Clunk

With all of the advances in technology and engineering etc going on constantly in the world, why on earth does it still make such a prehistoric racket when planes let down their landing gear? Guaranteed that first-time flyers shit their pants every time it happens. You'd think they'd have found a quieter, smoother mechanism by now. No? Just me?

Almost, But Not Quite

I visited my friend Jaclyn last night. Or rather, I sat in silence for about an hour and a half on her couch last night. No, we were not watching the Olympics, though they were on. No. We sat there, staring, at the newest bundle of joy in our worlds.


Ocassionally, I would feel bad and every once in awhile would try to break the spell and start a conversation with her but always found myself drifting off, staring into the pools of dark, dark blue that are his eyes, so blue they're almost navy. I stared at this creation, this beautiful boy that was just two weeks ago in the belly of my friend sitting on the other couch and I marvelled at that.


I could not remember. I could not remember McK ever being so tiny, so light, so delicate. I could not remember what that felt like. And part of me was sad, that little mothering part who loves newborns and wee babes and tiny sleepers and fuzzy heads and that soft, soft, EVER so soft spot right at the nape of their neck. I miss that. Not enough to have another one, mind you. Almost, but not quite. :)

Compulsion

Why is it, that EVERY time someone comments or compliments me on what I have on or a piece of jewelery or something I have, I compulsively tell them where I got it. Especially if its at a place you wouldn't think. Or if it was super cheap. I NEED to tell them how much it was. Am I weird?

Take the other day. I had on my black boots. They look nice, stylish, like boots you could get at a fancy shoe store. Someone commented on them, "Great boots!". My reply? "Thanks! Giant Tiger!" Whats up with that? Why can't I just say Thanks! And then zip it?

Today, someone commented on my pants. "Thanks, they were $2.99!" Seriously? I just told you I paid less for my pants than for a Big Mac? Why do I feel the need to do this? Is it because I'm not a showy person, I'm not flashy or fancy in any way shape or form so I justify any new purchases with the fact that I didn't pay that much for them? I do love the fact that I always find a good bargain and rarely pay full price for much but why the need to tell the world about my incredible savings?

How to Keep a 6 Year Old Busy for an Hour

The One Where the Videographer Bites It

End of the Trail. Start of the Rapids.

A Walk in the Woods

Yesterday we went to the Whiteshell. It felt like we hadn't been there forever. And yet, once we started walking, I remembered every turn, every sight, every part of the trail that let me know how far there was to go or how far we had already gone.

I could hear the wind. I heard it in the treetops dancing, whispering secrets, telling tales. "Just look at these three", it must have said up there, "Walking in the woods on a winters day. Searching for that spot where they won't feel us. No wind, only sun."

We found it. That spot with no wind, only sun. On a cold, cold winters day. In the middle of the woods. By a rushing river. Its always out there. Sometimes you just need to take a walk in the woods on a winters day to find it.

Pine Point. Valentines Day. Love. Perfect.

Our Trip Down

One Tired Kitty

On the drive home after being in the sun and wind and snow for four hours. Shes a tobogganing fiend.

A Little Breath of Fresh Air

Today we went to Birds Hill Park and played outside. Top of the hill? Windswept and chilly. In the trees making a fire? Cool but calm. On the south side of the trees? Virtual tanning bed. That is where we made ourselves at home. Sitting in the snow, the sun beating down with a thousand watts, hearing the wind on the other side but not having to invite it to our party. It was perfect.

Hi How Are You Today

So I watched the opening ceremonies of the Olympics last night. At first I was a little torn. Was it slow? Was it boring? Where was the flashiness? Where was the pomp? And then it settled in me. Thats not us. Thats not Canada. We're not flashy. We're not all pomp and circumstance.

Our pomp and circumstance came in a different form. It came in the form of storytelling. Of history. Of respecting the land that we're on. When the four first nations group came dancing in I thought "thats not alot of people" but then they kept coming. And then the First Nations of the Prairies came in in their headdresses and their hoops and they knocked the socks off of the other ones that came out. The ceremonies was alot of that for me. Thinking huh, thats not that spectacular. And then the realizatin that wow, that really WAS spectacular. In a creative and thoughtful and very Canadian way.

When Nelly Furtado and Bryan Adams sang I thought, meh, a little kitschy. But then I thought, Bryan Adams has been a solid and proud Canadian forEVER. And when Sarah McLauglin sang next I thought well THATS more like it. When the dancers on stage were dancing I thought who can really SEE them? And then I realized, I can see them. And thats enough.

But the true start of the ceremonies for me? The part that I'm sure resonated with the younger viewers? When the fiddlers and tappers came out in their plaids and fishnets and leathers and mohawks and they Ripped. It. Up. I watched it, loving it, but thinking wow, why would they leave Ashley MacIsaac out of THIS? And then voila. There he is. His four minutes of playing unfortunately outshined the SHIT out of the other players but OH MY GOD was he fantastic.

And then, the barefooted voice of a thousand singers in one body came out and she FILLED the stadium with magic. The sea of lights, just a piano, and one woman. KD Lang sang that song at the Juno's a few years ago. And I thought wow, thats the best thing I've ever heard. And then she did it last night. And yes, it was even better. Hard to imagine. But so, so true.

But the biggest surprise? The spoken word poet rapper type guy. I don't remember his name but holy smokes he NAILED IT. He said everything about Canada that any proud Canadian has ever said or wanted to say. He made Canada sound like the best place in the world to live, and it IS. He brought truth to the things that other people used to make fun of us for. And he said it in a way like it all just came to him, right in that moment, with the rythym and flow of something that had been practiced for months but the delivery of a proud and patriotic spokesperson.

The glitches at the end? Unfortunate but hey, what can you do? We're Canadian, I'm sure we're apologizing for it all over the world.

Oh Canada

The olympics start tomorrow. I've never been overly overwhelmed by the olympics. I would watch this and that, nothing religiously, everything halfheartedly. But this year? I gotta say. They planned their media spot on.

I love the commercials. I love that its Donald Sutherland narrating. I love that he appears in the last commercial. I will always remember the ad for the speed skater who, two olympics ago still skated even though his sister had just died and he wiped out on the track and just sat there with his head in his hands and the next olympicshe was back skating for his daughter who was named after his sister.

I love the ads that talk about winning on home soil. The ad with the downhill skiier. The ad with the brother speed skaters. I love the ad with Ryan Reynolds and Steve Nash and Michael J Fox that make British Columbia look like one of the most beautiful places on the planet.

I haven't even gotten sick of the slogan. Who ever came up with that earned their paycheque. So this year I will watch a little more closely, follow along a little more intently, and not waffle and secretly cheer for the US. I am rooting for them, for our athletes. And thanks to these well timed and well made commercials, I actually know who some of them are.

Do you believe??

MIA Like Whoa

Since you been gone:

I went to New Orleans. Best new memory ever? Sitting in Maison Bourbon, listening to the most amazing live jazz, like, EVER, and the leader of the band announces that not only is there a birthday in the house but its a birthday of a guy heading BACK to Iraq two days from then. *choke* Everyone in there stood up, raised their glasses, and sang happy birthday at the top of their lungs while the band played on. Patriotic much? I wanted to be American right then.

The Saints won the Superbowl. Oh. Em. Gee. I have loved them since last year when I saw them play live. New Orleans was buzzing when we were there, just about vibrating by the time we left. They played like rockstars. They ripped it up. They blew the haters and the doubters out of the water. It wasn't even a close game. They earned it.

I kept track of 54 people for 4 days. Well. Except for the last morning. Remember in the movie Home Alone where they are already at the airport and they realize they left Kevin at home? Well, we left Kevin at the hotel. And his name was actually Kevin. Which was a little creepy weird. When he finally answered his phone and asked what he was supposed to do I told him he needed to get on his big boy pants, get himself to the airport and talk to the ticket ladies to find a way home. Ok, maybe I left out the big boy pants part. But it was implied.

I have realized that my budget saviour, the one person who would finally be able to get me out of budgety, spreadsheety hell, had NO IDEA WHAT I HAVE BEEN TALKING ABOUT. Nelly. That was one hugely disappointing moment in my world. I sent her the spreadsheet that I had been talking about THIS WHOLE TIME and got a resounding "Yeahhhhh......I've never seen that before" in reply. *ack* Looks like its just me and my spreadsheet. Again. I need to just embrace the spreadsheet, love the spreadsheet, BE the spreadsheet. Fuck.

I watched an episode of the Buried Life. I hadn't watched it from the beginning of the season because I knew what a tear-jerker it would be. And this episode, they wanted to help a woman deliver a baby. It was rather humorous, having delivered a baby of my own. What single 20-something guy would want to see THAT? But the stock in Kleenex went up in the last part of the show where they earned money to get a woman from New Orleans, who lost her mom in the Superdome after Katrina, to her grave site. She had never been there. They got separated and the mom ended up getting buried in Denver. What parent could watch that dry-eyed? What parent??

So work has been nutty, home has been nutty, life has been nutty and that, well, thats where I've been.