What a year!

No, no, I promise I'm not going to do a newsletter-y version of the year in review. Instead, here are some of the posts from this blog that capture highlights. Or just some of my favourite posts. 

How do you spell "schlock schmaltz"? in which I talk about Stephen.

There is no way for me to write about my husband without causing readers to gag on the saccharine sweetness. It will drive you into diabetic shock; it will have you running for a wet paper towel so you can wipe the stickiness off your cheeks. You will envy me and loathe me. 

 The Short Way's Fast, but the Long Way's Pretty in which I show you why I love my commute.

I feel very blessed that my daily commute takes me along the parkway - one of the city's secret treasures. It isn't the shortest route for me to take, but it is definitely beautiful. These past few weeks as the snow has accumulated, I've been captivated by the play of monochromatic hues: white, grey, blue.

Oh, puh-lease! in which I rant.

I just saw a new all-time low for abuse of homonyms in the English language: thei're

Girl on a Mission in which I share a story from my youth.

I was once a teen missionary. When I was 17, my cousin Ruth and I went with Teen Missions International to France. Yes, indeedy, I was an evangelist in France.

Caution: Hypochondria can make you sick  in which I expose you to mental contaminants.

Will I never learn? DO NOT GOOGLE IMAGES FOR DERMATOLOGICAL DISORDERS!

Birthday Bliss in which I share the pleasure of my very happy 49th birthday.

My birthday present this year was a be-yoo-tiful new Nikon D90 digital SLR camera. I'm still baffled by all of its settings and buttons, but it sure does take some very fine photos. Even the bad photos are better than with my old camera: the underexposed areas have very little noise and the edges do not have the significant warping that I found with my other camera.

The road to a friend's house is never long in which I talk about Joe and Mary and the fun we had.

That's easy for me to say, since I didn't make the trek. But our friends, Joe and Mary, drove 3,000 km from their house in Colorado to ours in Ottawa (including across Kansas, which I have learned is the most boring drive on the planet) - and we are so glad they did.

He says, she says in which you get a peek into our bedroom.

Steve and I lay down on the bed as the air wafted gently over our sweaty bodies.

Peter's in stitches in which Peter is injured.

There I was, enjoying my Saturday-afternoon nap, when the phone rang. Assuming it was a telemarketer, I let Brian answer it, but it was Peter, and he sounded distraught, like he couldn't quite get his breath.

And then the world turns grey in which I open up about my struggle with depression.

One of the unfortunate things I've learned is that, for me, that monochrome world of hopelessness is really never far away. This reality is exhausting. It is like building a house on a constantly eroding shoreline.

A Prickly Situation in which I lament Movember.

See those hairs? They are STRAIGHT and POINTY! When he puckers up, those little needles aim RIGHT AT MY SOFT, VULNERABLE LIPS! They're like hundreds of tiny swords aiming at my mouth.

Advice You Never Asked For in which I try to explain what I think makes our marriage happy.

Nobody asked me - not a single one of you! - but I've decided to offer it to you anyway. I'm going to share my thoughts on what I think has helped my own marriage.

It's been quite a year. Did I choose the same posts you would have?