ordered gift baskets and Christmas centerpieces. I subsidized UPS for whatever reason and then one very important package got separated from the rest and got stuck in a snowstorm in Quebec. I got all my stuck mail finally from Canada Post yesterday. I engineered drop off of local gifts that need to go out and I organized the times and dates for big Christmas Dinner and Departure Tourtiere. We will have guests for four days. I washed all the sheets and towels and cleaned and put out bowls of wrapped Christmas candies and chocolates. The lights are lit outside around the clock now until New Years Day.

 Maybe I feel a little less anxious now. All of our extended family have their packages. Everyone is off starting tomorrow night at dinner (INCLUDING SAMUEL) and it's time to celebrate Christmas. Finally.

Struggle Monday.

The anxiety is through the roof today and I'm not sure why. It's a Monday. It's pouring rain. I think I'm ready for Christmas but I could use a few extra small things. I had a whole host of unexpected bills which are leaving me nonplussed as I've kept a very strict budget this year in favour of leaving Caleb a little more removed from my life and it's been going well. 

Just like old times for me and Loch when I would wear three pairs of socks to bed and make canned beans and weiners for dinner and just 'forget' to put the ketchup on the table because I was trying to ration it and condiments are not food. 

No, absolutely not like that at all but those are the sorts of lessons I learned right before my brain finished forming and I was doing household budgets as a teenager and so those are the things that stick and everything else is just fluff. It still feels decadent to buy marshmallow fluff or heck, even relish so I guess that's a good thing. 

We have a heavy rainfall warning and I declined to go food shopping today since I wasn't feeling well this morning. Once I did feel a little better, I swept, mopped and vaccuumed (It's been over two decades and I still can't spell it) and did a few loads of laundry but that was it so now tomorrow I'm going to have to take some of the boys with me to get turkeys. 

I hope there's some left. I've left some things until the last minute but at the same time have I? I'm sure I have time. If not that's okay too. We are nothing if not flexible, whether it comes to condiments or dates on a calendar. 

Let's look on the bright side here. Do a list, Bridget, find the light. 

The days will begin to get longer starting on Sunday. 

We don't live in the Prairies anymore. 

Christmas is a lovely time and this year we're hosting dinner on actual Christmas day which means instead of relaxing I get to cook but it keeps me busy and the day will fly by. We're going to do a whole extra turkey this year because surprisingly, but not surprisingly at all, Ruth's husband can outeat every one of the boys here and it's hilarious and we almost ran out of turkey last year and I loved every second of it. 

Everyone is healthy and coping pretty well. 

(The dread though. It sucks oh my hell whyyyyyyyyy) 

I think I'm going to put a fire on in the fireplace and watch a movie and knit. Maybe open the prosecco early. Maybe not. Maybe get more sleep. Maybe do a whole extra page in my gratitude journal. Maybe look back at two years ago things were changing so fast I couldn't keep up and now that everything's changed I still can't catch my breath. 

Maybe later I'll ask Ben if he wants to go and scream into the void with me (off the cliff). Sometimes that works pretty well. Actually yeah, I'm looking forward to that too.

Thirty-five years on.

 I didn't forget. I never do. In fact, I woke up with the usual sadness, the low-key dread of memories that dates and times remember and won't let me forget, but frankly I wouldn't dare. 

I can't believe it's been thirty-five years tonight since my university in Nova Scotia decided to continue with the schedules and hurriedly put security teams and gates in place and checked our identification and our bags and pockets as we entered the theatre to write our freshman winter exams.

It was a mostly-female university, now peppered with a few males, as they couldn't discriminate, but it was heavy on equality and heavier still on feminism and women's rights and on that night we all cried as we wrote, knowing that only hours earlier in Montreal at a similar university fourteen women had been shot simply for being women.

 Did it force a nationwide reckoning, as one publication proclaimed today?

Did it? Of course it didn't. Will it ever? No. I don't think. We'll still fight tooth and nail for everything, whether it's equal pay or a shred of safety in a familiar space but nothing ever changes. 

It's Taylor Swift weekend too here in Vancouver and women everywhere are celebrating their own voices and finding camaraderie in the shared experience of being a women. I feel like men don't manage heartbreak in the same way and when men sing about it it's a difference you can feel. Maybe I can't put it into words but today I remember the names of the women who didn't get to finish their programs and watch their children grow up and dance to Taylor's music and it makes me weep.They should be here, living and loving life and it's amazing to me that we have all learned, much like in all school shootings before and since, how to live in and around the horror of those who hate.

All caps for Christmas.

 It's December third! The day each year when I give myself permission to go whole-hog on the Christmas season. The baking is underway. I made decadent dark chocolate cookies and have plans to do brownies and banana bread as well. I can only do a about a day or two a week of baking because if it gets too chaotic then none of the baked treats actually make it to the holidays thanks to a house full of predictable men with big appetites, and crafty, clever men who will distract me with charm and affection while the rest carry off entire trays of still-warm cookies and cakes. 

It's maddening and frustrating and I love it. I make decoy treats that they can decimate and then I don't mind so much and can run off with a a huge box to load into one of the freezers in the garage. The locked one no one is allowed into because I don't like surprises. After six or seven locks were cut off in honour of being fair they have relented and let me have a whole freezer to be organized with and the other one is the free for all with frozen waffles and air fryer stuff and a few sacrificial treats, in with the buckets of ice cream. 

We'll never eat right, though I have transitioned over from so many treats to more fruit and ingredients and if you're really hungry a half a bagel with a slice of cheese or a sprinkle of cinnamon sugar is a good alternative to seven chocolate chip cookies. 

Right, Benjamin? RIGHT? 

I have Ali & Theo singing around the clock, doing their greatest Christmas songs like Where Are You Christmas? and Let It Fall, as the world is sleeping on this duo. And Eisley's Christmas songs because they're just freaking MAGICAL.

 I have all of the decorations and outside lights up and done (Thanks to Lochlan and Duncan and Sam and Matt, who breezed in and without asking or directing on my part, emptied the bins that were neatly stacked in the front hall, just in time for Advent to begin and Sam will be too busy to do anything now until Jesus is born and after that he will rest until Easter and do it all again but the countdown will only be like a long weekend instead of four straight weeks and it's easier somehow) and the tree will go up early next week, I hope. 

I'm not doing it. 

I played the boys Paris Paloma's Labour song once and that's all it took to get a huge amount of preemptive help. I've also started to let go of some things that I just did and don't do any more and I feel like some of the work is lifting and I have more time to watch Netflix and knit and sew (holiday romance, true crime and documentaries, if you will, at present. I finished my list of horror movies left over from Halloween that were on my list (NO GOOD ONES JESUS) and so far A California Christmas is still winning, because it had a SEQUEL, City Lights. I also watched Christmas in Rome, Hot Frosty and A Crown for Christmas and Hot Frosty was hilarious but obviously written by someone who hated sci-fi but saw Fifth Element, and A Crown was weird because Danica McKellar is MY AGE and they positioned her as a burdened thirty-year-old and I couldn't help but think that the whole movie was written for Jennifer Connelly and Paul Bettany but someone didn't land the budget and so they went this way instead. 

I'm not even going to talk about the BUY NOW Documentary because it was so bad and once again the onus lands on me to use shitty paper straws and not buy from Shein but ignores the companies and countries using plastic and shipping our 'recycling' to places out of sight. 

Wait, what? 

I'm doing everything I can. I want Amazon to have a 'deliver everything at once' so when I order eight things (saving gas, time and the carbon footprints of multiple stores) they don't bring them in fifteen separate trips. Goddamn. Last night they delivered a single box the size of my Jeep. Inside it was a sole button battery for a ornament that lights up. I tried four different stores and couldn't find that one size so I ordered it. FUCKING SUE ME. I was so mad that it's come to this, but I did spend the past six years with a dark ornament so it's not like I need instant gratification, I just decided this year I would fix the darn thing. But ARGHHHHHHHH.

I have more thoughts if you're interested but the boys aren't which is why I put them here.