friday high five - dear santa

Only about 5 months until Christmas... do you think it's too early to start writing my letter to Santa?

So for this Friday's High Five.... the five things I'd most like to see under the tree this Christmas

1. A Kobo!! My sister in law got a Kindle earlier this year and I have been pea green with jealousy ever since. I like the Kobo over the Kindle largely because it's compatible with the local library. How awesome is that? My bank account and Michael would thank Santa forever.

2. An ice cream maker. How much fun would that be?

3. Old Navy gift cards. So I have a reason to put together a shopping trip with some of my best girls.

4. DVDs! Modern Family Season 1 or 2. Season 6 of The Office. The Flight of the Conchords. Season 2 of How I Met Your Mother.

5. Passes to the movies. Love going to the movies, but we never go with out the movie package from Costco.

What will you be asking Santa for?

friday flashback - the christmas double cross

Another year has passed since we lost Papa Joyce, as unbelievable as that may seem to me, but she's never far from my mind. I think of her whenever I'm in my laundry room, which isn't as odd as it may sound.




This picture hangs above the dryer in our laundry room. Once upon a time it used to hang with two of it's sisters at Papa Joyce's house. I guess truly they were triplets since it was three copies of the same print hanging on the wall. The story goes, she had been shopping and seen them displayed like that in a store. She liked the look so much she bought a set of three for herself and displayed them on the wall in her home. At least until the teasing she took for having three copies of the same print hanging in a row became to much. Then two of them found a new home under Papa Joyce's bed.

Now we are a family that likes to tease and poke fun. And a funny story can live on indefinitely or at least until someone does something stupider funnier than you. It was at one family gathering before Christmas that the story of the triplet prints came up again. I can't remember who it was at the time, but someone suggested Uncle GMac "steal" two of the prints out from under Papa Joyce's bed. The idea being, we would wrap them up and give them to her for Christmas. Oh how we chuckled at the thought of her unwrapping these gifts Christmas day and thinking now she has 5 copies of the same print.

I should pause here to mention Uncle GMac may be the "worst" of us all for practical jokes. Every year the big stocking is filled with his "gifts". Contributions that have, in the past, included a roll of toilet paper with about 4 squares left, a dead plant, an ancient box of salt less than an eighth full, and he's not above gifting you items he's found lying around your own house either. In hindsight, we were taking a big risk bringing him on as a partner in our Christmas gift practical joke. Of course we didn't realize that at the time.

Christmas day rolls around and we are practically giddy with what will transpire at some point in the gift opening process. I'm sure there was a lot of knowing eye contact and elbow nudging going on. And then in a move we didn't predict we were handed two identically wrapped packages. One for Mike and I, one for his brother. We unwrapped them to find twin pictures that just so happened to have a matching sibling hanging on the wall at Papa Joyce's house. We sat there with our mouths hanging agape while Papa Joyce chuckled on the couch and Uncle GMac sat smiling smugly in the corner, having just pulled off a successful Christmas doublecross.

friday flashback - the not so distant past edition

How did I forget to share Abby's kindergarten graduation pictures with you? I mean I shared the ones from the ceremony, but not the actual cap and gown photos.



Call me biased if you'd like, but that is one seriously adorable kid!

This is the pose we got prints of, but we also bought the cd that gave us the rest of the shots from the sitting.

friday flashback - that famous zipcode

In 1990, I was 17 and had been dating Michael for a year. So life was already pretty good. And our young love looked like.....



I know, right? We were totally cute.

I guess I was your typical 17 year old. I had the whole world figured out. I was definitely way more mature than most of my peers or so I thought. What could be more perfect for a girl of that age than a teenage soap opera in prime time? Well judging by the way my friends and I watched the hell out of Beverly Hills 90210, not much. Oh my gosh, the endless conversations about Brenda, Kelly and Donna. What they wore, their hair and of course which one was our favourite. Should Dylan pick Brenda or Kelly? Or were Kelly and Brandon soulmates? Should Donna sleep with David? And why was her Mom such a hard ass? Such cutting edge drama when you're 17.

And the best part? It's Back!! Oh that's right baby, 90210 is back. Now I would have tuned in for the title alone, but tell me that Brenda and Kelly (it would have been awesome if they'd been able to work out a deal for Donna too) are back and I am making an evening out of it. We're talking an early bedtime for the kids so I can ensure a two hour time slot of no interruptions for the premiere on Tuesday.

What about you? Were you a 90210 fan back in the day? Will you be watching the updated version? I'm interested to see what's considered racy for a teenage soap now compared to a decade or two ago. I can only imagine how vastly different it will be.

friday flashback - the purse edition with bonus meme

You cannot begin to imgine how much I loved that purse when I was a kid.



I'm only a tiny bit embarrassed to tell you that there is more than one picture of me showing off my beloved purse in the old family albums. I can't imagine what I needed to carry around in it. Barbie clothes perhaps? Some crayons? Wadded up kleenex? That's what my older and therefore more worldly cousin told me they did on TV to make it look like the actresses actually had something in their purses. Or did she say bras? I can't remember.

It seems kind of funny to me that I had such a love for that purse because I'm really not so much a purse girl. I will carry the same purse for years before it starts to bother me enough that I need to start looking for a new one. And all this is just a round about way of telling you that Leah tagged me for a meme about a hundred years ago. A purse meme that I just now got around to doing. Sorry Leah, I really have no excuse.



Today seemed a good day for it since my purse was full to bursting and in desperate need of a cleaning.



Wow! Did I ever have a lot of crap in my purse. See that pile there? That's nothing but trash. Old WalMart receipts, tons of flyers from the parade, grocery lists, my temporary organ donor card, an old hydro bill (why is that in there?), movie stubs, expired coupons, applications for the movie reward card (please notice that was plural. I pick one up whenever we go), and ticket stubs from the Backyardigans (that was like 5 months ago).

Then there was my wallet, sunglasses, Maya's sunglasses, grocery list book, Symbacort inhaler, reservation confirmation from the hotel we're staying at next week, my keys, extra memory card from my camera, a nickel, a hair elastic, Abby's lip gloss, Listerine Pocket pack and tin of Dale Earnhardt mints that's probably a year old.



In my wallet I keep no money, so don't ask for any. Pictures of my kids and Robin's kids. Health cards for girls and I. Bank card, discount card, credit card, movie rewards card (finally signed up for one, but did it online so all those applications really were useless). Current coupons and that's it really. I actually keep my wallet quite neat which is odd when my purse is such a disaster area. Although it is clean for now, goodness only knows how long it will last.

And for the tags...... How about this? Feel free to play along if you like. And maybe you'll let me know if you did so I can see what you're hiding in your purse.

friday flashback - she is a mini me

Thirty odd years ago my parents had pictures taken of me in this dress.



Even I'm struck by how much Maya and I look alike. To further reinforce the idea, Granny picked up this dress for Maya. Not exactly the same, but close enough.

friday flashback - a mini uncle dave

About a million years ago my three year old baby brother flung his leg across the seat of my two wheeler and pedaled his way off down the street with nary a look back. In the interest of full disclosure I will tell you that this was the very same bike that I was having a hard time mastering. While the training wheels were on it mind you. And I was five. My Dad in all his crazy wisdom thought that mastering a two wheeler, sans the training wheels, might be easier for me. Why he thought this when I couldn't ride it with the training wheels on is beyond me, but I'm thinking that's crazy logic for ya. So anyway Dave and his perfect balance take off down the street and that was it. He's been riding ever since.

Bikes have always been a big part of Dave's life. Even now he's training for a major fundraising ride he's organized. He and a crew of like minded individuals will be riding the 1000 kms it takes to get around Lake Ontario later this summer in The Ride For Africycle 2.0.



Turning our attention now to "back in the day" - Dave was a competitive BMX racer. The picture above is Dave at the beginning of his racing career. He's probably about the age Abby is now. This was an activity my parents really got on board with. They found a track for him to race at and threw themselves into volunteering. They were a huge part of the success of the local track at the time. Dave's racing was a huge part of our family life.

Fast forward a few decades and here I have this wonderful little girl who not very long ago throws her leg over the seat of a two wheeler and off she goes with nary a glance back. Mike and I were shocked because whenever the subject of getting rid of her training wheels came up she insisted that she wasn't ready and maybe we should ask her again when she turned seven. Abby taught herself to ride at the sitters where there is a plethora of bikes to choose from. at home she only had one, a Dora bike she'd gotten a couple of birthdays ago. Mike took the training wheels off of it and adjusted it all he could, but there was no getting around it. She'd outgrown her bike.

We promised her a bike shopping trip, so one evening off we went. We had to make a stop at a sporting goods store where we only intended on purchasing shoes. Then the Cream Soda caught Abby's eye. It was the perfect size for her plus had room to grow. The frame was painted an iridescent baby blue, appropriately coloured streamers hung from the handle bars and it had retro styling. It was the bike she wanted. This particular Cream Soda bike had already been purchased by someone so we went to the bike section to pick out one of our own.

Arriving there Abby pointed a finger and said, "actually I want the green one." Right beside the Cream Soda was the mint green Polka Dot. Virtually identical bikes save the colour packages.

"Oh the Polka Dot? That's a nice bike too."

"No! The green one!"



I'm not sure why she picked this bike. And I do admit trying to talk her into one of the more girly bikes. Maybe she was channeling her Uncle Dave at that moment. I do know that she was adamant that this was the bike for her and nothing was going to change her mind. And after the sales people came back with a bargain basement price tag, a year of free tune ups and a very nice 5 year warranty we agreed as well.

friday flashback - those were the days

For some reason a long ago birthday popped into my head this week. The one where my brother wrote in his journal (remember keeping a journal in school?) that I thought I was "so hot" because my Grandparents had given me Jordache jeans for my birthday. Good Lord, Jordache jeans? Remember those?

That was the same birthday I got my boot roller skates, white with the red stopper on the front, and got to leave those metal ones that attached to your shoes behind. Remember those? With the metal key to adjust them? There wasn't much I loved more than those roller skates, I tell ya.


*Oh and for the record those jeans did make me think I was something spectacular.

friday flashback - i'm walking for my grandma

My Grandmother was one amazing lady. Her life was far from easy. She had a husband with a fondness for the whiskey. She gave birth to five babies, one while by herself in a truck on the side of the road in a snow storm. That same baby, they would later learn had Down's Syndrome and they kept him at home with the family. Their house had no running water. Every load of laundry required someone to pump bucket after bucket of water up from the well and dump it in the wringer washer and two rinse basins. All the clothes were line dried all year round. My Grandma was eco friendly well before it was ever popular. No running water means the "bathroom" was an outhouse. And it stayed that way until I was well into my teens.

There was no electric stove, no furnace. All the heat and all the food came out of the large black cook stove that stood center stage in the kitchen. So much energy was devoted to firewood. First acquiring it, then splitting it, storing it and then loading the wood box in the house. Then there was the fire itself. Starting one, keeping it going, getting it started again if you went out or went to bed. And then the cooking. I have never been able to figure how she managed to bake such amazing goodies in such an uncontrollable environment, but she did. Her hot cross buns were incredible. I haven't had one that comes even remotely close since she died.

My Grandma had no conveniences. No luxuries. She had no choice, but to be frugal and she was a master at it. Once all the grandchildren arrived our numbers hovered around 20 and even still there was a Christmas present for each of us. Anniversaries brought a care package to each of the "kids". A box filled with pasta, spaghetti sauce and various other pantry items. She knew how to work the sales. She was the money manager of the family. I still have one of her "ledgers". A cheap little lined notebook, that she bought for a quarter, where she carefully recorded that she had spent $12.58 at the grocery store, $2 on Robert's birthday and gave $2 to the Canadian Heart Fund. She was the money manager because my Grandpa didn't read or write, very well at all.

So my Grandma didn't have a life that could be described as easy. It was a lot of hard work, every day. Amazingly, it didn't make her bitter even though I don't think any one of us would have faulted her for it. What was even more incredible about her is she didn't judge. She didn't mind telling you how she felt, but there was never any judgment attached to it. In the year before my Dad passed away my parents separated. By and large it was amicable or at least they went to great lengths to make it appear that way to my brother and I. We did the typical children of divorce thing, spending every other weekend with my Dad. I remember Dad taking us to my Grandma's house on one of his weekends. When we got there she flat out told him that his name was mud with her, but that didn't mean he wasn't welcome in her home or at her table. You always knew where you stood with Grandma.

My Grandma was a good Catholic and while I think she may have been disappointed that I am not Catholic, she would love that I do attend church and would probably attend a service a two at my church, if only because Abby was singing. Religion was big with my Grandma and you think at some point in her life God would cut her a break, but that's not how it happened. Instead, my Grandma got cancer. And she didn't tell any of us. I still remember the night we found out something was wrong. My Grandparents and Ricky had been here visiting. It was only about 10 minutes from their driveway to ours, so they were here and awful lot. Especially after my Dad passed away. They were a big help during my Mom's adjustment to life as a single Mom. My Grandma had used the bathroom and when she came out she was adamant that they leave immediately. Not much gets by my Mom though and she knew something was up. Under Mom's persistent questioning, she finally spilled the beans. I don't remember the exact moment I heard the word cancer, but I know I never believed she would die from it. Probably because to believe that would have shattered my heart.

So she had radiation and then chemotherapy. Mom and I used to sit in the hospital with her during the chemo treatments. Often times it was just the three of us in the room late into the night. While I still believed that she would come through this okay, I missed tons of school just to spend more time with her. In the summer I lived in a tent in her yard, just so I could be of some help. Amazingly the "grown ups" all agreed to this, even though it is entirely possible that I had created work for my Grandma. Eventually it became clear that there would be no getting over this. That we were playing out a waiting game. And then finally, mercifully her suffering came to an end.

Explaining her death to Ricky was not without it's own challenges. We couldn't be certain how much he was understanding. Could he grasp the concept of forever? Could the rest of us? She was what kept this family together. She was the matriarch in the truest sense of the word. I miss her very much. It breaks my heart that she missed out on meeting my girls. And so I strive to teach them the very best of her and all the gifts she's given to me I hope to give to them.

Not surprisingly Cancer research is a cause that is very close to my heart. This June 21st I will be walking in a 12 hour relay as part of a team to help raise funds for the Canadian Cancer Society and cancer research. I have set a personal fundraising goal of $250. If you would like to help me reach my goal you can donate online here. Choose the "pledge a participant" option and type in my name, Shannon Revill, to get to my pledge page.

friday flashback - another mini me

The norm is that I find pictures of myself that look like Maya. In this one I appear to be channeling Abby.

friday flashback - the late edition

Phew it's been a rough week. Maya picked up some sort of a bug earlier this week, I'm thinking it was of the cold variety. There wasn't much coughing, but the nose was running and there was an attractive shade of green weeping out of her eyes and the fever. Oh Lord, the fever that wouldn't end. Well it seemed like it had ended some time through the night on Wednesday only to be back full force while she was at the sitter's on Thursday. And that ended up being the worst night of the week for sleep. Maya only slept in little bits that night, tucked in between Mike and I. Then she would cry for "Maya's bed" and once there she'd cry for Mommy. It's probably the only time I'd wished we had her big girl bed set up (it's in pieces in the garage). Then I could have crawled in with her and she'd have the best of both worlds which probably wouldn't have been what she wanted either.



Friday I decided to forgo the Tylenol and Motrin and let the fever run it's course, so I spent the day in either the recliner or on the couch with Maya sleeping intermittently on me. All day. So I missed the Ham Supper at the church, but Mike was nice enough to bring me a plate. Of course I had to eat it in the recliner over Maya's sleeping head, but at least I was by the window with the lovely spring breeze blowing in. Now I am happy to report that Maya slept all night by herself last night. This morning she woke with a smile, a cool forehead and scampered off downstairs to watch Playhouse Disney.... by herself. As in not sitting on me.

Not that I can say much. Apparently she comes by it honestly.

friday flashback - missing ricky

I took this picture of Ricky when I was about 17 or 18. I was taking photography that semester and I clicked this with the Pentax MG SLR my Grandpa had given me on permanent loan. It was one of the ones I ended up picking to be part of my final project. I can't remember the mark I got on the assignment or in the class and it doesn't matter because this is one of my most favourite pictures. Ricky always enjoyed mugging for the camera so it wasn't always easy to get a "nice" picture of him. To me this picture is really Ricky. He looks relaxed, happy and content. A few years ago I finally got around to framing it and ever since it's sat in our living room grouped with some framed pictures of the girls.

It hurts my heart when I think of the important people who are gone from my life that never got the opportunity to meet these beautiful girls of mine. My Dad, my grandparents and Ricky. I do my best share my memories of them with Abby and Maya. Maya's still a little young, but Abby seems to have developed quite a connection with those she's never met. She quite often talks about "her Uncle" Ricky which always causes the tears to well up in my eyes. I can only imagine how much they would have enjoyed each other's company.

Something we are not short on in this house is stickers and Barbies, but that's a story for another time. Easter, Christmas, Birthdays and sometimes just because it's Tuesday somebody is always giving my kids stickers. The other day I happened to notice one of the Valentine's stickers had made it's way onto Ricky's picture. Placed there by Abby against the edge of the frame the heart shaped sticker reads, missing your smile. I asked her, with tears in my eyes and a lump the size of Texas in my throat why she'd stuck a sticker on Ricky's picture. She answered. "because I like Uncle Ricky. He's always smiling at me from the picture." And for the eleventy billionth time since my motherhood journey began, my heart exploded.

friday flashback- the bobsey twins

There may have been a hint of panic in my Mother's voice when she asked me to help her shop for a dress to wear to my brother's wedding. You see, she had already purchased a dress, but it was beige, a colour she had just learned the mother of the bride had planned on wearing. It was only weeks until the wedding, no time to order anything in from a bridal salon. We were just going to have to go out and hope we found something, amazing, that fit off the rack.

As luck would have it Mom found a dress, she loved, in the first store we hit. It wasn't anything really fancy - read not your typical mother of the groom dress. I admit I wasn't sure about the dress as it hung on the hanger, but when Mom put it on I could tell it really suited her. Never once did it register with me that I had seen this dress before. My Aunt (my Mom's sister) had worn the exact same dress to a wedding she and my Uncle had attended earlier that summer. A wedding I also happened to be at. A wedding my Mother hadn't attended.

So fast forward to Dave and Mel's big day. Our entire family (aunts, uncles, cousins and so on) had booked into the same motel, so you can imagine what a flurry of activity that place was the day of the wedding. We were outside preparing to leave for the ceremony when my Aunt D (my Mom's sister in law) asked my Mom if she had seen her sister yet.

Do you see where this is going?



In what can only be referred to as a blatant case of great minds think alike. My Mom and her sister had inadvertently bought the exact same dress and then they both wore it to Dave and Mel's wedding. So very funny and luckily, they thought so too.

friday flashback - modern day crazy carpets

Do you remember crazy carpets? When I was a kid everyone I knew had crazy carpets and GT SnoRacers, but that was usually just the boys. Back in the day I thought crazy carpets were the bomb. Sure they were a pain in the ass to get unrolled and then to get them to stay kind of unrolled so you could get on them was damn near impossible, but if you managed to figure all that out the ride down the hill was awesome. Of course then you'd have to get off the damn thing, it would roll back up and after that long walk all the way back up the hill you'd have to wrestle with it all over again.

I have actually been thinking about the orange piece of rolled up plastic that was a crazy carpet a lot this past week. Well ever since Mike came home with a new "snowboard" for Abby. She's deemed it a snowboard, but it's really a sled or toboggan if you will. Which Mike scored for a sweet $5, proving yet again it always pays to check out the clearance rack. Abby has never owned a toboggan of her own before, beyond that wooden baby sled with the fuzzy red seat that we've all either sat in ourselves or strapped our little ones into and very often we've done both. To be honest she's never expressed any real interest in one before so we've never thought to buy her one. Then this endless winter hit and with it found Abby attempting to slide down the hill with a length of two by six and a cardboard box. So Michael came home with this...



Who knew there had been such advances in toboggan technology? This "snowboard" is as light as a feather meaning Abby can easily bring it back up the hill herself. There are easy to grip handles for both the ride down and the walk back up. The snow contact side has a slippery plastic coating on it that ensures speedy rides down the hill. It is everything the crazy carpet had hoped to be.

There is one section along our property line that slopes down into our neighbour's yard. It's a "hill" that's just big enough for Miss Abby to tackle all on her own. Actually it's enough hill for Michael too. The other day found him reliving his childhood by taking a couple of passes down the hill himself. And by a couple of passes I mean he was still "snowboarding" long after Abby come in the house. I'm sure you're all as disappointed as I am that I didn't manage to get any of it on camera. Don't worry since we're at the beginning of an apparent ice age I am confident the opportunity will arise again.

friday flashback - pack your bags

Well now this is just getting silly. As I type there is, yet another, snow storm raging away outside. For those of you keeping track at home, this is our second storm *this week*. Mother Nature has one hell of a sense of humour. And where is this global warming Al Gore keeps blathering on about? They are estimating 15 - 25 cm for today with another 5 over night with a dash of some pretty wicked winds. Abby slept over at her cousin's last night and we are anticipating she'll be sleeping there tonight as well. So like most people I am longing for spring and warmer weather, so it only makes sense that this week's Friday Flashback would have a summer slant.

When we were kids we went camping every summer. My parents at some point had purchased a tent trailer and we'd load up the van and haul it to Niagara Falls to the same campsite. I don't remember how long these camping excursions were. They seemed long and I know they were longer than a week. I do remember that Dad would "commute" to work from there. So there would be times it was just Mom, Dave and I there. It all sounds like a tremendous amount of work to me and one I wouldn't be willing to undertake with my kids. It's just further proof that my Mom was, indeed, super mom extraordinaire.



I have to imagine my parents had a traditional relationship when it came to these sorts of things. Meaning I'm sure my Mom gathered and packed everything necessary for the trip while Dad's job was to load it all into the van and trailer. I do remember for the sake of everyone's sanity when we hit the campsite we all made ourselves scarce while Dad swore his way through setting up the trailer. Once we were all set up we had the best time ever. Swimming, riding our bikes, painting in those books that already had the paint on the pages them you just needed to go over them with water, camp fires and all that fun camping goodness. I do have to wonder if Mom ever questioned during the "getting there" portion, if it was all worth it.

Luckily we had a very creative Mom and she figured out quick that she didn't have to do everything. That Dave and I would be pretty great helpers, especially if she made it seem like a game. Every year when camping time approached Mom would make us lists. Packing lists. Dave and I were responsible for packing our own suitcases for the trip. Seems like a big job, better left to the adults to ensure success. If I let Abby pack her own suitcase for a trip there'd be nothing but Princess dresses, high heels, dress boots and a tiara or two. She's one smart cookie, my Mom and I'm not sure how she came up with this idea, but it is genius.

Come packing day, Dave and I would get our lists. On these lists would be little hand drawn pictures. Seven little pairs of hand drawn underwear, seven pairs of shorts, seven t-shirts, three sweat shirts, three pairs of long pants and so on. All we had to do was lay our our clothes according to the pictures on the paper. It was great because it shifted some of her work load to us at the same time keeping Dave and I out of her hair so she could get her things done. Told you - genius. We haven't really traveled with the girls beyond an over night stay here and there, so I haven't had the chance to use this trick from my childhood, but it's tucked away in my "Mom folder" if the situation every arises. Thanks Mom.

friday flashback - i see it now

Recently I moved all of my photo albums out from storage, all for the purpose of Friday Flashback. I have really been enjoying looking through the pictures from not only my childhood, but my Mom's as well. Lately I have been picking an album to look at over the week. The idea being to find a picture that grabs me and have that picture and/or story be Friday's post.

Just about everyone comments that Abby looks like her Dad and Maya looks like me. I don't often see it, but then I found this...



This is a picture of me around the age Maya is now. Kind of freaky, isn't it?

friday flashback - coming by it honestly

I love to write. I don't think I set the world on fire with it, but my Mom says I'm good and that's enough for me. My brother writes too. Much better than I. My favourite is this short story intro for a piece I'm sure he has yet to finish, but I am dying to read it when he finally does. His writing style puts me in mind of Douglas Coupland, which I am certain would thrill him to no end even while he is heartily disagreeing. Or maybe he would agree, it's hard to say. (Dave?) I guess all this literary craftiness shouldn't come as any big shock since our Dad enjoyed writing as well. My memories of it are vague at this point. I don't remember seeing him actually writing, but I have seen the final product. I know my Mom has some of his poems in an album at her place. In fact I think our family's entire collection of Dad penned works is of the poem variety. Maybe that's all he liked to write. (Mom?) And I can't help, but wonder if he were alive today if he'd be a blogger.

Now while my Mom is currently housing the entire collection I do have, what I think to be, one of his two most important pieces. Back in November of 1980 when I was just seven years old my Dad put his thoughts about Dave and I down in poems. I have the original, written in pencil on a plain white sheet of paper signed Daddy 11/18/80 that my Mom, thoughtfully, laminated years ago.

Shannon
You are a child soft & pure
You are a child of peace & love
A child whose problems I can cure
A child whose problems I may cause
You are one of the few people I live for
There is no one known I love more
You are a child without hate
You are a child with much thought
These words have touched you before
As your life goes its own way
Take and keep a little of mine with you

Even now when I read this I can help but get a little bit weepy. I think his "take" on me back then is pretty dead on today and that truly touches a special place in my heart as much as that can hurt some days.

friday flashback - game night

It's been fairly well documented that I enjoy family game night, but this post isn't about Monopoly Jr. with Abby. There was game night when I was a kid too. Notice I left off the "family". We didn't have that when I was growing up. Sure we had board games and Dave and I did our fair share of fighting over Monopoly, but I don't really recall sitting down as a family to play chutes and ladders or anything like that. I remember Mom playing games with us, but not Dad. I mean he could have, I just don't remember. Plus he was more of a get down on the floor and wrestle with you kind of Dad.

My parents did play games though. Boggle was a huge favourite. And cards, Euchre mostly I think. Or if they were with my Mom's family, Holy. A card game that I still can't make heads or tails out of except it seems to require lots of yelling. I think Mike sat in on exactly one game and hasn't yet gotten the nerve back up to try again.

My childhood version of game night involved my parent's inviting another family over. The kids would play while the grown ups were seeing if they could score a six letter word in Boggle. Mom would buy the fancy crackers (vegetable thins). I remember as the evening got later us kids would get quieter and quieter, hoping our parents wouldn't notice the time and bring the evening to an end. Yep, game night with my parents was fun even if I never actually played a game.

I'm not quite sure why I was thinking about this today. I told Mike about it, assuming he had the same experience with his parents. I was surprised that he hadn't. I guess it was just my parents thing. To be honest, now that I think about it, I don't remember going to another family's house for game night. I believe it was always at our house (am I right Mom?). Back in our newly married days we had another couple we'd get together with to play cards, but we haven't done that since the arrival of our collective kids. I wonder why? Seems to me the perfect combination of fun and frugalness for the whole family. Two whole families actually. Maybe I'll have to spear head a campaign to bring back grown up game night. Who's up for Boggle?

friday flashback - another ricky story

I have a huge collection of pictures. There are endless photo albums staked in my closet and at least that many burned to disc by my desk. Friday Flashbacks could go on forever if I simply posted a picture once a week. Some of the pictures I have date back to when my Mom was a young girl and some earlier than that.



This picture of a young Ricky is one of my favourites of him. I have no idea where it was taken. I would assume somewhere on the farm, but maybe my Mom would know. I like it because it seems like an "artsy" kind of shot when compared to the rest of my Grandma's pictures which are very often shots of assembled groups. The kids on front of the Christmas tree or in front of the house in their Easter best or at a wedding.

Another reason I love this picture is because of that face. Ricky made that face his entire life. Usually when he was disagreeing with you. He would lean in, cock his head to one side and watch you out the corner of his eye with hands on hips. Ricky was as stubborn as the days is long and as I got older and became more involved in his care we had many a standoff. Much like the kids he pushed to see where the limits were and how long my patience would hold out. I remember Ricky staying with Mike and I while my Mom and Grandpa were visiting family out west. I suggested to Ricky it would be a good time for him to have a bath. For whatever reason, he strongly disagreed. And there we stood at a crossroads, neither of us willing to give up our position. It didn't seem like this was an argument I could win because as much as he was childlike in some respects he was also a grown man. So tucking him under my arm and depositing him in the tub was not going to be an option. I know he must have looked at me that night, his body arranged in that familiar pose, his head cocked to the side waiting for me to admit defeat, but back then I could be just as stubborn. Mike was there that night as well as my brother and a friend of ours. So I suggested that there was two ways we could get this done, he could get in the tub himself or I'd have the three guys watching hockey in the living room throw him in. Wisely, he chose option number one.

friday flashback - the one with the hall of fame

I have always been a big fan of board games. Which would explain Family Game Night, but with a five year old the games tend to be more of the Candyland, Memory, Uno and Monopoly Junior variety. Now I do enjoy those, don't get me wrong, but I'd be lying if I didn't say I was looking forward to the days where we can move into games like Trivial Pursuit, Pictionary and Scrabble. I have always loved Scrabble ever since I got Scrabble Junior when I was a kid (do they still make that?). Thankfully somebody invented Scrabulous over at Facebook, which is a Scrabble rip off. I'd tell you not to mention it to Hasboro, but I think they already know. Anyway I may be addicted to Scrabulous or at least that's what the 16 games I am currently playing are leading me to believe, but this post isn't really about me.

Now Mike's Grandma was just about one of the sweetest ladies you'd ever want to meet. I remember the first Christmas present she ever gave me. Well to be honest I don't really remember the gift, but I remember the tag. It was signed From Mike's Grandma. I assumed it was because Mrs. C*** sounded too formal, but I certainly couldn't (and wouldn't btw) call her Ida and I really hadn't been around long enough to actually call her Grandma. To be honest I tried my best to avoid calling her anything until Mike and I were married and then she was Grandma. There was so much that was special about Grandma. She was one of the most unintentionally funny people I'd ever met. She loved puzzles and almost always had one on the go. She was also an incredible knitter and we were lucky that Abby Ida Leanne came along in enough time that Grandma could gift us and her with some of her handiwork. That would be a newborn Abby wrapped in a Grandma Ida blanket, please note the brand new exhausted Mom look on my face.



One of the other things Grandma loved was Scrabble. She even had one of those fancy turn table boards that I 'm not sure I had ever seen before hers. Back in those days I was a mediocre player, at best. These endless games of Scrabulous have really improved my game play, but I still haven't had a 300 game. Now a game in which you scored over 300 points was an important thing because that's what got you on the box lid. The inside of the box lid to Grandma's Scrabble game was a hall of fame of sorts. There she listed any player that scored over 300 points in a game. This is something I plan on continuing when Scrabble becomes one of our Family Game Night staples. Until then Scrabulous will do, even if there isn't a hall of fame box top.