As the Light Fades

As the light began to creep through the windows we sat and breakfasted together, my boys and I. We chatted about the robins and the plans the day held. We laughed and scolded and the cereal flowed freely.

It was good.

The morning sun reflected off of the ocean waves as we crab hunted. The joy of our yearly pilgrimage to the water was a tangible gift as they played with a cousin and grandma seldom seen but much loved. The salt air was the condiment as we ate together and spoke of times past when I would visit this beach and walk, grade mediocre papers and pray.

Under the afternoon sun little hands reached for berry after berry. Some even made it to the pails as we talked about cream and jam and the joy that is a Fraser Valley raspberry.

In the twilight we tucked tired bodies into bed. We discussed the day's adventures and the promise of a special treat in the morning for obeying boys.

The moon's first rays shone into the room as I stood in the kitchen and spoke on the phone with my mom. We talked of her father, a life well lived and the hope we shared together.

When the light was all gone my grandpa met face to face with the one he had loved for so long. Praise was spoken.

It was very good.

Chocolates, Flowers or an Air Gauge

Today is our 14th anniversary.

We're not real big on over-the top celebrations so we'll be celebrating today by hanging out as a family. We've spent several anniversaries apart, one with a coughing new-born and one in a Civic in a heat wave without AC, so just hanging out is rather nice.

A few days ago Way Cooler noticed that the air was getting low on one of my tires. He mentioned it to me and I had full plans of getting to it in a day or two when I was running errands. I am no stranger to filling up the air in my tires because while we adore our Toyota, the tires our Sienna came with leaked air faster than a beach ball from the dollar store. I have added air in the snow and the rain, in a skirt and always with two small observers. I am a rather independent sort and quite capable of handing the day to day minutia of my vehicle.

However.

I was not looking forward to doing it this time as bending still causes me a fair bit of pain. The next evening Way Cooler took my van and the boys and did it for me. I almost cried I was so happy. To me, romance is doing the little things. I had fifteen minutes alone to make dinner AND they took the van through the car wash as well. It doesn't get better than that.

Don't get me wrong, I do like flowers and notes and candy, but in every day living, fourteen years in, an errand run when I didn't even have to ask for it is better than a box of chocolates.

Happy Anniversary sweetheart.

In Which I Wear a Dress

On Saturday night I wore a dress.

For the first time in nearly two years.

I'm such a slacker when it comes to all things feminine.

But, our neighbour was celebrating his engagement, so I donned a dress and we went to join him. Along with every person he and his bride have ever met. Kidding. Sort of.

Our neighbour is Indo-Canadian and so we went to our first Sikh Ring Ceremony. There was a lot of food, lots of dancing and celebrating and the most beautiful saris I have seen in my life. I now want one. Except maybe not the bride to be's. Hers had to weigh a tonne it was so encrusted with bling. It was beautiful beyond measure, but that beauty would have come at a heavy price. Very heavy.

Being at the ceremony reminded me again why I love living in this city. We sat at a table with our neighbour's co-workers. There was a family from Guatemala, a Vietnamese couple, and a gentleman who immigrated from Hong Kong twenty years ago.

I am thrilled to be raising my kids in a city that isn't all white. They will learn about so many cultures and customs and all in their classroom just interacting with their friends.

My kids will learn early about racism. Not as an abstract concept but as something that greatly hurts their friends. It's hard to ignore something when it happens one desk over.

And that's the best learning of all.

Happy Monday

Happy Monday. Or something like that.

I am guest posting today. On a subject near and dear to my heart.

Living well within your means.

Or as my sister might say, being so tight I squeak when I walk.

However, if you are as fascinated about saving money as I am, you need to check out Simply Frugal. And not just today, but Canadians should really pop this one into their feed reader. It's a Canadian deals blog. Coupons and freebies and big sales. Oh my.

Anyway, head on over to see how I save money, even when it comes to my kids!

How to Make a Larryboy Cake

1. Spend two months trying to convince son he'd actually like a different cake.

2. Discover son is even more strong willed than originally thought to be.

3. Come up with brilliant plan to have bakery do said cake.

4. Learn about Canada's rather strict copyright laws.

5. Pout.

6. Blog about it.

7. Decide to make cupcakes and put pictures of Larryboy on Popsicle sticks and stick them in the cupcakes. Thanks to brilliant idea from Mile Hi Mama.

8. Have blog read by father who is baker extraordinaire and Very Big Fan of his grandchildren. Very Big.

9. Let willing father make his grandson's cake.

10. Serve this masterpiece to a very happy birthday boy.

See, easy-peasy.

Thanks so much Dad!!

You Do Know How to Whistle Don't You?

Yesterday morning Sprout woke me up at way-too-early-o-clock. This is not a terribly uncommon occurrence usually involving some sort of emergency or something.

Yesterday was no different.

Sprout: Mommy I have sompthin to tell you. It's important.

HG: What?

Sprout: I just learned how to whistle.

Insert a moment or two of groggy (and maybe not terribly gracious) correction. The end result being he went back to bed and did not stand upon the order of his going.

The rest of the day proceeded as normal, or as normal as this household is gonna get, interspersed with Sprout's newly acquired skill. I use the word skill as loosely as possible as his whistling is basically a hum with his lips puckered.

Then came supper. Also as usual, Sprout was dawdling so I was cleaning up while he finished. The "whistle" sounded again. I had heard it so much that I was tuning it right out. (If you do not have talkers, you won't understand, but if you do, you know exactly what I am talking about.)

Sprout: Mommy. MOMMY. MOOOMMMMYYY. (all within .78 seconds)

HG: What's up bud?

Sprout: I was whistling at you. LOOK. Points to his empty milk cup. And sits with an expectant look on his face.

FOR SALE: A pair of four year old lips. Cute and sassy. Going cheap.

Saturday Evening Reading

For the very first time I am participating in the Saturday Evening Blog Post, an event where bloggers feature their best or favorite posts for the month. The post I have chosen is "I Think I'll Leave my Shirt Open" because it totally sums up a lot of the lessons I learned during the dumb surgery. Plus, it's kinda sappy and I don't normally do that sort of thing. Sappy should be commemorated.

I cannot wait to sit down and read all the posts featured. You should too! Go to Elizabeth's blog to read and participate.