Tumblebums

Yesterday I talked to a wee little girl for a taste of sweetness. She was just going back to her nap after a diaper change when I called. Chelsea's wee voice warmed my day as much as the sun. Now that she is talking and has grasped the concept of the telephone we have a 'conversation' about once or twice a week. Usually she answers my questions with a yes or no but often I hear nothing and Beth tells me Chelsea was nodding or shaking her head. And she has enough words to actually tell me that they are going to Tumblebums after her snack.

Now Tumblebums is a place in Langford, outside Victoria, set up for little ones to play and, well, tumble. Chelsea's grandpa and I took her there one day by ourselves. Imagine a place where the whole purpose is to gratify a kid's need to explore, build, watch others and have a healthy snack. Well, that is what we found. And Chelsea goes there often enough to know where it is. My husband and I used the TomTom to get to the plaza but then couldn't see our destination. As we talked about where it might be and Ron turned this way and that, suddenly a little voice from the car seat piped up. "There it is!" And her finger pointed to a unit with no large sign. As we drove closer we saw the small posters in the window. Chelsea had showed us exactly where to go.

Now this child was not quite two at the time. Amazing how much knowledge is packed into her little brain. When I think that my earliest memories are of about five years old, I find it hard to accept that she will probably forget all of these things that are so real for us adults. In Arizona in January when we exited the super highway at our exit, every time we heard, "There it is!" as we approached the stoplight and turn to our place. Unbelievable. And she did it after only one earlier trip.

And now I must run as we're going to have our wee grandson for the afternoon. So much bliss!

Elaine Cougler's Writing Blog

Today I have an exciting announcement! My new blog, On Becoming a Wordsmith, is up and running. It is a blog about writing and all its joys and jilts, tips and tilts. Below is what it looks like for now but lots of improvements are coming as I ramp up my WordPress blogging skills.

I hope you will take a trip over to On Becoming a Wordsmith and join me. I will still be posting pictures and writing other pieces on this page as well.

Being in the Right Place

Today's piece is a bit of a contest. Really. Look at the picture below and try to figure out just what it is. No, really, I'm serious. Sometimes you're just in the right place at the right time.

Do you see that all the faces are hidden? Who are these people? Why are they face-down on the floor of The Bay in north London?

Possible answers:
1. They are tired.
2. The floor smells so good they all just had to get down there.
3. This is a new way of modeling coats.
4. Well, you get the idea....

One evening a few days before Christmas 2009, my husband and I had just entered The Bay when he realized he had broken the zipper on his winter coat. I looked, couldn't fix it, and suggested we use his gift certificate to partially pay for a new one. Off to the coats we went and were just sourcing out where might be the ones we might actually buy when we heard a cascading crash behind us. We turned, we looked and took a few seconds to realize what had happened. A whole section of coats had dominoed over into the aisles.

We went closer to look. There were no salespeople around. I dug into my purse for my digital camera and voila!--a strange picture and a big laugh.

Flora, Fauna and People

This photo commemorates our trip to Victoria, specifically Sidney's Shaw Ocean Discovery Centre. This is an octopus and marks the first time I have ever seen this creature at all, let alone up close and personal.

The octopus filled the tube over our walkway at times or maneuvred its way from tank to beautiful tank, all for our amazement. Ron, Beth, Chelsea and I loved it. Below are more colourful examples of the aquarium's sea life.

And you have to realize that the colours are not plastic reproductions floating among the fish, but real sea creatures themselves. I could have sat there on a chair and watched all day. So calming.

In Arizona I accompanied Beth's family to the zoo one fine morning. The sea turtles were busy lumbering from place to place in their enclosure. I liked how close all of the animals were in this Phoenix zoo.

These lovebirds showed their tails for us, a jubilant splash of colour among the green leaves.

It seemed to be a day of butt pictures. Chelsea liked these camels and I did, too, although none of us were inclined to climb on. They were very smelly, a state I've been told is their natural one.

These sea otters caught my attention as they dashed in and out of the hollow logs in their enclosure. I love the soft green water accenting their wet, dark fur.

A highlight of our trip was feeding the giraffes, with the help of a knowledgeable volunteer. What a great thing for seniors to do. We all fed the hungry fellow, except Chelsea, who was more content to watch closely.

These are some kind of cows or cow relatives but I liked the red plant in the foreground. Thought it added some kick to the pic.

Javelinas! Up close and wide awake for us. Reminded me of my encounter with them on one of our walks in Tucson when visiting Aunt Nancy. These were less scary as they were penned up.

Arizona sunsets are spectacular and we saw quite a few during our three weeks there. This overlooks our timeshare from our balcony.

You'll probably notice there was no picture of shopping, which fact tells you we much prefer nature although some of the shopping areas are pretty beautiful. The best scenario is lots of nature to enjoy with my best people.

Time For More To Be More

I have a subscription to More Magazine, billed as Canada's magazine celebrating women over 40. Hey, great, I thought when sitting at a hairdresser's shop in Victoria. I liked the mag so well, in fact, that I tore out the mail-away card for a subscription. And promptly forgot about it.

Issues of More started coming and I wondered why until the bill came. Then I was angry as I had no memory of ordering this publication. After some reflection I did remember, pay the bill and read a few more issues, finding again what had attracted me about that copy in Victoria: it's about women's things, and unabashedly so, providing a new perspective for me.

So what am I writing about today? The April issue features a cover with a 50-year-old "super model". And she looks thirty. Well, that's nice. And she is beautiful so I know why she is on the cover. When I read the article, however, I discovered that the five finalists in More's 40+ model search are all drop-dead gorgeous, thin, svelte, muscular, with not a grey hair in sight. While I don't want to take away from these women--they sound totally comfortable in their shoes, which is way more important than their stunning looks--I can't help thinking how little they represent the bulk of us over 40.

And that leads me to wonder if More is really less in its respect for women and if it is just perpetuating that old myth that women have to be stunningly beautiful and look YOUNG to be worthwhile. Margaret Lawrence, one of my most favorite authors, was certainly not beautiful, but she stroked my thoughts for years with her real female characters. I could relate. Rita McNeil will not win any beauty contests but her soft, sincere voice singing her own music speaks to my heart as she explores real situations through that music. And Lena, my neighbour for many years in Shelburne where once we lived, holds a prime place in my heart. She was over seventy when we moved next to her and had lived a lot of sadness in her life but it didn't consume her. Her eyes twinkled as she tucked a stray white curl into her invisible hairnet and hobbled from stove to table with wonderful food for my husband and me. She had lived through rheumatic fever, lost several toes along the way, was told not to get married or have kids, did both, and had a loving, boisterous family who doted on her and her Elmer. She was a winner, and beautiful, too.

Why does being beautiful have to mean not looking our age? Isn't it time we struck a chord for what's inside no matter what is outside? Of course we all like to look good but I have learned that people see the outside first and then dwell on the inside the rest of their lives. I am more than a pretty face, I used to say, and today when I am well past forty, I am really thankful for my brain and my talents. Time for More to think of more than beauty. After all it is only skin deep.