In my south-western corner of Toronto the daffodils and hyacinths are in full bloom. They don’t mind some cold weather; in fact, they are hardy enough that they do better in cold than in warm temperatures.
Well the garden is exploding with these flowers at the moment. Despite the suffocating dead foliage and other debris in the neglected garden, these bright coloured flowers are peeking through the drab browns and greys, and awaken my senses for spring.
Yesterday, when I left for a shopping trip, there was an Amazon package on the front step. I picked it up without looking who it was for and put it on the dining room table. I knew it wasn’t for me, I rarely shop at Amazon. I figured it was for one of the men.
When I got home the package was still on the table, unopened. I thought, it must be for my daughter. Sure enough, when she arrived home from school and upon completion of the puppy-mauling-attack, she opened her package and took out the following items:
Some time ago someone asked me some specifics about my partner. Specifically, they wanted to know if my partner was male, i.e. whether I was in a heterosexual relationship.
It was clear to me that this person had not read my blog for very long, because I think it’s obvious that we are living the life of a traditional family. I am the primary caregiver and he is the primary earner and we cohabit at the same address and raise the spawn together.