daysgoby

ve have questions

2009-07-07T12:44:00.005-03:00

Whump!

I opened my eyes reluctantly. 'Hi, Lucy.'

Lucy put her paw on my nose again. Wake up! Lazy humans.... That's better.

'Ow. Quit with your pokey little paws, cat!'

Don't make me bare my claws....Hey! This is important. Someone has stolen the children. They're not in their beds.

'No, they're not. The house is going to be quiet for a few days - they're on vacation.'

You let someone take my petting people away?

I yawned. 'Think of it as a vacation for you from getting dressed up in doll clothes.'

Lucy did a double-take. But...who will pet me? Who will purr him to sleep? Who will leave cat-hair on her clothing? Are they alone on this vacation?

'Naw, Luce. There's a dog on the trip with them.'

You did what???

I'd like my boy back now, please.

third time's the charm

2009-07-04T18:42:00.004-03:00

Rosey bounced up to me, beaming. 'Look.' she breathed, 'Look.'

Tight in her hand, the fingers uncurling, up on her tip-toes, watching her own palm....

barely breathing, hair swinging forward on her shoulder....

And there - there! in her hand was her tooth.

Third time's the charm, Rosey. Thanks for letting me keep one.

two steps to the right

2009-07-04T15:40:00.004-03:00

I'm a little wrong-footed today.

I missed seeing Loth on her adventure in my part of the area, the weather will NOT cooperate with doing anything outside, and I'm a little homesick.

Today is Independence Day in the United States, and it feels very wrong and strange that I'm the only person around that has the urge to make red white and blue cake and arrange sparklers and fried chicken.

(But perhaps with that far-off thunder we keep hearing we wouldn't be outside for picnicking and fireworks anyway?)

And I'll have pretty lights tomorrow night. Not all is lost.

Still.....

Some days it's just harder to be a pseudo-Canadienne.

image from here

looking for loth

2009-07-03T17:46:00.002-03:00

And I haven't found her. Yet.

Despite walking the fair this afternoon, looking for a small but handsome group with striking accents, and prowling the pirate ship, I fear I have come up empty-handed.

Calls to her B&B net me the answering machine.

Loth, my dear, I hope you're out having an awesome time, where ever you are. And if you'll send me info where you'll be at either of the other places you said you were visiting, I'll catch up to you before you leave.

I promise. I'm so glad your stay has been wonderful so far!

and the wheel goes round, round

2009-07-02T12:50:00.005-03:00

You learn a lot, working in a public place.

Today, for example, I've had conversations about everything - from the cafeteria is making more wraps for lunch to the weather and isn't-it-a-shame-the-park-grass-will-be-all-ripped-up when the semis hauling the carnival rides sink into the soft ground and the latest potluck get-together news. There's a timelessness to it all, to the time-worn queries and sighings over the weather and the concerns that small-town life bring - and a sweetness I never found in other places I've lived.

There's a comfort in living here, in knowing not only my son will be safe as he rides his bike to his friend's house*, but neighbors along the way will note that he goes by and remark upon it as they drink their tea or hang out their wash or flip on their computers (we're not quite as 50's-ish as immediately appears) and Bear will get queried about it by tomorrow afternoon.

Because my young'uns are part of this community now. Assimilated into the great patch-work of it all, of births and deaths and heartbreaks and tradition, of other people watching my kids grow up, remembering in the back of their minds what my husband was like as a child.

Some of them remember when B rode his bike by himself for the first time too.

*For the first time! All by himself! How did he get so big so fast?

now THAT's entertainment

2009-06-30T00:01:00.001-03:00

Nothing like choking on your popcorn:

The Slap Chop. Brought to you by the same oddball that screams about the ShamWow. Watch for the bit (:55) when he says 'You're going to love my nuts.' 'Scuse me? That's a little forward, isn't it?

Cass and I went and saw Transformers II. It was wonderful and muscle-y and lots of robotics and explosions and the plot was every bad thing critics are saying about it. There was one point where the souls of the machines (???) talk to the hero at a gauzy cloudlike crucial plot point and I think I snorted aloud. The plot doesn't quite hang together, but the whole thing was absolutely joyous in its execution of every single small boys' dream - I had no problem picturing the grown writers of the film all hunkered down on the floor playing with the toys from their childhoods and then using every single battle scene they loved. Worth the money to go and see - if only for the way the smaller ones in the audience forget to blink after awhile - but you'll probably get a kick out of it too.

And the latest thing the kids are crazy about is Kidz Bop - pop songs sung by children. I would probably enjoy this more ~~if I could hear over the grinding of my teeth~~ if it didn't remind me of cheap record albums hawked on tv when I was growing up. Anyone else remember K-tel?

lord love a duck

2009-06-29T00:20:00.004-03:00

Finally!

After three days of threatening skies and dripping and misting and cold winds and fog (lord, the fog!!) and putting extra blankets on the bed (and it's almost July, for Pete's sakes, I had to dig the extra blankets back out) and stuck-in-the-house kids and wet grass and 'can't we just go to the playground and see if it's too wet?' and general malaise which even cookies couldn't cure.....

It's raining like a freaking monsoon out there.

Here's to sunshine.

thursday night commercial, scene fourteen

2009-06-24T23:03:00.003-03:00

A funny funny from Japan...

tumpin'

2009-06-22T18:39:00.004-03:00

Driving down the highway with two kids in the back - full of bubbles and chocolate and bonhomie - just a plain-jane day, went for a bicycle ride earlier but nothing really sensational happening and maybe we'll bake something tonight.....

and suddenly the skies OPENED UP and there was a DELUGE and the back of the car fell silent
and there was a whiff of consternation in the warbly voice that whispered
'Mama, why is the rain thumping so hard on the car?'

and then there was a CRACK OF THUNDER

and the kids both went white and shoved their noses against the glass while straining to still hold hands across the car seats

and you can't make the weather change - can barely see to drive the car - and oh, God, the road is flooding and am I sliding? am I skidding? This feels like a skid.... turn into the skid (I think) and my GOD the water is fountaining up over the car into the opposite lane

and from the back seat: 'Mama?'

What would you do?

There is nothing else. You must not let these children feel like they are anything but safe with you. This means that this can NOT be scary.

So, you work one hand across the dashboard until you feel the volume knob and you turn it waaay up and wag your fool head off to Crazy Frog.

Which makes them giggle. AND the rain is slowing to a dull roar. Success!

So, apologies to anyone who passed me on the way back home today. I wasn't ignoring you. And I wasn't having a seizure.

I had some dancin' to do.

garbled love

2009-06-20T17:40:00.008-03:00

Both of my kids are goofy about their Dad. They clamor to sit by him, to give him the last kiss, to talk to him first about their days.

Today there was shopping and discussing what to do to celebrate Daddy tomorrow and excited giggles and much scurrying to hiding places to excitedly finger gift-type things.

Because they love to fuss over their Daddy.

So, from our children, written by our youngest:

Ha Perfat Hersday, honey. Much love.

And just...well, because damn-this-thing-is-cute, and because I can't think of a more convoluted way to say I love you:

back ends

2009-06-19T00:06:00.003-03:00

Have you ever looked at the not-so-pretty side of your town? Not the seedy part of town, but the part that faces the parking lots and scrubbier, unkempt things. The carelessly painted bits and the broken pavement?

If you drive down towards the next town and park next to the blue bridge, across the road from the tied-up floating old boats that protestingly creak and tug at their moorings in the breeze, you can see across the river to the communal parking spots and the backs of some of the businesses there.

You can see, even though it's nearly six pm on a Thursday night, that both the hardware store and the notions shop are still doing a brisk business, and that the park is studded with knots of older kids too cool to go on the swings or the slide but eager to use the picnic tables and old benches to chat with their friends.

Look, there are the fading murals on the buildings - aren't they beautiful? - and try to count the colours of all the shops you see.

You can watch in delight as a group of middle school boys file past, rampant in their coolness, suddenly shouting and pell-melling it toward the end of the long fishing pier, tossing off clothes and diving in like young seals.

You can grin at the scene before you, spread out before you like the present it is, and hear the echo of your delight in the sound of the river chuckling and slapping to itself as it flows into the varied blue of the nearby ocean.

Summer's here.

the pout of sodor

2009-06-15T10:11:00.004-03:00

THIS is the face I get when I burble something about how Thomas (of Tank Engine fame) doesn't teach you anything and shouldn't we see if something else is on? THIS is a scary face.

time and tide

2009-06-13T22:34:00.003-03:00

The lupins are out, brightening our hearts and roadways.

They look like spiky crown-tops of some forgotten woodland king, peeking out of the long grass. A few years back, Nova S planted lupins all along the roads and highways in a beautification - and quite possibly tourist - project. Aging stock and repeated mowing have destroyed many (they're quite a fragile plant) but there are still enough to make you gasp as you come around a corner and see a field dappled with coloured pointy stalks, swaying in the breeze.

Blues and pinks and purples, everywhere you look for a few weeks each spring.

I spent a very nice afternoon lazing around - Cass was at a party, and I had time to myself - an intoxicating few hours to stroll through the grocery (which is a very different place when you aren't running through the aisles on a time line or shepherding children) go find some things to take photos of, and sit (sit!) at a park, smelling the beach roses. It was heady and wonderful and completely foreign.

And being childless made me realize how different things will be this fall. With both kids in school, I'm going to have time for things.

Time by myself. Time for myself.

Which will be as strange in its own way as having both kids be in school.

Funny how seeing the strange, shaggy flowerheads peering out at me can cause such introspection.

thursday night commercial, scene thirteen

2009-06-11T23:12:00.002-03:00

I can't stop smiling when I see this. Can you imagine seeing this in real life - being swept off on a tide of energy, surrounded by laughing, smiling people?

I would have danced too.

huddled masses

2009-06-08T22:07:00.004-03:00

Today was one of those days where the car was hot but the breeze blowing in the windows was chill and clean and smelt achingly fresh and of the ocean.

There is a tinge of salt and seaweed scent on the air almost everywhere in Nova Scotia - a reminder of the Atlantic that bubbles outside our doors and wends its way into our minds and thoughts and attitudes. Most people don't think about it, so ingrained is this breathing in of ocean tide and ocean current into their very beings, and only miss it when they move away, where the air smells different and the humidity is all wrong and the land under your very feet seems boxy and strange.

You can breathe better out here.

And today? Today, with the windows wide-open, letting out all the hot air out of my car and sucking in great draughts of fresh, sea-scented air - air with hints of lilacs just-coming-into-bloom and the crisp tang of newly mown grass?

Today I thought of people who live in cities, cities with more than two gas stations and food options galore, places that aren't asleep by ten o'clock, people that live concrete-brown and asphalt-grey lives - and realized that this minute?

This very minute?

Not jealous in the least.

second floor

2009-06-06T21:00:00.005-03:00

I swing up the stairs, around the newel post, and down to the first door.

It's dim in there - the blue of twilight coming through her lace curtain and her Madeline nightlight cheerily glowing in the corner, but the dark can't hide her grin and wave when I come in.

Surrounded by stuffed rabbits of every size and possible colour, my little one waits for her tucking-in with a wiggle and a determined planting of her feet on top of the covers. When I bend and sweep her blanket up, I have to find resting spots for all her bunnies before she'll relax into waiting-for-sleep.

Saying goodnight to her is a process - a song, prayers, a second song, a quick kiss and a conversation about what tomorrow will bring, and only then do I walk down to Cass's room.

Cass is usually reading. Or possibly playing his DS, covers pulled up but the sheet crumpled at the foot of the bed. It takes me a minute to fix that, settle him with his fan turned on, his door opened just so, Lucy the cat ensconced in her spot at the end of the bed and his final kiss, and then we talk a little about the day.

He loves me, he says, and he'll see me tomorrow.

And I step out of my big boy's room and walk softly down the hall, past his already-slumbering sister's room where the plop! of a bunny hitting the floor is the only sound, and head toward the pool of light at the bottom of the stairs.

I love this time of night, when the television is muted and low and I can hear them turn over or scramble up for a quick drink before bed. When the cat padding down the hallway to check on the girl is the loudest sound in the house.

When my babies are safe, and fast asleep, and dreaming.

charming and friendly

2009-06-04T20:32:00.010-03:00

The lovely Joie from Canned Laughter gave me this:
This award is given to the writers of blogs that “are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.”

Okay, my eight:

Jewles from Cat Hair Tumbleweeds
Bronwyn May-b from Buggering Crap Monkeys
Kittenpie from Life of 'Pie
Emma from Where there's a Willer
Chantal from Two Hands Full
Mary from Them's my Sentiments
Caroline from Stomper Girl
Witchypoo from Psychicgeek

Thank you, thank you, Joie!

Today was a good day - I worked in the afternoon and came home to a bright-eyed girl who wanted nothing but to ride bikes, ride bikes, ride bikes but was stymied by her bright-cheeked brother, who spent the day home from school with a spring cold and didn't want to play.

So, since he's her biggest toy, she stayed inside and found something quiet to do.
We looked at old pictures, played dominoes and did computer mah-jongg while Cass slumped on the couch, not exactly listless but with something missing from the usual sprong in his step.

Spring colds are awful. But short-lived, so perhaps tomorrow we'll be back to adventures.

Today we'll kick back and relax a bit.

thursday night intermission

2009-06-04T18:16:00.009-03:00

It has been a BANG-UP, FANTABULOUS day.

First, I went to do the last fluoride treatment of the school year - and scored a free toothbrush. Free stuff - not to be sneezed at.

While I was there, Cass's (very lovely and fabulous) teacher came scooting up to me in the hall and let me know that my boy, my just-getting-out-of-first-grade-won't-be-in-second-until-the-fall boy, is reading at a grade 4.5 level. This makes the bookish part of me sing with happiness.

Then I didn't have to get naked at the ladybits doctor. Although having conversations with him while I'm fully clothed and not staring at the ceiling? Really, really strange.

And after some whirlwind working and driving and working again, I came home to both kids riding their two-wheelers, swooping around with abandon in the waning summer light, and then, to top it all off.....Bear made supper.

And dessert was a make-your-own sundae bar. Really, can it get any better than that?

I don't think so.

life among the beasties

2009-06-01T16:28:00.008-03:00

Cass's class went to Ross Farm last week, and I went along, bemused at the number of people who recoiled when I admitted I'd never gone before. 'But....you've never been?'

Well, no. But he's only a first-grader! And I didn't grow up here, remember? (Now if you want to talk about Mackinac Island, I'm your girl....)

Anyway. Gorgeous place. Even if you're the unlucky kid with the Mom who keeps forgetting to pack snacks.

Cass loved it so much he wants to go back this summer. But this time, with snacks.

groucho, harpo, chico, gummo, and zeppo

2009-05-31T13:20:00.003-03:00

My mother has a fine sense of humour.

Once while (expecting me to visit her) in the hospital, she exchanged her glasses for a pair of Groucho Glasses and fell asleep, figuring I'd see her and get a kick out of it.

She was awakened by a doctor trailing five medical students, who did a check-over and asked her questions about her health, checked her reflexes, etc.

It wasn't until they left she realized she still had the glasses on.

Every few Christmases a pair of Groucho glasses will make the rounds. We all giggle and try them on, but for me it will never be as funny as the day Mom became a Marxist in front of her doctor.

Yesterday at the Spring Fair, both the kids played the fish-pond and brought some home. What better time to chronicle the next generation of social deviants?

thursday night commercial, scene twelve

2009-05-29T23:31:00.000-03:00

Yes, yes, I'm late....

This whole thing cracks me up - from the cat to the dog's voice to the way the woman strokes the bony little ferret like he's the softest cuddly thing ever.

if she could drive you'd think she was a teen

2009-05-27T10:06:00.003-03:00

Having a boy first spoiled me completely for wash-and-go. For years, it was look-at-the-clock-and-whoops-we-have-to-leave-in-half-an-hour-is-the-boy's-face-clean?

And off we'd go.

Now we have conditioner. And hair styles. Hair things. Special brushes and bobby pins and pony tail holders and sparkly stuff.

And the shoes need to be just so. 'Are these shoes okay with these shorts and this top?'

She's four. FOUR.

I know this is just the beginning. I know I'm still in for matching outfits and tights and shiny patent shoes and purses and (oh, God) jewelry, for makeup, for color wheels and no-pink-does-NOT-go-with-red.

I just didn't expect it to begin so fast.

Rosey 2, Tooth Fairy, 0

2009-05-22T11:00:00.005-03:00

About a year ago Rosey fell going up the stairs and knocked her tooth out. The ensuing drama made me glad we'd had our share of tooth-problems. It had to be all smooth sailing from here on, right?

RIGHT?

*sigh*

One of Rosey's happy things the last few days has been that her tooth is loose. Her first (honestly) loose tooth! It was a BIG DEAL.

Then she ate an apple today. And swallowed her tooth. Again.

*sigh*

The tooth fairy celebrates ALL teeth, Rosey.
Even the ones in your tummy.

Honest.

death and obscene messages

2009-05-20T22:17:00.004-03:00

Seen today in a drive-thru: Spanking shiny new red truck with giant decals across the back that read: Ditch The Bitch and Go Goosin'! I was aghast.
Explaining death to kids, even with lots of resources (thank you, funeral home!) and patience is a very hard thing. Both B and I are guilty of saying 'He's gone' which Rosey has decided means he could come back if we'd only let him. (We are so mean.) - so then I have to use blunt phrases like 'Papa's body' and 'Never going to see him again' which makes B flinch, and then I feel I'm being unkind and wounding him on purpose.
We have a very sad little boy. Cass has been through death before with a dog and cat, so he understands the permanence of it, but he's never been through a visitation before. So I've been trying to describe what's going to be happening. (Bear flinches.)
Visitation tomorrow, funeral Friday. We're going to take the kids to the visitation and decide about the funeral afterwards.
Thank you, all of you, for your sweet messages of condolence. Y'all are wonderful people.

the crickets chirp louder tonight

2009-05-19T19:33:00.008-03:00

This morning was chilly and gray, with a heavy dew. I thought about laying a fire but held off for a few hours, opting instead to put on a sweatshirt and socks and go outside, sniffing in the good smells of fresh-cut grass and green wood, of twining, growing things and hearing the birds chirrup excitedly.

When the sun came out it was hurt-your-eyes dazzling. Scouring the last of the drabs away, it warmed the valley and shot sparkles through the river, making even the cormorants seem majestic and beautiful. The apple tree out back is beginning to show hints of pink where the flowers will be, and the watershed is a vibrant, almost lurid green - if you listen closely, you can almost hear the eager shoots shoving up through the muck into the light of day.

A day full of promise, of thinking of projects-yet-to-come, of dreaming about getting your hands dirty in the good black earth.

I don't know what the weather was like the day my father in law was born, but he -true to his personality! - chose a spectacular day to make his exit.

Rest in peace, Freeman. I like to think the clouds opened up and he went away on the sunlight and the blossom-scented breeze.

We're all going to miss you, Papa.