Month: September 2018

Decorating as a Family

Gram, Mom, Cléo, Cyril and I, gathered around the Winterfest tree. Cléo and I are still in our pajamas, because three days away from Winterfest, you’re allowed. I don’t make the rules.

Bare at the beginning, the tree progressively gets heavier and shinier as we throw onto its branches the garlands and the lights that Gram instructs us to, to make it look pretty… and then a few more, just because we feel like it.

It takes teamwork, and the results, in my humble opinion, are magical.

Decorating as a Family

Gram, Mom, Cléo, Cyril and I, gathered around the Winterfest tree. Cléo and I are still in our pajamas, because three days away from Winterfest, you’re allowed. I don’t make the rules.

Bare at the beginning, the tree progressively gets heavier and shinier as we throw onto its branches the garlands and the lights that Gram instructs us to, to make it look pretty… and then a few more, just because we feel like it.

It takes teamwork, and the results, in my humble opinion, are magical.

A Guest

It’s full-blown holiday season, and we have a tree to decorate and time to spend as a family.

None of us can imagine decorating the tree without the oldest and most artistic member of our family. If there ever was a parent figure for us, it is she, and she needs to be around today.

And she arrives dressed for the occasion.

Streaming tonight!

Hey guys! I haven’t shared that on tumblr yet, but I’ve been streaming for a few weeks now. As classes start again tomorrow, most of my streams (on weekdays) will be about me editing screenshots for this blog, making my gifs, and writing the texts.

So if you want to see the backstage of my posts, PLUS an unreleased peek into the future… you can find my Twitch channel HERE.

I’ll be streaming tonight, Sunday 16th, at 7PM Central European Time, that is to say 11AM Pacific Time, 2PM Eastern Time.

I’m also going to be experimenting with a new schedule: so far the plan is to stream every weekday — except Friday — at 8PM CET, making content for Tumblr, where I’ll schedule three posts to be uploaded every day — except Fridays. There might be more, depending on the content that I have, namely videos to convert to gifs.

And on the weekends, I’ll stream art! I don’t know if this whole thing is sustainable at all, but we’ll see.

Thanks for reading, I look forward to streaming tonight, and hopefully see some of you guys ❤

Snow Angels in the Sand

I can’t do Snowpals, but I can fall flat on my back, as I’ve demonstrated time and time again. It hurts even less when you’re actually really falling into sand.

Here and now though, there’s more to it than just plain fun. I don’t do yoga like Mom does, but there’s something in the peaceful white around me and the cold crisp air of the beach in wintertime that reminds me of the peace she finds in it.

It’s a slightly more dynamic savasana.

Like, way more dynamic.

Snowpal on the Beach

They say practice makes perfect, but let’s be honest, I’m not seeing any improvement here. I’m still terrible at snowpals, and I assure you, I’m trying really hard. I think the artistic gene in the Stewarts family vanished with Mom’s mothers, cause I sure as heck didn’t get a speck of it.

But at least the setting is stunning, even if my little pal here… definitely isn’t.

Through the Forest and to the Beach

The vet clinic is located in a truly beautiful part of Brindleton Bay, as I think I’ve said before. In the middle of a forest that is now covered in deep snow, from the ground to the top of the highest green pines.

If you know your way through it, you’ll find yourself going down a slope — careful not to slip — and into an opening, to the vastness of the Brindleton Bay beach. Today the sky is a beautiful bright blue and the sun is shining on snow-covered sand. It’s a landscape of whites and blues and it’s a spectacle I’m happy I’m able to witness.

The Vet

It’s definitely the season; at least in part. The vet’s waiting room is filled with sick pets and veterinarians walking back and forth, hurrying either to meet patients or wipe up some type of animal bodily fluid off the floor.

Like last time though, we are prioritized, because the blonde Stewarts heir hair opens you doors.

“Definitely a cold,” the helpful veterinarian tells me. “He’ll be okay, but we should keep him in observation for a few days. Nounou’s not getting any younger.”

I put a kiss on my grumpy cat’s head, and head back outside in the corridor, leaving him behind. I almost trip over Gram, who, she tells me, is here because her cat’s immune system didn’t walk into winter unscathed either. But she has more experience with this than me, and in a few wise sentences, reassures me that everything is gonna be alright.