Monday, Aug 24, 2009 | Uncategorized |
Saturday, Aug 22, 2009 | Siblings |
Okay, I think I may be more excited about my brother’s wedding than my brother and my soon-to-be-sister-in-law are. They’ve been together seven years already, own some property together, you know, they are already basically married, but still. Kevin and I have six siblings between us, and my brother is the first of our collective siblings to get married (and our wedding was already a decade ago). I have three brothers, and Chach is closest in age to me; we are seventeen months apart, and from six months on he was pretty much as big as me, and even though we were kinda rivals for a few of those years, I love him like anything and always have. So I’m throwing my imaginary hat into the air and whooping it up because I’m sooooo excited!
Here’s some footage of our humble wedding prep, which mostly involves Albus (in these pictures). First up: hair cut (the photo was taken halfway through). After watching him struggling to breathe through his sopping mass of curls during swim lessons, my fingers got itchy. Result: shorter hair, actual seeing of the eyes. CJ wanted a hair cut too. But his curls are too cute to sacrifice, so we just pretended to cut it. Today, Grandma Alice arrived with new clothes for the big kids’ choir; Albus’s will double as his wedding outfit. I couldn’t get a straight shot out of the lad, but you know, I like it that way. He is who he is: my fast-talking, sweet/serious, noisy/quiet, silly and dear son. I love how Apple-Apple managed to keep the fine and serious pose requested by the photographer (me).
Okay, kids, onto the wedding! We’ll be cheering in our finest.
Thursday, Aug 20, 2009 | Local Food, Summer |
Trying to get up in school-ready time, which is silly because we still have two and a half weeks of summer vacation left; but I want to remind myself that I can do it. And I can. It just makes me want to go to bed earlier. Unfortunately, the children are not going to bed earlier. If anything, they seem incapable of falling asleep before 9:30 at night, no matter when we tuck them in (perhaps we should end the two-week-long sleepover going on in Albus’s room; Apple-Apple is in his loft bed, because she kicks, and Fooey and Albus have been sharing a mattress on the floor, which leaves only enough floorspace for masses of dumped Lego. My thorough cleaning of several weekends ago was decimated almost instantly). Naturally, no matter how active our days, the children still wake up at approximately the same time. This morning it wasn’t their fault. We were all woken by an apparent earthquake, the entire house shuddering on its foundations. It’s still going on. Endless road construction.
:: :: ::
Tomato season seems to be starting only just now; at any rate, my favourite savoury fruit hasn’t been offered in bulk yet at either of our local food sources. Tomatoes loom, and part of me is questioning whether I’ll find the energy and time to do the work when the bushels start rolling in. (I think I can, I think I can). It feels like I haven’t been putting up food at the same pace as last summer, or perhaps not with the same fresh enthusiasm. Because we’ve already filled one freezer, so obviously we are putting food up: mainly blueberries, apricots, peas, and yesterday evening Kevin grated a ton of zucchini (for baking). There is no doubt if we had to live on what I’ve put up, we would not survive; but why am I thinking in these all-or-nothing terms? Instead, why not appreciate how second-nature putting up food has become? Not vast quantities, but little bits here and there. It does add up, and will make our winter more flavourful. There is so much summer bounty, and no way to preserve it perfectly. The way of all things perishable.
Cheery, huh.
This post has been written in the midst of serving children breakfasts and trying to meet their variety of demands (poorly, due to focussing on this posting instead). And now it’s time to hop on bicycles and head to swim lessons.
Tuesday, Aug 18, 2009 | Swimming, Writing |
Up early to prepare for another round of daily swim lessons, our last of the summer. This time, CJ and I will be in the water, too, which complicates matters. My planning brain has been working overtime to calculate what combination of changerooms, snacks, and locks will precipitate maximum smoothness of transitions, but the success of the venture really comes down to patience and flexibility–mine. Today’s weather is calling for morning thundershowers. And we have no vehicle at our disposal. This is your mission, should you choose to accept.
(I do).
Everyone’s still sleeping. Our schedule has gotten later and later on both ends of the day. I find myself looking forward to more routine, less lazing about. It’s a fine line.
I like getting up early when it’s quiet. Maybe I should rethink my office set-up (currently in CJ’s bedroom), so I could use my work computer in the early morning.
Thinking outloud.
Here’s what I wanted to get down on paper (virtually): CJ walked down the back porch steps yesterday. I nearly screamed, discovering him mid-stride. No holding onto the railing or anything. If I want to go there, I can make myself feel downright woozy imagining him doing this without me present and able to catch him should he stumble. Because even though he can, it doesn’t mean he can with consistency. Yikes. The risks these babies take as they grow and develop, and us with them.
It’s been a year since I started this blog, and it’s with gratitude that I note this. How thankful I am to have this scrapbook of our daily lives. But here are two unexpected gifts it’s given me: better photo-taking skills, and more bravery in talking about my writing life, warts and all.
Thanks to everyone who’s read along.
Sunday, Aug 16, 2009 | Photos |
Apparently, I stopped taking photos at this point. But these few made it onto the camera, and I send them forth into the crowded perpetuity that is Blogland. The first were taken while we were waiting for photographs, just goofing around under the tent. It stopped raining and the sun burst forth just as the ceremony began. Verklempt, I was.
Trying to get up in school-ready time, which is silly because we still have two and a half weeks of summer vacation left; but I want to remind myself that I can do it. And I can. It just makes me want to go to bed earlier. Unfortunately, the children are not going to bed earlier. If anything, they seem incapable of falling asleep before 9:30 at night, no matter when we tuck them in (perhaps we should end the two-week-long sleepover going on in Albus’s room; Apple-Apple is in his loft bed, because she kicks, and Fooey and Albus have been sharing a mattress on the floor, which leaves only enough floorspace for masses of dumped Lego. My thorough cleaning of several weekends ago was decimated almost instantly). Naturally, no matter how active our days, the children still wake up at approximately the same time. This morning it wasn’t their fault. We were all woken by an apparent earthquake, the entire house shuddering on its foundations. It’s still going on. Endless road construction.
Up early to prepare for another round of daily swim lessons, our last of the summer. This time, CJ and I will be in the water, too, which complicates matters. My planning brain has been working overtime to calculate what combination of changerooms, snacks, and locks will precipitate maximum smoothness of transitions, but the success of the venture really comes down to patience and flexibility–mine. Today’s weather is calling for morning thundershowers. And we have no vehicle at our disposal. This is your mission, should you choose to accept.
A few images from our week: the ever-classic diaper and rubber boots combo; a Playmobil scene awaiting post-bedtime discovery on the piano keys (and how apropos, as we look forward to the wedding of “Uncle Chach and B” this coming weekend); the girls and their hair (I’ve never been much of a girlie girl, but it feels like I’m living out a little girl’s fantasy of playing with gorgeous dollies when I brush and braid their tresses); Fooey wanting to stand on the tree stump by the porch, then deciding perhaps she prefers firm land; and Albus post-emergency room, with the gash on his forehead tidily closed. He and Kevin were up till midnight waiting and then being treated, but did he sleep in this morning? You know the answer to that.