I made a world for them. When I couldn’t find the perfect bunny house for sale, I glued wood and moss and stone, late into the night. I crafted grass, and a pond, and a path between the two bunny families. I felted rugs and bowls, sewed tiny curtains and pillows. I released my love into each piece, working as they slept, and with every stitch I sent thoughts to...

I know I reeked of cigarette smoke. My second-hand pants were inches too short, my hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail by a 48 year-old father new to single parenthood, and my nails were bitten to the quick. But that Santa pulled me in tight anyways and hugged me close, and he smelled of cinnamon, and butter cookies, and reindeer feed.

We’ve decorated our tree (suffering only a few ornament casualties) and had a jolly Saint Nicholas celebration, with our favorite sour cream coffee cake taking the place of the Dundee cake of old. We are reading our favorite Christmas stories. When the kids are at school I am quite busy crafting presents in between bits of “real” work. So much to do yet.

One short vanilla breve and one short hot cocoa to go before hitting the grocery store. No boys. Big smiles.

I forgot to arrange a sitter, so I sent him without me. Part of me wanted to go, but I was afraid I’d have nothing to say to them. I didn’t realize he was going to come home so late and so hungry.

When it’s twelve degrees outside on New Year’s Day, it’s important to stay near the fire, have a guitar dance party, and drink eat leftovers for dinner.

The first time I visited the website of accomplished Stockholm-based illustrator Ingela P. Arrhenius, she was coincidentally having a giveaway. I entered, and to my great surprise I won this studly little Swedish man. He now sits on our nature table and watches over the children as they do their homework. He has found a compatriot in my grandfather’s Dala horse.

This walleyed draft snake came out of the swirling flokati rug mist and took his place along the bottom edge of our front door, full of kitty litter and all business.

I do like this time of year, when the outside colors are shifting from vibrance to reserve, diving deeper down into their end season. I, for one, think grays and browns are quite lovely, and bittersweet.

Warm cookies and gloomy skies are the October norm in central New York. He was home all week with the flu. We sat next to each other on the couch, our respective laptops at hand. She wished for flu so she could take her place on the couch, too. The after school cookies were my compromise. We’re looking forward to the weekend: bulb planting, garden clean-up, and sewing for some...