Spiderman Halloween Preview

Our recent trip to Victoria meant taking a few pictures.  Here are the highlights.  This lovely red bush bordered the walking trail we took every day to pick up the Times-Colonist for Ron.  Don't think we have these orange-red-flowered bushes in Ontario.

Chelsea was excited to see the fields of pumpkins growing so we stopped the car and I caught Beth.  Was she thinking of stealing one?  Later we bought Chelsea's choices: a 7-inch diameter, a 4-inch diameter and a small gourd.  What can I say?  She loves small things.

Beautiful fall flowers adorned this fence line across the road from the pumpkins.

I've saved the best for the last--Spiderman!  Well, maybe Spidergirl.  Chelsea's dad came home with this awesome Halloween costume  one day.  Since we wouldn't see her on the actual day, Chelsea modeled for us.  Here she is climbing up the wall.  I think Grandpa would have liked if she had used her web-throwing capabilities and climbed up that way.  Too cute!

What is your favorite Halloween costume?  When did you wear it?

Post Christmas Blues?

No way! I have post Christmas reds and yellows and oranges. Reds because red is such a vibrant meaningful colour. It never takes a back seat. All the other colours have to go with red. It just doesn't give an inch, does it?

And yellow because every day the sun streaks into my window and I have to tone it down with my blinds or I can't see my computer screen. Yet on grey days I really miss my yellow friend. I struggle to keep my spirits up.

Orange in January? Well, this is the season of Florida oranges and we buy a box every few weeks for my husband to make fresh-squeezed orange juice in the mornings. The succulent drip of juice floating by my taste buds on its way to my stomach is a winter delight I love every year at this time.

I don't write out resolutions, because I've lived long enough to know how disappointing their non-accomplishment is. Better to just set little goals, happy goals, goals which are joyful to complete. Then, if there are some less interesting or exciting things I have to do, they just get done without a lot of fanfare. Of course today I am really proud of getting back to my writing after a Christmas away celebrating (and slacking off.)

And I am glad I took these pictures of the tiny toy bench we gave Ben for Christmas because the decals lasted about one day. Now they are all gone, his parents tell us. Oh, well. Here is what it looked like when we gave it to him.



I made tiny mittens for both my grandchildren but think I got more out of it than they did. The story book I wrote for them was better received and Grandpa and I had such fun taking the pictures and puttting them into the software. I should have ordered a copy for myself as I ordered two and gave one to Ben and one to Chelsea. Nevertheless, here is the cover.


The story is about our big bear which both of our grandchildren love and our search to find it. I think that was my most favorite gift to give this year, although I surprised Ron with a couple of neat things.

So the final word is, I have no post Christmas Blues. The new year is looking bright and sunny.

Good Times and Great Kids

While Beth and Chelsea were here we had great firsts with our lovely granddaughter. Here is a shot Beth took of Chelsea feeding the ducks corn for her first time. She loved it and I loved that she did what I told her and threw the corn as far as she could towards the ducks in Southside Park.


Here is our trooper, Ben, shoveling dirt into the wheelbarrow to help his dad. Pretty good for a 21-month-old!


And here he is just before he ran into the spraying water to our great delight. Ben is a happy boy, ready to try almost anything if his Dad is around. (He was.)

On a picnic lunch trip to Stratford, Beth and Chelsea watch the ducks and swans in the Avon River, a favorite place of ours.

There really is nothing like the joy in my heart watching my kids parent their children. It's the best and most important job in the world, so I'm happy they and their spouses are such good parents.

Boys and Balls

Here is Grandpa playing with his grandson and the first ball we bought him.



Gotta love it!

Four and One at the Zoo

On Sunday last my husband and I accompanied our son's family to the Twin Valley Zoo east of Brantford. Of course I didn't write about it immediately so have forgotten just what these sleepy animals are, although I do remember they reminded me of the javelinas we saw in Arizona.

This bobcat was calm and beautiful. The tail is very short; hence, the name, I figured out.

Lots of deer ambled behind their fence. Of course there are many deer running free in Ontario, so this is not such a rare sight.

Daddy black bear sat patiently under the scrutiny of Ben, his parents and his grandparents.

The reindeer were quite interesting. This one has a lovely rack of antlers.

And this baby's antlers have just started to grow. I think his glare is because we had no food for him and he had run right over when he saw us.

At first I thought these were llamas, but of course they are alpacas. They have such a pert, perfect pose.

Alice the camel had only one hump here and, may I say, she was pretty ugly.

You might think this is just a kitty but beware as bobcats can be ferocious.

These two mountain lions drowsed in the afternoon sun.

The sound of the zebra was a revelation for all of us and I can't even describe it. Donkeys have their distinct heehaw and the zebra's sound is every bit as weird.

This mountain goat gave us his best side!

The last thing we did was enter the goat enclosure, at our peril. Immediately one of them untied my shoelace, and this one is pretty interested in Benjamin's clothing. We all had quite a time getting out of there with all we had taken in.
Wee Ben didn't know what to make of the goats!

There is no greater time than spending an afternoon with our kids and grandkids. Four and One? Four adults and one little boy out for his first trip to the zoo.

My Grandbabies

My husband and I have breathed air from Mexico to China, from Cape Canaveral to Gibraltar. We've rafted the Colorado River and climbed all 235 steps of Brock's Monument at Queenston. We've seen the old growth forest of Cathedral Grove, and walked on Hadrian's Wall. And we've taken the helicopter ride over Niagara's Falls. None of it compares to holding our precious grandchildren. We have two (so far!) I have reservations about putting their pictures on the web so have undertaken today to give you word pictures about each of them.

Chelsea was born almost a year and a half ago and we flew out to see her three weeks later. What utter joy to press her cuddly body to me, her head turned toward my neck as she slept. I had forgotten that contentment, that peace of holding a trusting baby so close. Her little nose turned up slightly as she snuffled in her sleep, happy to be held, unaware of how cherished she is.

Last week I talked to her yet again on the phone and for the first time she tried to talk back. Of course she doesn't really talk yet but she got the idea and voiced her own language to me. So simple but so sweet. Yesterday when Beth put her on, she didn't make any sounds but stood motionless, totally listening as I talked to her. For once she didn't try to take the phone away and look at the earpiece. She seemed to get that the voice she was hearing was the interesting part and didn't try to 'see' me.

So what does Chelsea look like? She still has that tiny turn-up nose and her eyes are beautifully blue (like both her parents'). Her smile can be small and sweet as though she's not sure she should commit just yet, or fully fashioned across her face, pushing her pink cheeks into soft mounds of joy. And she has her grandfather's dimple. Only one, in her left cheek, and only visible when her smile erupts. Chelsea was chunky until she learned to walk and then run, so fast that she wore off her baby bits. She still has a wee tummy but is long in the waist and shorter in the legs. She has a great pose when she has something to laugh about or someone to laugh with. Her little legs spread apart she tips forward slightly at the waist and her wee bottom juts out. Her hands are moving always, punctuating her happy mood, and her grin with wide-spaced snow-white teeth melts my heart in a second. When teething her cheeks glow red but she still smiles and keeps moving, busy all the time. Lucky I can remember her falling asleep in my arms, as these days she is too interested in her total world to sleep except when in bed. Then she is a great sleeper. In case you haven't guessed, she's also a keeper.

Our Benjamin started his life with some difficulties. With my left hand I held him facing me, on my lap, while with my right I held a tiny medicine cup holding one ounce of breast milk for him. My son told me to keep waking him up as he needed to eat. I talked to him, jiggled him on my lap, saw his eyes flutter open and tipped the cup into his mouth. Softly he sucked away on the dribble then closed his eyes again. I did this over and over until, half an hour later, the cup was empty and Benjamin was fed. Such a joy for me, even though he was so small I was almost afraid to hold him.

He, too, has come a long way since that time seven months ago. Today he stands strong in my lap for as long as I want to hold him there. He sits up straight and true, and watches the world around him with bonny blue eyes wide. He is beautifully proportioned although I think he might end up with extra long arms like his grandfather. Too soon to tell, though. His hair is blond and soft and his gummy smile when he sees either of his doting parents makes me laugh out loud. He is mostly happy although he can have some 'off' days now and again. He took a while to catch on to sleeping as much as he should but now seems to have it figured out. When his father takes him and swings him up in the air or his mother comes through the door and snuggles him, Ben giggles a lot. He seems to be trying to get out the biggest laugh ever. I think he will be a happy boy, too.

Both of these children are totally enfolded in love by their parents and their grandparents. When we saw Chelsea for the first time I took her, held her awhile and then offered her to my husband. He was content to watch me hold her but took the bundle in his arms and lost his heart to his first grandchild. And when we held Ben for the first time the same gut level ache caught each of us by surprise. We were happy, we thought, without grandchildren. Now we know a greater visceral joy. Maybe we see our 'line' will carry on, I don't know.

Oh, we'll continue to travel and see the world and its secrets, but now we have so much more to come home to. Our blessed grandchildren.

Shoes At Our Door

My full and varied life sometimes keeps me away from my blog but I keep my camera going when I can to brighten up my snatches for my readers. Below I've captured two pair of shoes in a picture-is-worth-a-thousand-words composition.

Obviously a little one was here. That little one was our precious 14-month-old granddaughter who brought her mommy here for a week's wonder at Grandma and Grandpa's house. Beth is known to many of you but if you want to refresh your memory, link to her blog.

Starting to feel sentimental and sappy, I took the picture the day before they left us, but it didn't stop me tearing up a couple of times the next day after leaving them at the airport in Toronto. Having them half a continent away is hard for all of us, but rather than boring everyone with that obvious glitch, I'll tell you of our time together.

We took Chelsea walking to the new park a couple of blocks from our condo and she did not disappoint. I'm not sure whether the teeter totter, the baby swing, the small slide or the older kids playing there could compete with her joy at just walking and running on the fledgling grass, but it was all fun for us. At only 14 months she kept us running after her for most of the time. I so loved watching her delight in absolutely everything. We adults get jaded but to Chelsea the world is a miracle unfolding just for her.

Her grandfather bought a large beach ball and we all took turns bouncing it for her and to her and even right into her. She squealed and waved her hands, knocking the ball about the room. Not sure I should be teaching her that but no damage this time. Now she better not do it with a baseball!

Riding in the car is the only time Chelsea slows down. Restraints don't seem to bother her as long as the ride isn't too long. She is happy to sit and stare as the world passes her by out the back window of the car. Soon her seat will be turned and she'll be able to see the front seat. Won't that be fun?

The parade of visitors all got the same show. First Chelsea stuck pretty close to her mother or to me. Even Grandpa was acceptable (she's going through a mommy-only phase just now) until she got comfortable with the visitors. Waiting her out was really worthwhile for them as she soon was laughing and running with them. Oh, to be that happy!

So, this is our Chelsea. High-spirited, funny, bright-eyed and full of life. And oh, did I mention completely beautiful? Thank goodness we have loads of new pictures to fawn over until we hold her in our arms again.

Finishing Up 2008 in Fine Style

Butchart Gardens on Christmas Eve. What a fairyland! We strolled through the snow with Chelsea and her parents, mesmerized by the lights, trees, Twelve Days of Christmas theme, and even some flowers. I loved this blooming tree with its liberal dusting of snow.

Victoria gets snow for Christmas about every ten years so we were glad to see it for Chelsea's first Christmas. We even stopped outside and had her touch it. Of course the snow went right into her mouth.

This the the partridge in a pear tree display at Butchart. So pretty.

All the buildings at Butchart were outlined in Christmas lights, creating a magical land of wishing and hoping for all.

On Christmas morning we opened gifts and Chelsea got to see the cloth book I made for her. Because she is far from any of her extended family, I put us all inside with a named page for everyone. Of course she took an immediate bite. At ten months old what else do you do? She also liked to laugh at her own picture. I really wonder what was in her head?

Beth has carried on the family tradition which her father and I started many years ago--she made a lovely gingerbread house, labelled it with Chelsea's name and got out the wooden mallet to smash it on Christmas Day. Chelsea got first chance but all she did was experiment with the various ways of getting the mallet into her mouth. The adults had to take over.

In the afternoon we bundled in the car and went downtown to the elegant Empress Hotel where a huge display of variously decorated Christmas trees filled hallways, stairs and entry ways. I loved the old English quartet stationed in the restaurant (where Beth and I had tea years ago) and singing beautifully. We stood and listened for awhile.

I liked the soldier tree above about as well as any, I think, although the truck tree below was pretty cute.

Finally I have to put in a picture of some of the things I've done beading in the last month: on the left, two right-angle weave bracelets, above and to the right, my own creation of a right-angle weave with Swarovski crystals bracelet, a necklace and earrings focusing on copper, and--the piece de resistance!--a right-angle weave bracelet fixing Swarovski crystals inside. Yummy.

I hope you all had a happy Christmas and that your lives are filled with love and light.

We Had NO Idea!

Our daughter and her husband may not exactly know just how much they have changed us in the last two months. On February 27 they ushered into the world our very first grandchild, an event which we all awaited anxiously and with great anticipation. When the time came for her birth Chelsea took her sweet time making her first appearance. Her mom was ready and waiting but Chelsea just didn't want to travel down that canal and a Caesarian was imminent. Fortunately the doctor didn't have to do that and Chelsea made her wonderful way into the world with just a little prodding. ( I wonder if this is a sign of things to come?)

We had planned with Beth to make our way to Victoria on March 19, a full three weeks after Chelsea was born, and our planning was good because the new young parents had plenty of time to get their heads around parenting before we got there. Watching the two of them with their daughter is something I won't ever forget as both handle her with such love and tenderness, you'd think they have nothing else in their lives, which is just not true. They have busy, productive, happy lives; indeed, we thought they might never opt for children, but opt they did and I haven't seen any regrets so far. (Wait till she's fifteen!)

Our week in their home was wonderful as we both held and cuddled and stroked our newest love as much as we wanted. The young parents were very kind to us. Both Ron and I have always loved children--we spent our lives teaching teenagers--and our five youngest nephews have been a perfect joy to us whenever we've been near them.

But we had NO idea what a physical leap our hearts would take when first we held our first grandchild. My son-in-law passed her tiny three-week-old body into my waiting arms as I sat in a sofa chair and I smelled her damp sweetness against my shoulder. She nestled in against my neck and, of its own accord, my hand stroked the length of her tiny back, up and down, up and down, soothing me as much as her. With every sniff and stroke I felt my grin widen and my body adjust to Chelsea's shape. Holding the prize, I looked at her grandfather and knew I had to share.

Grandpa--my, it's fun to say the word--wasn't really sure and suggested I just hang onto her but I was a little insistent. I stood and, in a tangle of out-of-practice hands and arms we managed to transfer Chelsea into her grandfather's waiting arms and I watched the grin on his face and the softness in his eyes as he held and really met his grandchild for the first time. I saw that he felt as I did and we smiled at each other, knowing without speaking what had happened.

Throughout the next week we got as much of a Chelsea fix as we could, marvelling at how she had touched some inner hot spot in both of us, until, all too soon, the time was running out when we would be there with her. Then we held her even more. Finally we had to leave for the plane trip home and we had our last hugs and kisses with all three of them. I tried not to think about the sadness then and skipped out the door with my suitcase rolling along after me, waving goodbye, a smile of my face.

When we were safely on the plane I let myself think of what we had done and had to blink a few times. I looked at my husband and we talked about the little life we had left behind for three months. She will be so changed when we see her again and we would love to be there for every change. Neither of us were prepared for her effect on us and both of us were all the sadder to be leaving.

By the time we reached Ontario we had resigned ourselves to how lucky we are to have pictures and movies and video-conferencing and digital camera movies. The week after we left Beth sent us a file of her talking to Chelsea while filming on her digital. We were ecstatic and have shown it to everyone we could get to hold still long enough to see it. Yes, we have become those annoying, picture-toting grandparents shoving things in the faces of everyone we meet, trying to share our joy in our granddaughter. Yes, our daughter and her husband have changed us and we love it. I look forward to the three visits we already have planned for the next nine months to see our Chelsea. And, of course, her parents!

Note: I am not putting pictures of Chelsea here as her parents are reluctant and I, too, do not want to expose our angel to the possible dangers of the Internet. Suffice it to say, she is beautiful, with a light dusting of darkish brown hair, big blue eyes, lovely little ears that fold back against her head, hands that should have no trouble spanning the octaves on the piano, a bit of a frown when she is concentrating, a pretty, tiny mouth which yawns and sucks, cries and opens wide, and, now, Beth tells me, smiles in reaction to her world. My arms ache to hold her again.

Bitten, Smitten and Blessed

Okay, I've been bitten. Or maybe smitten is the more correct word.

My husband and I took the plane trip to Victoria for six days last week to see our new baby granddaughter, a trip we greatly anticipated. How could we know, however, that our lives would actually change the moment we held her? That something deep inside would rise, unbidden, to claim her as ours to cherish and protect from that moment on? I was first to get her on my shoulder, to feel her soft weight against my neck and to drink in her baby smell. Her dark wisps of hair felt like silken embroidery floss, so soft to my touch that I felt, for the first time, that my hands were large and rough. Chelsea cuddled into my neck, her eyes closed and her breath a rhythmic lullaby.

When her grandfather held her sleeping body he, too, fell asleep and I have a wonderful picture of her tiny body cradled against his shoulder with his right hand, while he propped his own head up with his left, a contented smile on both their faces. Yes, he is in love. Proudly he struck out down the street with her stroller on our first walk together and I caught that moment as well.

Her parents were very good about letting the two of us hold Chelsea whenever we wanted, a circumstance we loved to exercise whenever we could. The six days went way too quickly and last Tuesday we flew away, not to see our darling until sometime in June. We were sad throughout that day, through two flights, three hours waiting in Calgary airport, and on the car trip home from London. We would like to be able to visit Chelsea whenever we want but it is not to be. We have to content ourselves with photos and Messenger visits. Our need to get videoconferencing set up on both ends is paramount. With all our modern technology we still feel the wound of separation. I don't even want to imagine what the first settlers to this country felt, knowing they would never, I mean NEVER, see their families again. We are blessed.