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This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.

there's a town in North Ontario...

I love the scent of the blossoms that floats around me when I'm sitting on the front steps of my parents house. It occurs to me that I took everything around for granted. Everything. The sharp blades of green grass, the budding leaves and the falling-open blossoms of the apple trees and lilac bushes. I knew that nature was happening around me, but I didn't pay any attention to it. And how much I liked it. Especially flowers. I just can't get enough of the scent of fresh lilacs in the vase in front of me.

I'm just enjoying it now.

I even cooked dinner for my family this evening. I never cook, anyone who has read this journal knows I'm no genius in the kitchen. It was just burgers and pasta salad with sugar peas but it was good and it was satisfying to sit down to eat. When we were at the grocery store, I had to force myself to not buy too much, reminding myself I could come back to the store and all the fresh produce would still be there. Crazy how much my perspective has been scewed since moving to Very Northern Canada.

In a fit of I-Don't-Know-What, Chunk and I bought a big box of fireworks. Stay tuned for either a very sad accidental dismemberment or fabulous photograhs.

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