Most of my life I have performed. I’ve been a member of several bands. I have stage-managed several plays.

Drill? Check. Drill bit? Check. Snowshoes? Check. Hammer? Check. Buckets? Check. Lids? Check. Spiles? Check. Water? We’ll eat the snow. Strong heart? Fingers crossed.

When renovating a home or building a new one, the amount of decisions that you have to make is mind boggling. Your brain starts to turn to mush.

If you’re wondering how many times you can say “Oh Shit” or “What the Fuck” during a house renovation, let me tell you, it’s a lot.

So, after 4 years of trying to get this started. We can finally say, there is no turning back now. The the memory creation begin.

“When we were young we never enjoyed nature. We were too busy surviving to pay much attention to its beauty.”

Over the past few years I have felt myself evolving, or as some may see it, regressing. Let me try to explain. I am basically retired.

Our property sits on a mountain in an area of Quebec that receives a lot of snow and rain. When there is a stretch of dry weather we need to be prepared to take advantage of it.

There are several family owned sugar shacks in our area. Each spring families gather to tap the trees and welcome in spring by making some maple syrup. Along the way good conversations are had, gin is drank and food is eaten.

It snowed the other day. It felt like the final blow from mother nature before she lifts us back up just in time for spring.

I glance at my phone. The display reads December 24, 2020. I wonder how can this be?

It’s been awhile since I posted anything here. Why? Because I lost interest. There seemed to be far too many other things that were more important than stringing together a few words to post online. But, I want to talk about loss.