This time-change throws me into a tizzy every time. EVERY TIME. I’m just sitting here in a daze. Outside, there are snow piles taller than ME — which actually doesn’t say very much, so… — taller than JOSH — also not saying much — taller than my car (that much I know because, when I’m driving my car, all I see is WHITE!). Of course, I can’t even see the steps to my house.

I should be digging tunnels in the snow for the monkey. Or, we could be sledding off the big snow piles onto the slippery street, like some of the other kids around here — the ones with the STUPID STUPID parents…!

Okay, okay, I’ll get off my arse and take a picture of what’s going on out there. We got a STEREOTYPICAL Canada for ya. STEREOTYPICAL! ALL snow and ice and freezing cold here. Wait, let me get my snow shoes. KIDDING. I do NOT own a pair of these:


I haven’t even ever SKIED…EVER.

Okay, so c’mon outside with me. Look at that!


The view from my front door…. Check Josh-O’s awesome shoveling job!

Can you believe!? Now, come with me out back….


The view from my back window. Look how high the snow is against my fence!

CAN YOU BELIEVE? In my 33 years on this Canadian earth, I have NEVER seen so much snow. EVER.

In the middle of this historical snow storm (apparently, we haven’t had snow like this in 70 years, the newspapers are saying!), we trekked out to a fab soirée…. And, the monkey was the belle of the ball…, erm, literally….


Everyone oohed and ahhhed and POINTED at Princess Thang as she strode by….


Holding herself, and her dress, like a true princess…. Who IS that girl?

As you can see, the imagination is in full bloom. Princesses are DA BOMB, already, at 2.5 years old. As are babies….

Meet “Abigail.”

You’ve met creepy Abigail in a previous post, yes. But, now, she has a NAME.

Now, tell me, Gorgeouses: are any of you named ABIGAIL. Because I can’t think of ANYONE the monkey knows named Abigail. Abby, yes. But, Abigail? How the frick does she know the name Abigail??? And, why is this baby all of a sudden named Abigail.

It’s freaking me out because, when I think of Abigail, I think of Arthur Miller’s The Crucible (one of my favourite plays), or the famous Salem witch Abigail Hobbs…. I think of Salem and the witch trials, in other words. Call me crazy, but that’s what comes to mind. And, my monkey DOTH have reddish hair.

Sometimes, she even says “I AM ABIGAIL”…. DO do DO do DO do DO do! EEE EEE EEE EEE!

So, please tell me your name is Abigail….! Or, that Dora’s third cousin once removed is named Abigail! Or, that this is totally normal and not-freaky because EVERY little girl names their creepiest baby doll Abigail?

And, while we’re asking questions…. Is it snowy where you are? Have you EVER seen snow like this? Do you own a pair of snowshoes? And, how good is The Other Boleyn Girl — OMIGOSH LOVING IT! I could read it all day…, but, you know, I have to take care of Abigail the Monkey and her wee brother….

We are still exhausted BEYOND over here, by the way. But, I’m starting to see the light: he slept for 5 hours last night. Bless his sweet adorable soul!

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