Georgian Bay palette
I meant to write about the crazy-ass construction ripping up the very street we live on where skid steers and steamrollers practically park on our front lawn each night. My son thinks, of course, this is some private party I've arranged to happen daily for him so when we descend the stairs each morning, he gets to watch diggers at play out the front window as though it's some big screen television.
We don't gots a black box, but he doesn't seem to be missing out on much (nor do I). We have busy enough days and plenty to do versus sitting on a couch zoned in (or rather, 'out') glued to some boob tube. The construction has been pretty major and shakes the whole house so it was good to get away during our time off together. Although, one advantage is that perhaps I may be the only woman on my street who knows every g-d name of each piece of machinery. Last week, strolling him home, some dude walking past us attempted a little male bonding by saying to him, "Howja like that backhoe?" I couldn't help but correct him. "That's actually a track excavator." He seemed slightly offended as he shirked past me. "Get your mighty machines right, dufus," said I, with a smirk (though admittedly not aloud).
And then, of course, another special someone died: Jack Layton. Far too young. His death affected me more than I could have imagined. He was 'my guy' when I lived in Toronto-Danforth. I voted for him so many times, I've lost count. I'd see him round my old neighbourhood riding his bike. He was green before it became the thing to be. I adored that man. Actually shook his hand and chatted with him one night at some fundraiser years ago at the El Mocombo or some place. What a class act, a gentleman, a passionate soul, a good man. Rex Murphy summed it up pretty well.(Thanks, Rex. Take that, Christie Blatchford! You small-minded, jealous, two-bit hack. Why not get a soul next time you're out shopping and maybe take Rob Ford with you? See if there's a two-for-one deal.)
Er. Ahem. *insert Buddha-inspired smile of peace and composure here*
Last week, Sunshine started full-time at a new daycare. The transition proved only slightly painful—nothing like the first time he attended last March, thankfully. Where he spends his days now there is a lot of outdoor, shaded greenspace, a big sandbox, slides, stuff that looks like granite but is spongy and soft to run on, flowers outdoors to water. Even tomatoes to watch grow!
bunny for comfort, lion for courage, doggy backpack for protection
You might remember my post of last April in which I relayed my all-night vigil to land him a spot in this special place. All the parents who froze their arses off that night finally gathered again weekend before last at a barbecue. We hardly recognized each other out of our parkas and scarves but we had a fabulously fun reunion. I am thrilled he is finally at the place I wished for and will stay put there until gradeschool - this one's walkable and bikeable to and from home and work. So mommy bought herself a fancy new set-o-wheels and a trailer for me babby. No more carrides until wintrytime! YAY!
bicycle built for two
I hope everyone's summer was beautiful. It used to be that Autumn was my favourite season. There seems a tug-o-war going on in my heart between Fall and Winter for first place. For now, Autumn, you is it. I await the equinox, the cooler nights, the layering of clothes, the changing of leaves, the smell of woodsmoke with baited breath...
And the celebration of our very first year in This Old House, come mid-October. Wow. Did that fly by! He'll be 2 1/2 in November. If only I could wind my clock back a year or two when Daylight Savings Time hits. *sigh*