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I was born in a small town in southern Alberta, but have spent my life wandering. My husband, five children, and I are currently settling into the suburbs of Atlanta where we've recently embarked on a homeschooling journey. I've always had a passion for writing; in fact, I don't think I could survive without writing. I have boxes (and boxes) filled with journals, stories, and poetry, and have spent the past 14 years or so keeping a family blog up to date. Hardly a day goes by that I don't write something. It's what keeps me sane.
Recent posts

The First Noël

I've been working on compiling a standardized booklet of Christmas songs for the ukulele so that when our ukulele group gets together later this month we all have the same music. It's a time-consuming enterprise since I don't really  know what I'm doing (and MuseScore, though wonderful, can be quirky (though perhaps that quirkiness falls on the user and not the program)).  At any rate, here is The First Noël , of which I grew up singing only the first two verses. Imagine my surprise when I learned there aren't just three or four verses, but six. Six!  In this version I tweaked the last verse (omitting verses four and five) to read: Now let us all with one accord Seek to follow our Savior, the Light of the World, And like that star that shone so bright Help others to find Him by sharing His light.

Beautiful books

We go through a lot of books in our house. We have  a lot of books, we borrow a lot of books, we read a lot of books. Books are everywhere, always. Going to the library is one of our favourite things to do (we've checked out 300+ books from our public library since moving here four months ago—and that's not including the books my kids have checked out on their own cards) but for me, the most cherished part of any library trip is when we come home from the library and my children spread their spoils out on the floor and devour them. There will be books piled up all around them and they read until their minds and hearts are bursting. They read to themselves, they read to each other, and they (endlessly) beg me to read to them. On our most recent trip to the library we picked up a book by Jean Little (one of my favourite authors) called Pippin the Christmas Pig . It was a sweet story the whole way through (even if those animals were incredibly rude to poor Pippin) but I was

Starting somewhere

Nothing comes from nothing, which means everything must come from something. This, I suppose, is the something of this blog.