Here I am in Canada, safe under my father's roof. How very traditional. If I'm not under my husband's roof, I'm usually under my father's in Toronto or my brother's in Quebec.
Anyway, I am on holiday from Church news, so you will not find any big Church news here, solely local details. I went to my parents' parish church for First Friday Mass (and the Feast of St. Blaise) and was very moved by the old stained glass windows, rescued when the old church was knocked down and replaced. I have loved those windows all my life. The current parish priest is a lovely man, too. There were 40 or so people at the 8:30 AM, and that also was moving.
The natal oikia (house, oikos is a household) is not in the least historical, but it is big and bright and sunlit, with big white tiles in the massive kitchen and the lovely wooden floors that have been replacing the wall-to-wall carpets over the past two decades. The sentimental wallpaper in the bedroom of my youth has been replaced by chic green paint, and the newly wooden floor is a delight.
Lots of sunlight, lots of coffee and a delicious cake. My mother is my superior in the baking of cakes, and I don't care who knows it. She blames British flour for my cakes' deficiencies.
It is very cold outside, but it's a dry cold. It's a beautiful, crisp Ontario cold.