Archive for January, 2006
Just hold on a minute…
So much time goes by.
There is so little time to behave selfishly and just do what one wants, like finish that room in the basement for C, enter a photo into this blog every day, even just sit up in bed and read. I quite realize that these are the penalties of deciding to live out of the city and commute so long each day. But hummm. I feel very far away from anything other than the odd good shot. I felt at one time that I used to shoot stories.
Gone dormant now for a long while.
Here’s one:
Watch Out!
Sparks fly off the walls sometimes. Little known fact.
Brown World
Its gone cooler again, hovering around -3 and -4C. There is no snow and the grasses and scrub are the dun colour of sleeping dogs. There is an odd sort of hush in the air these days, as if the sleeping things outside had slowly realized that Spring is a mere two months away. I imagine their collective jaw suddenly closing as they remember flutterings of buoyant air tossing their fronds and leaves about; as they imagine the sun at 8pm. But maybe its just me.
I remember standing on the GO train platform in Oshawa last winter as I was just taking it for the first few times into Toronto. I prefer the lead car as it lets me off conveniently close to exits once we pull into Union station, but it does mean walking the full length of the train to reach it. There are 10-12 cars of two decks apiece that are each 40 paces long. Its a long walk. Before I got the timing right in arriving at the station, I’d often get there before the train and wait in the bitter, bitter cold at the end of the barren and forlorn platform; shuffling my feet and hunching my shoulders while the wind howled. Oh my god, is this what is ahead of me for the entire foreseeable future? I’d whimper. But then I learned, of course, and now it is just a brisk walk to the waiting car and a swing aboard to sit down and open my iBook and see what digital things there are to do. But it seemed so much damned colder last year than this. I dread the feeling creeping over me that winter has yet to come into its own this year and will sink this part of the country into a deep and lasting freeze. Being this close to the lake (Ontario) means winds are always laden with moisture and can get right inside your bones when it blows.
I have nothing to say.
Bad Mama, Bad Dada
Its surprising, really, the volume of effluent that will exit a child’s mouth after dinner when tumbled about mirthfully on the living room rug. I kept thinking ‘well, that must the last of it’. But lo and behold, the stomach contained more. Yes, oh yes, much more than anticipated. Two hands cupped below the puir wee bairn’s mouth were a paltry attempt at containment, paltry. We have only ourselves to blame, of course. Why oh why did we forget the maxim: Thou shalt not toss thy child after a full dinner, especially over thy living room rug, or thou shalt pay the smelly consequences. Owen was remarkably even about it all. After the first batch: ” I think that’s it, Dada.” And then after the second batch: ” I thought that was it, Dada.” He whimpered a little, poor soul, and I cannot blame him at all. We agreed that from here on in, stories read in cosy proximity on the couch after dinner was far more advisiable and probably less stinky too. Amen to that.
Earlier in the day, feisty O and I went for an amble in the ” lie-down field” (although we did not lie down as is customary in the summer, due to the vast quantities of water and general uckiness about in the grass). We startled the mother deer and two yearlings that we have been watching now and then since last spring, and saw a large owl – twice. We are inclined to believe it was a Great Grey, but will defer to any authority on the matter. We investigated lichen on sticks, water droplets held by grass and leaves, swirling water in the stream, deer poo (‘that’s disgusting’ said Owen), and substantial amounts of ice and puddles. A wonderful time was had by all.
Here are some picsh from today:
ADDENDUM: But wait! There’s More!
Owen was ill again several times through the night. Carrie slept near him and I slept near Finney (no, really, I enjoy being repeatedly kicked in the head. I especially like the crying at 3 am when I say no to it). He was ill again just tonight after having juice for dinner (yep, that’s it). Poor little tyke. But ha ha! One of the better things about an evolved species is the ability to learn from mistakes. I shot a bowl kept nearby just for the occasion under his nose as he pitched up while watching Monsters, Inc. We introduced Owen to the phrase ‘couch potato’ today (which is what he was) and he thought that a pretty funny thing to say. I am amazed how how quickly he has sprung back from throwing up. Within a couple of minutes he was saying he was hungry and whined about wanting his dinner when we were cautious about it with him. I remember throwing up after drinking too much in high school and feeling just like pond scum or the green slime that clings to an aquarium (well, our aquarium anyway). But then alcohol is actually poison isn’t it? He is looking a bit better but still pale. One of us may very well stay home with him tomorrow rather than sending him off to purgatory, er, preschool.