the snow drifts from here to there

As a child, living in Australia, the snow fascinated me, because in the area I lived, we just didn't get any - EVER.

My Grandma was from England, and as a little girl, all I knew about England was that it was far away, it was green and it was cold - but I also imagined loads of snow all over England during the winter - she was from Devon, down south, probably one of the milder parts of the UK.

I remember my Grandma showing me a picture of herself as a girl. I loved photographs even back then. I loved that I could connect with the past that way and I know I asked many questions. I remember badgering my Grandma to see that photo all the time when a child. But my memory is now fuzzy about its details of that picture, and I fear that its memory is in fact filled with images gathered from the conversations I had with her about her life in England, because I remember the photo depicting her standing on a roadside waiting for her school bus in the snow - but I don't think this was actually the case. I think it was a picture of her standing along a roadside and she had told me that she took that route to school - by bus or by foot I am not quite sure now. I know I asked her about the snow and remember feeling a little disappointed when she said that she could remember it snowing only a few times. I guess I imagined all sorts of fantasies about the snow and wanted her to fill me up with grand stories of winters with snow up to the window sills and having to dig oneself out of the house each morning; snow men and snowball fights and a crackling raging fire to warming her up afterward while she sipped hot cocoa with the wind howling outside.

Well now I have my own snowy memories and photos abound, and for the most part I have enjoyed it while it has lasted. It is going the rapid melt now as the temperatures rise above freezing again - it got down to -18 Tuesday night, which is dangerously low - skin freezes in minutes at -20.

However interesting and captivating the snow was for me, looking out my front window, I have actually been held captive for much of this week, since I am without car.

Ashley drives a Ford Mustang, which failed to live up to the power and durability that the name Mustang might suggest, but nevertheless, we have lived, and have still been able to observe the great white world outside. Among my observations I have noticed the numerous birds. Normally I don't see many, they seem to hide in the wet, and last year there seemed to be a constant stream of rain from November to April. But with clear skies, trees discarded of their foliage and the contrast of gleaming white, the birds and their constant activity became apparent for all to see.

The Blue Jays and Robins stood out along with the ever present chickadees and local crows. But I also saw a Wood Pecker - I hadn't seen one before, so I was very happy about that, even if he were beating out a hole in our tree - I forgave him! The activity of the birds was really quite amazing -flitting from tree to tree and branch to branch, and never once upsetting the glob of snow teetering precariously on the end of an already strained branch.

The sound of the icy crunch reminded me of documentaries I had seen of Ant arctic explorers traipsing through the ice. Never would I have thought to know what that was like from my own experience...in my own town, the silence and the crack and crumble of ice and snow under foot - to slip of black ice and fall flat on my behind - very cartoonish. To feel cliched to make hot chocolate for the kids after they had come in from outside.

I shovelled the drive with joy and determination this week- like I felt I was part of something...what was it? ....connecting with the community by experiencing an aspect of northern living I think?

The heavily pregnant woman across the road has been frantically shovelling snow all week. While everyone seems horrified at the sight of this "poor woman" who "should be resting", she is already two days overdue and is just trying to hurry the baby along...although without success as yet, but her drive is the clearest in the neighbourhood, so her efforts have not been ALL in vain!

Another girl passes our place on her way home from school. Each day this week, she has managed to carry home with her, a large dagger of an icicle. I wonder what she does with them?I suspect they go into her parents deep freeze in the garage.

The only real regret I have is not being able to get out for a drive and see more of my surrounding while covered in the white veil. The snow momentarily transforms all into glorious shapes. I also wonder what the landscape will look like after the big melt. We have already seen one of our own large trees be forever changed by the cold and unforgiving conditions, and I have noticed another large shrub in the yard either under considerable strain from the extra weight bearing down on its limbs or broken in several places. I dread to think what our lawn is like - it didn't take too well after all that work we did over the summer...oh well, the foundation remains to begin anew next spring.

While many of the locals are complaining about the inconveniences brought on by Sundays snowstorm, especially those with kids and jobs to juggle, I won't mind too much if it snows again. For me it is an opportunity to allow the collision of past and present, this generation and that, and also fantasy and reality, so a better understanding can be got through practical and personal experience. Who knows, one day my own children might be showing their Grandchildren the pictures of themselves playing in the snow and filling them up with stories of snowball fights and hot chocolate on cold and blustery evenings.

icy continuation

The snowy excitement and novelty continues for the third day.

It snowed all night Saturday, and so we were greeted with a great blanket of snow Sunday morning. Alex and Olivia were extremely eager to go play in it, but just as we began contemplating going out, some friends phoned to say they would be over to play. It proved too cold for the native Canadians who were either unphased about it or genuinely cold, so we ended having lunch together and afterwards spending another 2 hours outside playing.

It snowed all day, very heavily -almost white-out, and we now have about 45 cms of snow on the ground. Overnight the air got drier and drier and the ground froze solid leaving a powdery fresh lot of snow on the ground and ice underneath.

There was chaos last night with cars spinning out everywhere and then our large tree next to the car park cracked and spit in two, spilling a huge limb into the car park and taking some smaller ones with it. We had to ring emergency services because we thought the tree might topple entirely and fall on the house. The council came and assessed things and put a barricade up so no curious people would wander and end up with a tree on top of them.

This morning the roads were shut down and pre-school was cancelled, Ashley didn’t go to work today either. The Mustang he drives is apparently notorious as a bad icy conditions vehicle - and we aren't exactly seasoned pros when it comes to driving in such conditions. Instead we spent the entire morning, and half the afternoon shopping for proper winter clothes. The kids were ok, I managed to buy them some snow boots on Friday before the rush, and they still fit into the snow suits I got them last year. But Ashley and I had nothing, and after spending the entire day playing out there yesterday my regular shoes were soaked and my yard boot were frozen solid. My fleece jacket and gloves were still wet from the day before too. So we both got waterproof warm winter boots and waterproof gloves, and I got a proper warm water resistant jacket. It was so much better.

The shoes were the most difficult to find as most of the stores in town were sold out. I got the last pair of winter boots in the store, so it was somewhat miraculous hat they happened to be in my size!

Since we have been home today, I have been shovelling the frozen driveway and Ashley has been trying to chop down the suspect limbs hanging on the tree. It is suppose to get colder tomorrow, even as low as -5 during the day and -9 at night.

It only snowed sporadically and lightly today, with moments of blue sky. We really feel that we have had a real Canadian experience now– even though the locals tell me that this weather is not normal for Ladner. The streets were disgusting when we did venture out today – like a bomb had gone off. It was interesting watching everyone stagger out, stunned and amazed by the landscape - it was so excellent. They were also fascinated by the tree and a couple of neighbours had ben standing outside talking when it came down right before their eyes.

The snow seemed to bring people out to chat. They shared their surprise about the snow; wanted to know what WE thought of it, since we were from Australia. They talked about their snow experiences from the day and past snows and how this snow and the conditions compared to other parts of Canada where they had been or had lived. The town was abuzz, I think that is the most enjoyable aspect of it! It is nice to have something that draws people out of their houses to socialise in the cold months. I hope we gat another good bout of snow - preferably on the weekend again, so all can enjoy it.

crossed wires

Alex asked me yesterday "what is your favourite animal?" He believes he has settled on becoming a vet when he grows up, "a doctor of animals that swim and animals that don't swim".
After mentioning some animals off the top of my head, Alex tells me he would like to see a baby koala. I asked him if he remembered the ones that frequented our yard in Australia; apparently he did. I told him there were no Koalas in Canada, unless they happened to have some in a zoo - the Vancouver zoo doesn't.
Then Alex started asking all these questions about Australia and then told me what he remembered about living there. Then he asked if we will go back there ever. "Maybe", I told him.
Alex was so excited about this possibility that his enthusiasm ran away like a horse bolting from an unsecured stable. Now he has simply become obsessed with everything Australian and life with us living back in Australia. He has asked us about our favourite things about Australia, what we liked best when we lived in Australia and what things we can take back with us when we [hypothetically] moved back there.
Before we moved, some wonderful friends of ours made us a little home video of a day we spent with them at our old place. It was just us hanging out as a family, having a lunch with our friends and showing what our home was like while the kids played in the yard. We love that movie, it was the best thing anyone could have done for us as a farewell present. Alex loves watching it, and wanted to see it again yesterday. This time he announced that he wanted to arrange his room exactly as it had been in the "green house". He also noticed that the 2.5 year old in the picture [him] had a flat hair style. During the movie he ran out and came back with a hair brush; "brush my hair flat" he demanded, "my hair wasn't spiky in Australia." When he was a baby his hair grew straight up like a Mohawk, much to the amusement of most people, so I told him that his hair was also VERY spiky in Australia. Ooh, then spiky hair was suddenly still alright (eye roll).
I was a little horrified when he told me that he had announced our apparent departure back to Australia to his pre-school teacher, who initially got the impression that we were leaving immediately. But Alex told me he assured her that he would see out the pre-school year - gee, thanks! I guess I have some record straightening to do Monday morning.
It seemed that Alex imagines that if ever we go back to Australia, life will return exactly the same way as when we left. So I thought I should explain some things to him, starting with reality.
- "Things CAN never and WILL never go back exactly as they were before we left. Things change, people change, you have changed, and circumstances change"..
- "There are many things we love about Australia, friends and family being number one. There are some things that you love about Canada that are not present in Australia...like, snow".
"What?....No snow! But why?"
"It is too warm in most parts of Australia, in Adelaide we NEVER saw snow."
Alex loves snow.
- "There is no Halloween" [unless, of course you, live in Alice Springs, but I didn't want to complicate the point].
"Why?"
"It is not an Australian custom".
"Can we still take our costumes to Australia?"
"Errr....yes, I suppose so" [that was not really the point].
"Will I see my pre-school friends in Australia?"
- "Not unless they happen to visit, which I doubt".
"Well, we can write to them or talk to them on the phone?"
"I guess..."
Last night it began to snow, it snowed buckets. In fact, it is still snowing - there is possibly a foot of snow over Ladner - the town where it "never snows". The locals have assured us that the amount of snow is very unusual for this area. One guy in his 50's couldn't remember such a big snow and had lived here all his life. Consequentially, Australia was only mentioned about 10 times today, instead of 2,000 times as it had been in the past 48 hours.
The snow really is beautiful. I know the North American readers can tell me the negative aspects of snow, and I know it can get pretty gruesome on the roads, and the snow shovelling is an awful chore, but unlike the rain, which darts from the sky like arrows being plucks from God's bow, the snow flakes in the street lights swirl and dance, caught up in a symphony orchestrated by the wind current as it falls, resting on the ground, the trees, the rooftops; almost as if each flake were set down by gentle loving hands.
The landscape soft and white, Christmas lights beacon brighter; exaggerated by the contrast of dominating white...and there is a silence, like the fog, as if winter is saying "hush now, it is time to sleep" as it pulls a neat fluffy white blanket over the restful earth.
There will be snowmen and snow angels made, snow balls fights and perhaps tobogganing in Diefenbaker Park...yes, not much mention of Australia while the snow remains.
Should we ever go back, I feel certain that such snowy memories will be romanticised, idealised, perhaps even yearned for, but will forever be etched in precious memory - child AND parent alike.

an oldie but a goodie

I thought I would add a rare picture of me to mark the occasion, since the chances of seeing me dolled up are usually as likely as sighting a Dodo Bird....err... yes, this is me looking dolled up HA (oh dear).

My usual get-up involves a daggy pair of jeans paired with an over-stretched t-shirt and a rather raggedy looking navy blue polo fleece jacket with "Amsterdam" emblazoned on the front - a gift from Ashley after one of his trips away, you can see me in that jacket from mid-September until the end of May... assuming it makes it until next May.

So what inspired us to shake the moth balls off the Sunday best? Well, it was my birthday today, but Ashley took me out for a pre-birthday dinner on Saturday night- minus the kids.

The restaurant he took me to was recommended by Ashley's boss - Seasons Hill Top Bistro- which sits on the highest point in Queen Elizabeth Park in Vancouver. Ashley's boss recommended the restaurant as being middle of the road- mediocre, but assured Ashley that the food and the view made it well worth it. Well! We certainly got a taste of how the other 10% live.

The food was divine; the view overlooking the city of Vancouver and mountains was sensational, the service was impeccable. The decor; warm, tasteful and classic and the atmosphere was like adding the perfect frame around a great piece of art.

The prices were more upper than middle, from our limited experience, but well worth it for a special occasion...so, I would hate to unwittingly book myself into a place "the boss" considered swank. Anyway, it was a great evening, but it went far to quickly.

On Sunday I was treated again, and it STILL wasn't my real birthday yet.

I had dropped hints for a visit to a day spa - something any mother would likely appreciate. I hadn't been to one in years and Ashley isn't exactly known for taking hints (he hears them, he just chooses not to take them...and I am not very subtle!).

Well he did take the hint this time and I was taken, under a veil of secrecy to an undisclosed location for an unspecified reason. It was a day spa called Aquae Sulis - it was great, just the ticket in fact. The establishment even gave me a little rose hand cream as a birthday gift.

Tonight I was made to hide in the office to the tune of rustling and rummaging on the other side of the door. When I was finally allowed to re-enter there were balloons and party plates and snacks. They then went off to collect a special dinner from the Mexican restaurant in town, and they had even managed to sneak in a cake. It was all very lovely. The kids love birthdays, they love singing the song - very cute. I have been very spoilt - from everyone. I feel very blessed today. Thank you.

Alex's little friend Riley co-incidentally asked my how old I was today. When I told him it was my birthday, I don't think he believed me, but you should have seen his face when I told him I was 33...I may as well have said 133! Hilarious, he then proceeded to tell me that his Dad was fifty-thousand years old - I am sure he'd be wrapped to hear that.

I am excited about what this year will bring. Ashley and I often reflect and pinch ourselves with this question, "who would have thought 5 years ago/10 years ago/20 years ago, we would be sitting here doing this"? Well, certainly 5 years ago I would have thought you were nuts if you'd told me I would be a stay at home Mum living in Canada with my two kids". Huh?

Anything can happen - that is the joy of life. We really don't know what is around the corner, so we may as well just roll with it. Best wishes to you all. XXX

The hard stuff

You know that saying "do not put off until tomorrow what you could do today?" Well for me that saying is like a thorn in my side.
Take parenting for instance: for me parenting is having to confront every single one of my weaknesses, failings in life, and fears. Wanting your child to succeed in this world, means having to push ones vulnerable self out there and ride the surf with them as they flounder and flap about in an effort to get their sea legs, because that is what life is really like, the every changing, rolling, lulling, turbulent, threatening, unpredictable tranquil sea.
Alex has two little friends who come over to play, but recently one of these boys has been increasingly aggressive toward Alex and neither he nor I are equipped to know how to handle the situation.
This kid has been wrestling Alex to the ground, which Alex hates. I have asked this kid not to do that, as has Alex. I have explained to the boys dad that he doesn't like the wrestling to much and I have heard that parent talk to the boy in question about it - but the wrestling continues.
Now Alex has revealed that this boy is pulling his hair in class - hard. I mentioned it to the teacher, mainly because I wanted to know if Alex was provoking this kid and I wanted to know how he plays with the others in his class - they were mystified and hadn't seen any such behaviour or arguing between the pair to warrant closer monitoring while they played, but they told me they would keep an eye out.
Today however, Alex comes to me in the playground after pre-school saying that the said kid won't let him join in the game with the other boys. I suggested that he find someone else to play with, but Alex was adamant that he wanted to play with this particular boy - his friend.
Even after the other boys went home Alex once again attempted to play with the same boy, but this time I was watching. Alex started climbing up a play structure to where this boy was standing only to have the boy's foot pushed into his chest preventing Alex from reaching him and then knocking him backward to the ground - my aching heart.
Alex then wandered back dejected and looking sadly to the ground. I went straight to him.
"Is he being mean to you?"
"Yes" .... Alex starts to sob.
"Don't play with him if he is treating you like that"
"But I want to play with him".
"But he is being nasty to you".
"But I want to play with him".

I feel that enough is enough and we begin the walk home.
"I know but he is not being very nice and we don't treat our friends like that. Find someone else to play with in future".
"No, I just want to play with him"
"Why Alex? He is not being very nice to you. Perhaps you should ask him what his problem is".
"No. Next time he comes over you tell him I don't like that".
"I don't think we will be asking him over again if he continues to treat you that way".
Crying, then sits on the ground.
I get down to his level and ask "Did he hurt your feelings when he pushed you away."
(nods)
"Well, I don't know why he is acting like that. I don't mind you playing with him if he treats you properly, he seems to have a nice family, but he can't come to play if he is going to be like that. It is my job to look after you, that is what Mummy's do and his behaviour is not ok. Do you understand?"
Clearly I have missed the point, because he doesn't understand. He just keeps crying. I know he is lonely here. He know so few people. I recognise his desperation to fit in, to feel accepted and to have friends, but I am unwilling for him to be pushed around like that. I know they are just little kids, but learned patterns of behaviour have lasting effects, and I don't want Alex learning that you make and keep friends by putting up with crap and disrespect, or by submitting to bullies - no way!
"Why don't we ask another boy to come over and play?"
"No I want [him] to come over. I don't want anyone else."
"Are you scared to have someone new over?"
silence....."I only want [him] or no one."
"Fine, no one is coming over then, because he is not coming over while he continues to behave that way toward you".
We walk the rest of the way in silence. As we near the door Alex pipes up "Yes. I would like some one else to come over to play". He mentions a few people then settles on one. He is a boy I have seen Alex playing with in the park. I have even spoken to his Mum a little.
Alex suddenly seems happy and excited about the prospect of someone else coming to play. Of course I haven't asked his child's parent yet, so I hope she is agreeable.
But I also need to say something to the other boy's parent. It is our turn to have him over to play....What do I say? How do I say it? I am a bumbling idiot at the best of times....but I have never done this before, and no one ever did that for me....How will that parent feel with what I have to say? I need some help here.
I was thinking that I should speak to the parent in private and mention my concerns. Ask the parent if his son has voiced any concerns about Alex and then suggest that we take a break from the play dates between them for a while (sigh).
Of course this is harder for me to say than it sounds. I have wanted to say something for a week now, but have managed to avoid the parent, thanks to the terrible weather that sent everyone scrambling for their cars after school.... but after today's display, I feel that it would be irresponsible of me to allow this behaviour to continue any further. Any thoughts would be most welcome.

We've all got a life.

I was in hell's prior residence the other day- the supermarket - minding my own business and unloading my grocery cart. The kids were good - although it did take threats and bribery to get that level of co-operation.

Halfway through unloading my cart a woman stood behind me in line. The cashier, a slight woman in her late 30's of Asian origin, with a very prominent accent, politely informed the woman that her register's lane light was off and so she was not taking anymore customers. The woman nodded and moved on. A little later the same thing happened, this time the person being asked to move on looked a little annoyed, furrowed her brow, but moved away without a word.

Halfway through bagging my groceries, yet another woman approached the register and began unloading her cart; oblivious to the dead light at the top of the register. The customer was a large woman in her late 30's, with a thick English accent, a boofy shag of golden blond hair, and a big brightly painted mouth; her stature appeared to loft over both me and the cashier.

Once again the cashier was forced to stop what she was doing to politely inform the customer that her register was closed; a gesture that inspired a barrage of abuse and accusation onto the poor cashier.

"Where is the sign to say you are closed?"

Cashier points to the dimmed light above her register.

"How the hell am I supposed to see THAT? WHERE IS YOUR SIGN?"

"No sign only light".

"Well I have to pick up my son from school, can't you just let me through"?

Looking at the woman's overladen cart, the cashier shrugs, pastes a regretful smile on her face and says "Sorry".

Yelling now, "So YOU are willing to have ME be late in picking up my son AND you haven't even bothered to put out your $*?!'n sign? I can't believe you! Halfway through a customer and NO SIGN. That is insane, how bloody STUPID!"

I was shocked - such unnecessary behaviour. What was the cashier supposed to do? Cashiers must get that all the time, I thought to myself...crap treatment from customers. I know I have in the past when I worked in stores. It is so unfair.

The cashier, meanwhile, continued serving me. She maintained her politeness and professionalism, but she was quiet, seemingly hurt and embarrassed by what had just taken place. I would have been too.

"Your kids very cute", she said, more to break the uncomfortable silence than anything else. "I wish I had daughter".

"Thank you. You have a son? " I asked her.

"Yes. Two", she replied.

silence.... "Then you probably have a son to pick up from school too."

She looked up momentarily, briefly catching my gaze, then smiled before going back to the task at hand, "Yes", she said, "I already five minute late".

This interaction stuck with me. We are often so caught up with out own lives and needs that we fail to consider another person's situation, requirements, feelings and even the day they might have had that might have caused them to break.

I was on the receiving end of a disgruntled elderly customer two weeks prior. He had sent a torrent of foul mouthed venom my way, because my kids were making too much noise while we both waited at the same cashiers station. He verbally abused my kids and then he started on me and my apparent incompetency as a parent. I don't know what was going on with him, but his unjustified attack had me seething for hours afterward, while he probably shuffled off home either feeling satisfied and lighter having just off loaded all his pent up anger in a bout of self-righteous grandstanding or perhaps he felt worse after releasing the poisons darts of his soul.

Flip the card over and consider this humanity salvaging observation.... my hair stylist was telling me that HE was in the supermarket this week and witnessed a mother doing her shopping with an hysterical screaming child strapped in the toddler seat. As he watched, the mother broke down in tears - she could take no more. He said that his heart just broke for her, as did mine when I heard that story. I have been there too. The hair stylist then went on to say that an elderly woman approached the mother; they didn't appear to know each other, but the elderly woman knew what the mother needed in that moment. She took put her arm around the mother and spoke quietly to her. The mother then walked to the other side of the cashiers station and sat down on the seats. The elderly woman pushed the shopping cart to the side and took the screaming child out of the seat speaking calmly as she did so. The baby continued to cry, but the old lady was not affronted, she just let the mother sit quietly for a minute or two so the mother could muster the strength and composure continue on.

I think if someone had done that for me I would probably have cried harder knowing that someone cared, that someone saw my humanity through the crumbling facade of my being.

Thank God for the dear souls who can momentarily put aside their own agendas and distractions in life, to recognise the needs of others, for things are not always what they seem. Thank God for people like that elderly woman who not only recognised, but chose to stretch out an experienced hand to firmly suggest that tired mother take a break. Life is complicated, there are many layers and reasons why to every single thing we do and how we react. We all have stressors...we all have lives of our own. We have choices, and among those choices is how we respond to fellow human beings.

swimming and other winter stuff

Yes, its that time of year over here in Canada- blowing a gale, plummeting temperatures, rain in sheets...and even mountain snow; winters icy hand is flexing its fingers for the strangle hold. Therefore, it is also the perfect time to drag out those dreaded bathers....right? Of course I am right!
I hate the gym...BORING. I have tried to like it; kidded myself that the experience was exhilarating, and waited in vain for that adrenalin rush that "people" (these supposed people never have names) get after a vigorous workout.

I have bought my fair share of annual gym memberships over the years, and even the best deals end up being a waste of money after the honeymoon period is over - although the best intentions were in place at the time (read: idealistic and wishful thinking).

I have attended a variety of fitness classes... I wish I had someone to go with me; motivate me..... GUILT me into going, hold me to my lack lustre fitness commitment.
But I tend to get bored with the prancing around on the spot, abusive drill Sargent's barking orders out front and the obligatory mirrored walls (they alone can send one screaming and declaring never to return).

I enjoy riding my bike outdoors, but when the weather turns nasty I tend to morph into Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz - muttering "there's no place like home". I guess I would rather engage in back breaking hard work than the monotony of the gym...it is such a sterile environment. At least with house painting or dirt shoveling you can see the fruits of your labour, the fitness benefits are just a bonus i.e my house is a sprightly shade of green AND look, I have killer abs....well, IF I had 20 houses to paint in a row maybe, but I did notice a considerable difference.

It has been 4 months since that intense flurry of enthusiastic gusto and I am not proud of the jelly-like proportions that I have once again returned too. I am sure the relative inactivity is also playing havoc on my mood, which appears also to mirror the weather: severe cold snaps, increasingly prevalent patterns of the dark and gloomy, with brief sunny breaks.

I have heard about SAD or seasonally affected depression, in fact, I am fairly sure I had a bad bout of it last year. So, if nothing else, I want to stave THAT off right here and now.
Ashley practically pushed me out the door last night and I thank him for doing that. I get the guilts when I take time out for myself, so a gentle encouraging nudge is very much appreciated.
I intended to do laps (not sure if you remember my last disastrous laps attempt, if not see THE ATHLETE - July 7th, it is a story that reeks of the pathetic).

This time I went in slow, I did learn that much from the last experience. I think I did 7 laps and was already getting bored, when a woman asked if I was there for aqua aerobics, which was about to begin. No...but suddenly "Yes". I joined in and persisted for the entire hour, it was great. The pool has it as a drop-in class, twice a week, so you don't have to pay for a bunch of classes up front - just show up - that is my kind of fitness class. Lets see how long I can keep the momentum of the fitness regime up THIS time, I am taking bets....By the way, I won't be at the Thursday class, I am getting my hair cut...yeah the first one since that disastrous one I wrote about back in July. Hmmmm, July - laugh at my expense month.

Why do I never have any luck with kids in shops?

We have just had the Remebrance Day long weekend. It began well enough intentioned. We went to the local Girls and Boys Club and shared a pancake breakfast to honour the nation's soldiers; both fallen and serving. After that we had to tend to a fallen soldier of our own.

We went to Ikea- a whole battleground in itself- from the tactical advancements made in order to secure one of the few remaining parking spots, without rousing the suspicions of the circling "enemy", who are looking for the same. Then there are the navigational skills required to locate possible ojects of interest....walls and walls, alleys, corridors - display after display, rack after rack of heavy artilery and inconspicous weapons of mass destruction to the credit rating. But in the end, it was one of least hostile objects that was to strike the final crucial blow, sending us panicked with bleeding wounded in our arms.

Ok, enough of the melodramas....Olivia tripped, knocked her head hard on a low TV table, blood immediately gushed from the wound sending a red river down her face. Carrying a bloodied screaming child through a shop is not the greatest feeling, nevertheless, we got her to emergency and were relieved to learn tht her wound was fairly minor. She had a large goose egg on her scalp and a small puncture wound that is now lost in her hair, but she is otherwise ok. What a relief! I know I made light of it, but we were freaked out at the time. When I pulled her hair back, immediately after the incident, so much blood was escaping from the raised area that I thought she had partially scalped herself - hence teh panicked dash to the hospital. Better to be safe than sorry I guess. The people at BC Children's were fantastic - lets hope we will never have to use them again. As for Ikea...it's not going anywhere.

unfortunate jobs

Today the rain unrelentlessly pummelled the earth. I watched people brace themselves before submitting their bodies to the mercy of the heavens. They ducked for cover, and raced haphazardly toward the nearest dry safe haven, as if they were under attack by enemy fire; an experience that was destined to leave them both drenched and shivering.

While I fiddled with the car thermostat, in an effort to dry my clothes and warm my body enough so as not to chip the remaining enamel off my violently chattering teeth, I noticed one poor bugger who I have longed pitied -

the sign shaker for Little Caesar's Pizza.

We had these poor unfortunate souls in Australia too, although they worked for a different pizza chain. The sign shaker job must be one of the most boring, unstimulating, torturous, demeaningly mind numbing jobs I can possibly think of. Some hard-up for cash person is employed to stand for hours, unenthusiastically shaking a big red number 5 at passing traffic. The sign states that a pizza costs $5....I guess, I haven't really read it in detail.

As you might expect, the staff turnover for this God awful job appears to be high, but can you imagine what the poor bugger on shift today might have said or felt when he got up this morning and saw a howling gale outside and sheet rain teeming down so hard the drops appeared to bounce off the road as though they were made of rubber. My guess is, "F@*# that!" and then he suddenly felt a migraine coming on.

Regardless, someone was out there in those dreadful conditions, and my opinion of Little Caesars went down very swiftly (not that I had any real firm opinions of them in the first place mind you) - I just felt that it was inhumane and unnecessary. Sure, it is a wage for whoever drew the short straw out there, and if someone is that desperate to do that job, in such bone chilling conditions, then I just hope they got alot of extra pay or were, at the very least, given the choice as to whether or not they wanted to do take on the sodden walking advertisement role.

Surely the establishment could have given that person something else to do - fold pizza boxes, cut up vegetables, roll dough, clean the oven, tidy the store, brainstorm some more dignified winter promotions and less humiliating advertising strategies...I don't know - do I have to think of everything?

november

It sounds like an oxymoron, but I am starting to warm up to Novembers in Canada.
It really is a contradictory, yet stunningly beautiful show. The red and gold leaves fluttering in the brisk cold breeze and carpeting the ground, and bright orange pumpkins nested on each and every door step. The skies leak frequently, and yet the ground offers a crunching sound as dried leaves are crushed under foot.
While we have had some serious weather already, and flooding in the Fraser Valley, we have also enjoyed some bright blue sky - like we are today - granted, the clarity tends to make the whole place crisper, but it sure does the soul a whole lot of good to see such a glorious blue expression that is the clear sky - the colour of the throat- as opposed to clouded grey - the colour of cold steel.
I know it can all turn ugly very quickly, but change and variety is good. And I will take any amount of sparse sunlight while I can and cherish the slender embers of warmth the season provides before winter is upon us. November in the south west corner of BC feel ALMOST like Adelaide in the dead of winter....just a couple of degrees cooler and a few inches of rain wetter.....ok comparisons are futile...I am kidding myself, they are nothing alike (sigh).

The path of least resistance

Does such a path exist - a path of least resistance? If so, some one, please inform my son and direct him to it! My son is 4 now and I have been tearing my hair out over his socialisation for years. He is very shy and extremely resistance to ANYTHING and EVERYTHING new. He is contradictory and befuddling. I don't know if I am coming or am I going half the time.
Take soccer, for instance. When we lived in our friend Bruce's house, Alex would watch the two brothers who lived there, play soccer in the backyard. It inspired something in him, and he wanted so much to play soccer. We registered him into a tots soccer skills group for the fall season, and he seemed to really like it. The next spring we registered him again...hated it. Refused to participate, cried, whinge, moaned, groaned - it was a struggle to say the least, very unenjoyable for us as parents, and we were relieved when the group came to an end, although he wouldn't or couldn't give us a reason why he suddenly disliked soccer. Then we wanted him to try out some different sports to see what he might like. There was an "all-sports" group for 3-5 year olds, which gave the kids a taste of floor hockey, basketball and soccer. He resisted each one.
It appeared that he just could not comprehend the idea of a team sport, since he cried and chucked a wobbly when his own team player would take take the ball from him and score a goal, with which he would declare that he wasn't playing anymore. All He wanted to do was kick the ball as hard as he could and as far as he could. Clearly team sports were not right for him just yet.
In fact, he seemed more interested in the swimming pool outside the soccer hall than the soccer and asked if he could do swimming lessons.
I enquired and since he was 4, he had to take lessons by himself, without a parent in the water with him. Well, he wasn't sure about that, he only wanted to do it if I was there too. "Well you can't take swimming lessons then", I abruptly concluded. He was adamant that he wanted to do swimming lessons and so conceded that his want to do swimming was greater than his need for me to be there. So after 2 months of discussion and "are you sure", he excitedly entered lessons. I reassured him as to where I would be sitting and that I would be watching him from my seat. He seemed fine, we even bought bathers for the occasion.
I left him with the instructor and the three others in his group and went to take my place on the other side of window. I had barely sat down, when I saw the instructor handing out toys to play with in the pool. The woman put a soldiers helmet on Alex's head - oh no, she touched him - personal space has been invaded! I can see he starts to panic - he pulls off the helmet and chucks it aside. She motions for him to select the thing he wants, he grabs a killer whale toy, but the tightening in his chest is obvious to me... he is having trouble holding it together.
The instructor climbs into the pool, reclines back in the water and encourages the kids to join her - it is the toddler pool and in not at all deep. A little girl loses it and refuses to enter the water, just as Alex attempts to gather all his courage to go it alone. But the sight of her twisted sad face is too much and the dam wall breaks - she was ALL OVER, RED ROVER. Alex begins to wail as the little girls Grandma takes her out of the water - she had been standing by. The instructor tries to entice Alex in, but he resists and his face has panic written all over it. I think I waited two minutes tops (it seemed a long time, but it was probably more like 40 seconds) before I conceded that swimming lessons just weren't going to happen. I had Olivia with me, so we wandered out, Alex is in a state close to hyperventilation and traumatised. I felt like an ogre. Luckily the woman behind the desk gave my money back....this has obviously happened before.
Alex will go to the pool and actually loves it, but I have to be there. He refuses to go it alone.
I am telling you all this because I had a minor windfall today - I say minor because just like the weather, you can't really be 100% sure what conditions you are going to be confronted with, a week out from the day in question.
Alex and Olivia have been bored, bored, bored, bored at home. And while every kid in Alex's pre-school class is out using his energy, getting involved in things and learning new skills, my children hover inside too afraid to try anything new; Alex violently resist every golden opportunity place under his nose - the antics have to be seen to be believed.
Alex is a very strong boy, very muscular for his age and quite a quick sprinter. I make him ride his bike for miles, while I get my exercise walking the dogs and pushing the stroller.
Gymnastics has appealed to me as a sport for both of them for a while. One: I like it, Two: it is indoors so it is a good all weather thing to do, Three; the two of them can do it at the same time (that is rarely possible), Four: individual performance based sport rather than team based (I have mentioned the reasons about that already), Five: high energy and strength based, something I believed Alex might do well at.
I rang the local gymnastics club last week to see if they had any "come try" deals, since a program was going to be quite costly and I didn't want to waste all that money if Alex was going to hate it and kick up a stink- they had a no commitment drop in group. GREAT! $5 a session. Cool!
Alex refused to go, told me he wasn't going to do it, wasn't going to try it, wouldn't have fun there if I dragged him there and definitely would "NOT LIKE IT". Olivia could care less whether she went or not, she really wants to do swimming (which starts in two weeks and is parent participation for her group). Alex on the other hand was dragged kicking and screaming to the gym. He pleaded with me not to leave him there alone. "I will be right there Alex, it is a parent participation group". Then the coin predictably flips over "I don't want you to watch me" he says. "Ok I won't" I reply. "Don't leave me" he cries. It is like nut-ball tennis or something, where opposing scenarios are patted over the net like hot potatoes that can not be dropped. I give up!
I told him he was going and that was final; that I was sick of his behaviour and that I hated that his resistance to anything new was hindering his potential to learn and experience.
When the first group finished Alex and Olivia were the first on the sprung floor. Alex got such a kick out the floor alone he sped off running around in circles giggling. Olivia climbed over all sorts of stuff...and then they found the enormous foam block pit. They both jumped into it from a great height and struggled their way to the edge in fits of laughter. Then a trampoline was spied and they made a bee-line for that - then a Tarzan rope that hung over the foam pit on the other side, then the balance beams, and a sandwich of thick foam mats and so much other cool stuff. The kid across the road turned up and Alex played with him and his friend, while I was able to fully concentrate on Olivia who was having a ball. At the end of the 45 minute session. Alex, red faced and dripping in sweat complained that the time went by too quickly.
"So was it fun?" I asked them both. Olivia nodded enthusiastically, while Alex asked if there was gymnastics tomorrow. When I informed him that he could come again next week, he said "ok". He told me that he thought "it would be scary"....then he told me that he "had a great time".
There is hope after all.

Beautiful Brazil

I dived into Ashley's brief case as soon as the hugs and kisses, "welcome home" and celebratory lunch were done, and Ashley was safely upstairs unpacking - I was in search of...the camera.

I know, Ashley has been home for over a week now, and I haven't even mentioned Brazil. I guess I felt a little limited in what I could share. To be fair, he was there for work and had no time to really look at anything, most of his time was spent sitting on some plane or idling away the hours in a taxi. But I guess was hoping for a few more glimpses into the Brazil he had experienced.

He had even joked before boarding his plane, that he would take some pictures and would try not to take any photos of car parks. You see, when he came to Canada to scout out his job here, he endeavoured to take some shots of where we might live ,so I could get a feel for the place. He took a couple of pictures of the local supermarket from a really looooong way away, which mostly captured the car park, and he took one photo of some random house, as if this were the standard and only model of housing in Canada...hear that - ONE HOUSE! Not that I really cared to see any photos of houses, or supermarkets and car parks for that matter. I was kind of hoping for some scenery shots....Anyway it became a bit of a joke between us. Well, so I thought.

As I said, I was eager to take in the atmosphere and essence of what Ashley felt moved to capture, the snaps that he imagined I might appreciate and find interesting...the things he wanted to show me and share with me from his time in Brazil. Well... I have included one beach shot of Macae, where his base is located; Macae being the city he spent the most time in...hear that - ONE BEACH SHOT. Actually I lie, this is the beach looking right from his hotel room window, there was another of the beach looking left from his hotel window.

He also had two indistinguishable photos of some fuzzy grey high-rises type shapes lurking in the distance through a dirty thick smog. The rest.....well they

were of his helicopters and their intimate parts....these are just SOME of them. Oi!

Perhaps I should get that Safeway photo framed, with a matt around it to bring out the oil stains from the car park.

Arrrh, he knows I am only joking around ;) XXX

treatment

It has taken us 15 months, but we have FINALLY got ourelves a curtain in our bedroom.
Previously we had simply strung up a burgandy coloured sheet. It was annoying, impractical, not to mention unattractive - but at least it offered some privacy.
It wasn't like we were looking at getting some fancy custom made interior designed drapes or window treatments either....window treatments..... don't you go to the doctor for treatments? Come to think of it, our windows did need a little help, and without the curtains the cold would penetrate leaving us chilled to the bone. Ok....I accept the term window treatment...now moving right along.....
We went to the dreaded hardware store for curtains. I know... soft furnishings is the hardware store - go figure! The selection may be seriously restricted, but the prices are within our means. I guess the marketing department of such stores has tried to appeal to the female buyer so there is less of a conflict about going to such hellish places for the male in the relationship. How ingenious - FUN THE WHOLE FAMILY (do you sense my sarcasm?).
We bought the hardware, you know the rod and hooks and stuff; found a nice style, but it was sold out - damn! The only store that had any left in stock was in downtown Vancouver, we couldn't be bothered driving in there. Instead, we got the same style, but in a different colour. we were a bit sceptical, the colour was quite bold- love those refund no questions asked policies.
Ashley put up the rod and hooks soon after we got home, so in no time at all, we were staring, for the first time in 15 months, at our newly "treated" windows. "What do you think?" asks Ashley. We had both been standing there staring at the curtains with postures that mirrored each others - one hand on chin in a cradling grasp, the other resting under the elbow as support.
"Bloody awful!" I abruptly concluded, after pondering the disaster in front of me. The curtain pattern dominated - no, it screamed...and very loudly.
Ashley wasn't as convinced. So we agreed to leave them on the windows for the night, hoping a goodnight sleep might help - if we could sleep through THAT noise. I think it was only an hour later before Ashely also agreed - too much. WHAT WERE WE THINKING? Perhaps we were in need of some sort of treatment...mmm, window treatment?
The next morning we drove all the way into downtown Vancouver to pick up the curtains we had originally liked - the ones that were sold out in the local store. Much better.....laziness does not pay.
Yet another thing crossed of the reno to-do list.

rainy observations

Today it rained constantly and heavily.
The garden resembled a swampy marshland. Soon our crisp green world will dissolve into a dark brown soup. The gulls have already begun to congregate, boy they make a mess of the sports field next door; hundreds of them feeding on the doomed worms writhing in the soggy malleable earth.
There was so much water that a large pond had emerged, but interestingly only down our end of the car park. I noticed some silver coins gleaming through the water, unearthed by the downpour. It was as through God had been panning for treasures, and with some success, so it seemed.
I wonder about the value of lost coins buried in dry soils or at the bottom of the worlds oceans.There aways seems to be a coin somewhere: a penny here, 5 cents there, it all adds up.
I walked out in the rain tonight,with the sound of popping corn on my umbrella top. It annoyed me a bit. The sound became amplified by the bell of the umbrella, drowning out the expanded world's noises.
While shutting the park gate I fumbled and dropped the heavy chain and padlock into the pond that was God's panning instrument. My hand swirled in that cold brew of dirt and rotting leaves, to retrieve them. I swung the gate around to its closed position, disappointed that she wouldn't sing for me, as she does most nights with her hollow, soprano-like wail - too cold.
I don't have enough fingers to count the delights I saw and felt this day.

book club

A friend and I started a little book club across the miles - she's in Australia and I am...well, here obviously. My friend suggested this idea as a way of discussing interesting topics, and to spurn us to look deeper into ourselves and the world around us.

We have been doing this for about a year now, and I must say, I have never read so many books in one year as I have this year. And that includes my first, misguided year at uni, when I had grand illusions of studying to become a writer, and signed up to do English and classical studies at once - each subject requiring one read a book a week - IMPOSSIBLE - I also had philosophy/medieval history and french, plus the million actual assignments to research and write.

The first book we were required to read for Classics was The Iliad and for English...Jane Eyre, both were fine books, but neither were exactly short...and all those Greek names to remember in The Iliad - my brain almost fried that first week. Thankfully the Classics professor gave us a few more weeks for the first two books (the second was "The Odyssey"). I think I did manage to read all on the Classical Studies required reading list...I can't say the same about English. I believe I still have my copy of The Watch Tower (the novel, not the Jehovah's Witness magazine). It is still in its original, straight off the Unibooks shelf, pristine, not a dog ear or underlined sentence in sight - condition; and I have had it 10 years now!

It is funny that I was never a reader as a child. I never found a book I clicked with, and I was always a dreadfully slow reader - so slow that I was placed with all the kids who had trouble reading. My problem was not that I couldn't read, but that I found no joy in it and so I just ...well, didn't.

I started connecting more with books when I was given a book to read by my husband who was raving about it. It was within the genre of your classic quest type story, but wrapped around some metaphysical and mystical themes and ideas. I was very sceptical about it at first.

Ashley had gone away to work for a couple of weeks and had left the book on the chest of drawers on the other side of the room. It was 1 am in the morning, I had laboured along with the blasted Iliad all day, but I was having trouble winding down. I had easily resisted the book since Ashely's departure, despite his urging for me to read it so we could discuss it.

I remember it was shining out at me as I lay there tossing and turning, practically bludgeoning me with its own front cover, calling me to read it. So I did. I picked it up in a resigned mocking fashion - as if to say, "what is this crap about". Well, by page 9 I was hooked. The book spoke about "restlessness"...boy did I know that feeling. It had been something I had been battling for a number of years. The book applied meaning to it, and so I allowed myself to be carried along with the current of that fictional story.... I guess my soul has been opened to the magical potential of a story ever since.

The love of books and the written word, stories and possibility is definitely something I want to pass onto my children. And while they have a lot of books between them, we also go to the library every couple of weeks and check out 20 picture books at a time, which are read to them before the light goes out each night. I think I enjoy this ritual of the bedtime routine just as much as they do.

For myself, I tend to have a few books on the go. I tend to read a fictional novel and a spiritual wisdom book at the same time. The interesting thing about sharing a book with a friend is that we take turns selecting the book we are going to read, and so I have been reading some books that I would normally not consider - such as the one we just finished - Shantaram - 950 pages. As a slow reader I feel such a book to be an achievement. The language of that book was really quite glorious, and the story, for the most part, was really quite astonishing- unfortunately the ending was not as rewarding as the idea of getting through the whole 950 pages, but it was still worth the read.

It was my turn to chose our next book. I love going into book stores to see which one wants to be read by me - I chose Jodi Picoult's My Sister's Keeper . I have never read anything by that author before, so it should be an interesting experiment.

Does anyone have any recommendations?