Fishing for luck

A man fishing off of a dock in the late afternoon

To be honest, I don’t fish. I did a bit when I was younger–just off of the dock occasionally when my family would go camping. I didn’t even have my own rod or anything; I would just borrow someone else’s, usually my dad’s.

My brother, on the other hand, loves fishing. He and my sister-in-law took their gear out to the cabin with them when we went a couple of weeks ago, and he spent plenty of time down on the dock, fishing off of the edge. He would have been out on a boat, if we’d had one with us.

While I may not have fished with him, I did take the opportunity to snap a couple of pictures. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

A fishing rod on the edge of a dock

A Canadian fishing lure alongside others

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Summer nights

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If you read July’s Monthly Update, you may remember that I mentioned I was going on vacation early in the month. I went with my mom, brother, and sister-in-law down to the States for about a week and a half.

It was a great trip–lots of shopping, lots of family time, and lots of relaxing. It was exactly what we all needed.

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The first half of the trip was spent in Iowa. We have family there, and it had been about five years since we’d been down to visit. They did come up to see us recently–for Denie and Kaleigh’s wedding last summer, and for Dad’s funeral in December–but it felt like a really long time since we’d been the ones to make the trip.

I’m so glad we made it this summer. Plus, our timing meant we were there for July 4. Admittedly, the fireworks we saw were a bit disappointing, but spending the day out at my aunt and uncle’s farm was pretty wonderful.

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The second half of the trip was spent at a cabin in Minnesota. We rented a place on Lake Emily for a few nights. It was the perfect size for the four of us, with a large fire pit and a path directly down to the lake. Our timing was perfect, too. It rained a couple of nights, but the days were sunny and the evenings beautiful.

All of that said, the trip was bittersweet. It was our first family vacation without my dad, and his presence was definitely missed. He would have enjoyed both Iowa and Minnesota, and having him there with us would have made it so much better.

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Where I got my love of food


Cooking and baking are two of my favourite activities. You’ve probably figured that out by now, if you’re a regular reader of my blog. I’ve shared a fair number of recipes and recipe reviews over the years.

A question I often get asked, once people catch on to my love of food, is where this love came from. The answer, as far as I can tell, is simple: from my mom.

When I think of cooking, I think of my mom. I think of the French Onion Soup she learned to make because it was such a family favourite at restaurants. I think of the spaghetti sauce recipe she perfected by shadowing my great grandpa whenever he came to visit. I think of the Yorkshire puddings that I only ever remember her making, of the perogies that took over the kitchen table as she folded them by hand, and of the countless home-cooked meals we’ve enjoyed throughout my life.

My mom’s kitchen–like many of those you’ll read about in Wayfair’s #MyMothersKitchen stream–was and continues to be a place of delicious, loving memories. It may not have held much of the modern furniture and extra storage you can buy today, but what it did hold was something better: good food, good people, and a whole lot of love.

This post was written as part of Wayfair’s #MyMothersKitchen. More stories will be added as Mothers Day approaches, so sure to to keep checking the hashtag.

A Christmas tradition

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Every family has its holiday traditions.¬†They eat certain foods, open presents on chosen¬†days, put up particular decorations… the list goes on, unique for each and every family.

My family has established plenty of traditions over the years, but today I’m going to focus on just one. Every Christmas day, my mom’s side of the family gets together in the early afternoon and begins a rather rowdy game of street hockey.

Continue reading “A Christmas tradition”