Love for the Little Guy

I know some stay-at-home parents who would rather not attempt to brave public places with two youngsters in tow. There's the constant danger of an unpredictable meltdown in the grocery store check-out, the need to maintain a heightened sense of "potty radar", and the sacred nap-time that is not to be altered or messed with. Us, we've never been slaves to nap times, for better or for worse. We go places we want to go, when we want to go there (within reason). Sadie and Amelia have always been cooperative car and stroller sleepers and are no worse for wear. I admit there are times when I question why I attempted this errand or that with the kids, but for the most part, I'm glad I'm not on house arrest 5 days a week. We have to get out and about to maintain sanity. There are places to go and people to see.

But the other day, for reasons unknown, I thought to myself "I think it's time Sadie had a Happy Meal." Go ahead and judge. McDonald's is disgusting. But I figure most kids are eventually going to have an experience with a mcnugget and a playplace, and the first time might as well be under my supervision. Kind of like when you drink alcohol underage for the first time, some parents offer up their liquor cabinet just so they know the shenanigans are taking place as safely as possible under their own roof. So we went to McDonalds. The playplace was in a separate room all together, one with some of the poorest air quality I have ever experienced. Zero ventilation. It smelled like a cross between a locker room and a Diaper Genie. Hand Foot and Mouth disease was practically visible on the tube slides. Sadie declined a play. I breathed a sigh of relief. We wasted no time getting out of there once the Happy Meal was consumed.

Thank GOODNESS, on days where we need to get out somewhere, thank GOODNESS for places like Drumroaster Coffee in nearby Cobble Hill. We live in a fairly rural area and the pickin's are slim. I miss living in Vancouver where there are SO many unique little cafes and eateries to choose from. Sadie refers to Drumroaster as the "Robot Shop" because there's a metal sculpture of a robot creature outside. Inside is a funky, family-owned, CLEAN coffee shop with character and pride. They roast their own beans and build their business based on exposing the industry involved in this process. It's kid-friendly, design-minded, and flavour-focused. And I like their packaging so much that I even keep the empty bags of coffee beans when we're done with them.

The girls and I are so grateful for places like this. More accurately, I am so grateful for places like these because they keep me from going crazy at home and the girls are grateful when I don't go crazy at home. An extra strong espresso (last time I had a triple-shot), minus the infectious diseases on Monday afternoons that are never-ending? Yes, that sounds about right.

five months. just like that.

Amelia is gettin' her chub on.

I am hanging on tightly to her babyness, as this second time around, I know just how fleeting a phase it really is.

sure, i still curse the 2 a.m. siren song from her crib as I stumble through the darkness. And of course I don't mean "siren song" as in enticing or appealing. I mean "siren song" as in SIREN.

Last night there was some confusion. The kind of confusion that can only be caused by being the over-tired parents of an infant. Usually by 2 or 3:00, Amelia is sleeping in bed with me. But last night, little Sadie found her way to our room first and jumped into bed. I woke up around 3:40 and heard a baby crying. Scott was pacing our room, half asleep, trying to locate the source of the crying. I became confused. Where was Amelia? What time is it? Scott was clearly very confused. The lights came on. Head-count in bed. Where's the baby? WHERE'S THE BABY?!?!! Oh! Oh. She's in her crib, she's in her room. She's fine, she's fine. Scott please go get her.

So he brings her back to me and we snuggle in. I begin to drift back to sleep. WAIT!! My eyes snap open. Where is Scott? He's not back in bed yet which can only mean one thing......FRIDGE RAID. Except he has a blood test in the morning and is supposed to have been fasting since last night.

"SCOTT!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" I yell into the dark stillness of the house. (I don't really even have to ask. I can practically hear his esophagus working).

"HAVING A DRINK OF MILK," comes the reply.

"DON'T DRINK ANYTHIIIIIIINNNNNNG!!!!!!!"

"WHY??............Oh. Dammit!"

In PEI they call midnight snacks "bed-lunch". Scott has been a bed-luncher for as long as I've known him. The way things are going lately, I figure we might as well just become a nocturnal family.

We could have pet owls.

Pills to swallow and the April report

Uh oh. I can't believe it's been a month since I've written anything. Is anyone still out there?

You would think that now that I'm done work and am home full time with Sadie, there would be more time to blog and sew and paint and do all the things I planned on doing. But I haven't even started doing my taxes yet.

Well I guess the best thing to do would be a monthly re-cap.

On St. Patrick's day I was on my way to a site visit with my colleague and my cell phone rang. It was my doctor's office calling. The receptionist said I needed to come in right away and that there were a few issues on my 18 week ultrasound. I asked what kind of issues. She said that "things are just looking really thin down there. Also, you are done work as of today."

So I scrapped the site visit and was in the doctor's office by 1:00. The problem is that the scar from my C-Section with Sadie is very thin and they are not sure whether or not I will be able to carry this baby to term. So I was taken off work and told to take it as easy as possible and we'll just see how everything goes. There is a real possibility that the baby could be born very early!

Here is a photo at 24 weeks...

Then, amidst all this pregnancy stuff, we lost a beloved member of our household.

A few weeks ago, we suddenly noticed that our cat had lost a pile of weight. Then she pretty much stopped eating altogether. I took the poor girl in for a check-up and she wound up overnight in the animal hospital hooked up to an IV. CHA-CHING. They ran some tests but couldn't come up with a diagnosis. CHA-CHING, CHA-CHING. She was dying of an undetermined illness.

A couple hundred bucks, we figured - even without any firm answers.

Think again. Here is our vet bill:

(Allow me to choke on the pint of ice cream I am elbow deep in)

So we were sent packing with that pill to swallow as well as a bunch of white ones for the cat to swallow. Shaaa, RIGHT. Who has ever known a cat who will voluntarily take a little white antibiotic? So the experimentation began. At 11:00 one night, I heard Scott in the kitchen with what sounded like a power tool:

The assortment of scraps you see in this photo include ham, cheerios, white pills and cat treats. Nothing was working so he actually cut a cat treat in half, drilled a shallow pit in each side, and planted the pill flush inside the hole. How he accomplished this with such expert precision is a mystery to me. Then he stuck the two halves back together with some water and a couple of minutes in the freezer. I don't think we should try to cross the border with these anytime soon.

Yes I know.

You are speechless.

So was I.

Have You Ever Heard Of Such A Thing?

Did this experimental method work?

What do you think?

Of course not.

Someway, somehow Val still knew her meds were in there.

So poor kitty was running out of options to recover from whatever was ailing her. Could have been an infection, could have been thyroid problems, could have been cancer.

We gave her all the attention she could get in her last few days and when her eyesight started to fail, we knew it was time to let her go. We had to put her down on Saturday morning. It was so so sad. I miss her so much. Sadie said to me this morning: "You miss the kitty mommy?""Yes", I said. "Don't worry mommy, Daddy go and get her and bring her home to you." Gulp.

(Valentino in her kittenhood)

In Koo & Poppet news, I've shut down the etsy shop temporarily until after the baby is born. But I did squeak in a few last orders, like this "T" tulip pillow and a new piggy named Zoe:

And then of course, there are the on-going home improvements.....here is the current state of the family room....one more week to go:

And one of a little "Rapunzel" (her favourite) for good measure:

And now, while my Rapunzel is still a Sleeping Beauty, I shall have more ice cream....

Pierre the Snowfellow

view from our driveway on Saturday morning

Sadie applauding Pierre's completion

Showing him some genuine love

You can't tell it, but he's beaming from ear to ear

Hazy shade of Summer

A few weeks ago the smoke from the forest fires in BC drifted west and created a hazy orange glow in front of the sun. I spotted this moth on my kitchen window one night and instantly thought of this poem:

Design by Robert Frost

I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,

On a white heal-all, holding up a moth

Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth -

Assorted characters of death and blight

Mixed ready to begin the morning right,

Like the ingredients of a witches' broth -

A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth,

And dead wings carried like a paper kite.

What had that flower to do with being white,

The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?

What brought the kindred spider to that height,

Then steered the white moth thither in the night?

What but design of darkness to appall? -

If design govern in a thing so small.

A quick hello

Oh dear, I confess I have been on a vacay from Blog land. I will be back soon, but wanted to check in briefly and post a few photos.
Truth is, I have been busy eating, drinking (lemonade) and partaking in general merriment. Summer is here people! What are your warm weather plans?

Do you remember your life before the internet?

an early 90s version of Oregon Trail. Who remembers?!


I do.


I was in elementary school. I talked to my friends on phones with long spirally plastic cords. I played "Oregon Trail" on floppy disc (dot matrix display, yeah baby!) and practiced cursive writing in preparation for all those correspondence letters I'd send as an adult. Hey, wait a second....


And get this: my husband grew up in a community so rural that when he was young his family had a "party line", which is a telephone line that is shared by many households, but everyone has a different ring. So the phone would ring in his house, but it might go "bring-br-bring-bring" and be a call for June and Herb down the road, in which case you wouldn't answer. But if it rang "bring-bring-bring....bring-bring-bring" then GADZOOKS, PICK UP. PICK UP!!

I can only imagine the excitement.

But that is neither here nor there (actually it's there). I was talking about the internet. Which I now carry in the palm of my hand. Everywhere. I. Go.

Except today. Today I forgot my precious iphone at home. I just heard your collective gasp. Compose yourself people! My global connection has been temporarily severed and I have been suffering from phantom limb syndrome all day. My colleague at work jokingly allowed me to hold his for a spell, and another person posed the question: "What would happen if the internet just one day.....disappeared?"





Talk about pandemonium. Talk about Y2K/2012 times a Gigabyte!

And then......





No, but seriously, what would happen? Economically, culturally, socially, educationally?



An ancient building form constructed for the storage of "books". Historians refer to it as a "Library."
(Actually this is Louis Kahn's Exeter Library in New Hampshire)

I invite you to paint me some post-web era apocalyptic scenarios my bloggy friends. Or, if you wish, participate in the poll at the top-right hand side of this page!

photo filter

Can anyone guess what this is? (there is no Photoshop involved.....)

And......we're out

Scott, Sadie, Coco and I went to Vancouver yesterday. We immersed ourselves in the sea of red and white that had taken over Robson Street, and walked down to the waterfront to see the cauldron. But other than that, we didn't do anything too "Olympic" like see an event or win a gold medal. HOWEVER, one of us proved to have more star power than the rest. Our skinny, white, terrified little whippet was an apparent celebrity. Dozens of people asked to take photos with her and, trembling, she submitted to the puparazzi. Coco, country mutt though she is, found herself smack in the middle of an international metropolis, bewildered amongst tens of thousands of people. Poor sweet skinny thing.

Pretty soon, Vancouver will feel pretty lonely. The closing ceremony is winding down on TV as I write this (how many more performances can there BE???). I like how they poked fun at the cauldron malfunction of the opening ceremony, afterall, we Canadians don't mind laughing at ourselves now and again. But I wasn't much for Catherine O'Hara's speech. Weird? Or weird? Kind of mean? And how great were the Sochi performances? Moonlit water as a backdrop for an ice rink? Damn.

I may have been skeptical about these games in the beginning. But now, upon their conclusion, what I will remember about them is that the world really did descend on Vancouver for 17 days, in a way that was peaceful, unifying and cheerfully chaotic. It's true, Canadian pride has never been greater, so let's hope this land of loonies, twoonies, and puck-slappers can keep it up. A little enthusiasm, eh!

GOLD RUSH

Burrard Bridge, Vancouver 2006

Without a doubt, as of last Friday, the city of Vancouver is forever changed.

I've enjoyed watching these games more than I had anticipated, and if Sadie were a little older I think we would be making last minute plans to hop on the ferry and take in a piece of the action and the spirit. Some unforgettable moments have occurred there in the past week: Bilodeau, Ricker and tonight, Montgomery. But these moments, golden as they are, are simply that - GOLDen. I just heard on the news that the Canadian Olympic Committee's goal for these games was "to win the most medals". The news is, it ain't gonna happen. 'Cause OH GOD, we'll still be dwelling on our medal count this time next year. And anyway, is this where all the Olympic pride comes from? Has it always been about winning? Maybe the hard and fast answer to this is "DUH", or maybe all this humanity, all this BELIEF is a little misdirected. Is it just me or has 2010 media coverage of sportsmanship and triumph over adversity (whether there's a podium involved or not) been underwhelming at best? The 56th place finisher in the women's 15K pursuit is A PARTICIPANT IN THE OLYMPIC GAMES. Isn't that what matters? Kuddos to ALL the athletes.

I don't mean to be a poo-pooer. In fact I admit to feeling truly patriotic this past week and have even shed a tear or two on behalf of some of our athletes. But let me ask you this: next time you see a crowd of spectators or a mass of people in the streets of downtown Vancouver waving the flags of every country, cheering loudly, embracing each other, spontaneously bursting into song, imagine that instead of celebrating a glorified sporting event, those people were united by some other humanitarian cause....like oh, say, a CURE.

Still, I know sport is more than just a win or a loss. I get it. There's dedication, discipline, blood, sweat and tears, and all these things are deserving of admiration. But at the same time sport is a game, a race, a performance. And without forgetting the importance our society places on entertainment, SPORT can be just that - at least for the millions of spectators.

I think the spirit is wonderful, I really do. And I think it creates a genuine sense of togetherness, for which our world is always better off. I just have a hard time watching someone throw a rock in a curling match and connecting that victory with the unabashed pride and pandemonium going on in the country and all over the world.

Valid? Trite? Cynical?

But who am I to say? These are simply the meandering thoughts of a poppet-making former figure skater who used to have a far-fetched Olympic dream of her own.

What say you? Do you have maple leaves [stars and stripes, union jacks, other national emblem] in your eyes or are you scratching your head too? Oh, what the hell, GO CANADA!

Blue. Green. Gray.

That's all I have to say today.

Rhett Dashwood font - 10,000,000 pt

This is so cool - typography meets landscape.

Rhett Dashwood (great name) is a Creative Director in Melbourne, Australia who created this Google Earth alphabet by searching satellite imagery for geographic landmarks resembling letters. Apparently "K" proved to be the most elusive.

I like "A" the best (runways!)