My Mom

Mary Raechel (Chalifoux) McGuire

April 17, 1934 - November 14, 2006

Paris fashions

Y'know my sister, Brenda, owns Raya, a groovy clothing store on the Drive? So when we were in Paris, we were keeping an eye out for fashion trends to help her keep up to date.

I have always enjoyed Vancouver's casual style, but seeing so many well-dressed, well-groomed Parisians made me wonder if there isn't room for a little less Goretex and a few more blazers in the local wardrobe.

The key question would be: If I stop wearing all knits, who is going to do my ironing?

I'm pretty sure that's the dilemma these three were discussing.

Zion says

Our friend's son (Jascha, 14) and daughter (Zion, 12) were over this evening, at Noah's invitation. Zion tells this story (paraphrase).

I have never been so embarrassed! We were playing Simon Says, and Jascha says, "Simon says, do obeisance."

So I said, "Jascha! C'mon. What does 'obeisance' mean?"

Then I looked down, and Noah was kneeling on the floor with his arms stretched out towards Jascha. "C'mon Zion. You're supposed to bow."

My baby's growing up

A few weeks ago, Steve pointed out to me that Noah had a loose tooth. I'm such a sap, I almost cried. And last evening, while we were at a movie, Noah gave his tooth a final wiggle et voila, it came out.

These waypoints sometimes give me premonitions of future days when Noah doesn't want a hug from Mama, wants me to drop him a block from his destination, and when the longest conversation he'll want to share is to ask, "Can I borrow the car?"

One tooth, one emotional trauma.

Out of office replies

Someone sent me these in an email, and I just couldn't let them just languish in my 'archive' folder.

Best Out of Office Auto Replies:

1. I am currently out at a job interview and will reply to you if I fail to get the position. Be prepared for my mood.
   
2. You are receiving this automatic notification because I am out of the office. If I was in, chances are you wouldn't have received anything at all.
   
3. I will be unable to delete all the unread, worthless emails you send me until I return from holiday on November 5. Please be patient and your mail will be deleted in the order it was received.
   
4. Thank you for your message, which has been added to a queuing system. You are currently in 352nd place, and can expect to receive a reply in approximately 19 weeks.
   
5. I've run away to join a different circus.

-------

And since I'm in a sharing mood, go check out 'Monk-e-mail' (click the link in the sidebar). Steve and I gutted ourselves recording a birthday message for friends. I think it's most fun for the sender, so go dress a monkey and send someone a goofy message. You'll like it.

The cupboard is bare

Donations to the Greater Vancouver Food Bank are at an all-time low. Yikes. While they've normally raised around $150K by this time of the year, they've only raised $22K this year.

Scary.

Especially since I had Noah, the thought of hungry children breaks my heart. (See, I'm tearing up just writing this.)

The food bank can turn a dollar’s cash donation into three dollar’s worth of food through bulk discounts and corporate matching.

If you donate only $10, that's like a $30 donation of food for a family. And $20 makes $60, and so on, and so on...

I'm an arts major; you do the math.

Jardins de Versailles

One of my favourite days in France was spent walking around Versailles with David and Jen.

We had a picnic of bread, cheese and wine (but of course) under the trees, and Steve was much moved by the experience.

I enjoyed this series of shots Steve took, because with the aid of the zoom function, they give you an idea of what it would be like if one could actually walk on any of the grass throughout the grounds, which, of course, one couldn't.

While I played paparazzi to the garden's bees. . .

David and Jen passed the time en garde. (I wish I could post the video of their fencing match, ending with Jen's near puncture and dramatic response.)

I am not particularly interested in classical statuary, but as Versailles is practically over run with hunks of marble, I felt compelled to represent that. This tortured soul called to me.

FMS setback

We left Paris on Wednesday. On the following Saturday, David (Steve's brother) & Jen (Dave's darling) were going to an art opening. Guess who else was invited?

I'll bet Johnny loves karaoke.

FMS

I was planning to share the exciting news that I've finally booked our tickets to Paris, but the process pushed me to reveal to you that I have a behavioural disorder called FMS. My friend, Alison discussed her symptoms with me a few years ago, and I was able to self-diagnose.

FMS (the Fear of Missing Something) manifests itself in many ways, including:

1. an inability to put down a book once you've started it
2. a compulsion to read through the entire menu despite having seen your favourite dish on the first page
3. an inability to leave any social situation, even a deadly-boring party, because you think that the moment you leave: (a) Johnny Depp will arrive, (b) people will start dancing, (c) the host will break out their karaoke machine
4. a compulsion to check every store in the mall even though you've found something you like in the first store because you might find something: (a) cheaper, (b) that will go with everything you already own or (c) that will make you look thinner.
5. an inability to book an airline ticket a month in advance because you're sure a seat sale will be announced the day after you book

So here we are, flights booked 8 days before we depart for Paris. It's a good thing Steve's brother, David, lives there or I'd now have to spend a week not booking accommodation.

And unless I have a strong need to procrastinate, this will be my last post until we return since I've now got to spend the next week shopping, grooming and packing.

29 in Imperial years

Happy birthday to me! Okay, so it was September 8, but this is pretty close. And since I get to celebrate 'birth week' every year, and 'birth month' on the big years, this is still technically birth week.

We went out for sushi, sushi, sushi and a movie on the 8th, and on Saturday we had dinner at my sister, Robin's. Fun times had by all.

And in honour of Steve's 40th (in July), our 20th anniversary, and my birthday, we're going to Paris. As in France. Next week.

I guess I should book tickets.

Guess what?

Guess what happened 20 years ago today?

Here's a hint.





















And there's more to the romantic tale.

Our first date: Grad '83














And they called it preppie love.

Weekend to End Breast Cancer

Sixty kilometres, 2,100 walkers, $5.5 million.

That’s how I spent my weekend -- The Weekend to End Breast Cancer. And I’m sorry if this seems long, but I couldn’t boil the whole event into a smaller package.

Going into the weekend, I thought the main point and the hardest part was the fundraising. But my experience this weekend, and my sore feet today, are telling me something different.

Walking so far, with so many other women (and a few men) was . . .

I’ve sat for five minutes trying to think of the right word, knowing it sounds artificial and cheesy to say it was ‘amazing’ or ‘inspiring.’

It was hard. It was hard to get up off the grass at kilometre 30, knowing there were five more kilometres to walk. It was hard to get out of bed at 5:30 Sunday morning to walk another 25 km.

It was hard to watch a teenage girl stop walking at kilometre 55, step off the sidewalk and collapse onto the grass, crying and shaking her head.

But it was a relief to see a volunteer crew member pull up almost immediately to offer a ride in his motorcycle sidecar if she decided she couldn’t get up again.

It was fun to hoot and laugh with the volunteers who stood at the roadside dancing in elaborate costumes, ‘high-fiveing’ every walker who went past. And it was nice to accept a cold drink or a candy from residents standing along the route, cheering us on.

And it was funny to notice that most walkers spent a lot of extra time at the refreshment station run by 20+ male firefighters.

And honestly, it was painful to walk the last five km with muscle cramps and wickedly sore feet.

So my team members and I made the only sensible decision we could. We signed up for next year's walk.

You might think the aching muscles and sore feet would make me determined not to walk again. But they’ve just made me determined to train a little harder, stretch a little longer, weigh a little less, and try a different running shoe.

And I feel a little self-conscious saying this, and I know it sounds totally cheesy, but even if it dooms me to a career writing for ‘Chicken Soup for the Walking Soul,’ I really do mean it.

If my feeling a little pain means raising more money for better diagnostics and treatment, and that means someone fighting breast cancer experiences a little less pain, then okay. I can do that.


So this is a huge ‘thank you’ to those who donated to the cause, who supported me and our team while we were fundraising and training, and when we were walking this weekend. And this is a reminder to those who haven’t yet donated to click this link.

And this is invitation to you to walk with us next year. We start training in September.

Pictures to follow.

Station identification

I have no energy or wit for a perky post about what's going on in my life these days. Consider this the coloured bars that fill the screen after a station goes off the air for the day.

I'll see you when I've been re-energized.

Back Home Again

We've actually been home for a week, but I have been -- I was going to say 'fighting a cold', but the reality is I just lay down and let it do its thing. Go, germs, go. I found lying on the couch, unwashed, to be the order of the week.

But it's off to the paying job tomorrow, so I'll have to shower before noon in that new reality. I need a word to convey my lack of enthusiasm tempered with resignation. How about 'shrug'.

I think we needed to schedule a week of holidays to recuperate from the vacation. In 13 days, we drove about 5000 km, I got two good nights' sleep and read NONE of the five books I took with me. We hit Williams Lake, Prince George, Edmonton, Valemount & Robson Meadows campground. We saw four parents, three brothers, one sister, two cousins, and four nieces & nephews. We took one niece and one nephew camping and embarked on a 14 km, three-generation hike. (Steve carried children for about 5 km.)

I think I'm fully justified in getting totally sick and doing little more than reclining. I did make the time to finish Pride and Prejudice. Though I'm not sure that counts as productivity since I've read it before.

Tom's boiling the kettle for a cuppa, so I'm off to find a strategic position to engage in full sloth, and be able to balance a hot cup. Wish me luck.

Deadline driven

I was going to start with "I love deadlines." But that's not strictly true. I love completing tasks and being able to tick them off my 'to do' list, and that seems only to happen when I have a deadline.

My current deadline is this Friday when we start our holidays.

(For all you criminals scouring the internet for such mentions, I'll warn you now that we own an old TV, no stereo, a somewhat aged computer, and our music collection consists largely of cassettes we bought in the 90s and titles such as "Wee Sing and Play". Oh, and our nephew will be moving in while we're gone, not to mention that our tenant is hyper-vigilant.)

So before we go, we have to clear up the chaos under which our yard is obscured (this involved an extensive sub-list), get the many, many plants I wintersowed into the ground (except for those I've promised to others), and complete three writing jobs.

Plus, I've decided to sleep a little (this to be started once this post is complete).

We (mostly Steve) worked like dogs Saturday and Sunday, and got the yard closer to a zen-like state: plants planted, delivered to Brenda, or arranged for easy watering; got 6 kids to Sunday School; went out for a Father's Day lunch, and I completed one of the writing projects. Oh! And I walked 10K with my Weekend to End Breast Cancer Team.

So now all that's left to do is write a fact sheet about drinking water and a press release, get all the laundry done so we have clothes to pack, have the house nice and clean for nephew Tom (use new vacuum!!), lace up for a couple of 6K walks, do a volunteer shift at the thrift store, and ultimately address my obsession with parentheses.

Fundraiser success

You know that I usually really enjoy hosting a garage sale. And now I know that adding a plant sale to the work of a garage sale just makes it too much stress and work at once. But the positive side is that we raised about $1,000, and netted about $800 after paying for the hall, supplies, etc.

We had tons of much-appreciated help in Aaron, Debra, James, Jeremy, Joshua, Linda, Wendell, Abby, Ed, Zion, Brenda, Bev, Henry, Melanie, Keziah and Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve (since he did the work of 10 in picking up truckloads of donations, organizing our garage so they'd fit, transporting plants & boxes to the sale, working the sale, then transporting truckloads of leftovers to the Burnaby Hospice Society Thrift Store, then driving across town to return the borrowed truck).

I'm too tired to be clever and witty. And I really am supposed to be working.

Deja back pain

The eloquence of Devo.

"I am so tired. How long can this go on?"

My house is a frightening mess because instead of vacuuming and doing dishes, I've been out preparing for the plant sale. Today, Robin and I divided a gazillion iris rhizomes and potted up half-a-gajillion Chameleon plants. (It changes colour depending on how much sunlight it gets.)

Instead of doing laundry (which is now more difficult because the dryer isn't working), I'm potting up Asters and Chamomile.

And instead of cleaning the bathroom, I'm tidying up all the pots, bags of soil, and trays of plants, (not to mention dropping a table on my toe) so my backyard doesn't look incredibly chaotic, just cluttered.

And all that adds up to another marathon session, and renewed back pain. I'm out of my mind.

But it'll all be over (at least for this year) after next Saturday, June 10, with our Fabulous Fundraising Flea Market. Come one, come all.

Pincushion

Did you know that if you spend 10+ hours in the garden without a break, you risk painful reminders of exactly where your iliocostalis, rhomboid & trapezius muscles are located?

The physiotherapist suggested that pacing myself would be a better strategy; the massage therapist offered the advice that a bit of stretching might have been helpful; and today, the doctor who was carefully poking me full of accupuncture needles just shook his head.

I hadn't tried accupuncture before today. It was a bit odd taking a cross-eyed look at the needle protruding from my face, but my favourite part was watching Dr. Frame untangle what looked like tiny jumper cables, which he then hooked up to the needles on my back. I must have left my lights on.

Hmm. I just realized there's no conclusion to this story.

P.S. I walked 6 km last Thursday & 15 km on Saturday, with no negative affect on my knees or leg muscles. Phew.

Feeling festive

CBC rocks. Rocks, rocks, rocks.

On Friday, I was listening as I worked, and CBC was talking about all the festivals, markets and fun events being held this long weekend. Then they said, "And the next four listeners to email..."

So I clicked over to my email...

"...on the coast at CBC.ca..."

I typed that in.

"...with 'Children's Festival' in the re: line..."

I take direction well, so did as instructed.

"...will win four tickets to the Children's Festival."

I hit send.

Ten minutes later, CBC called. Noah, Steve and I* rocked out the evening with Fred Penner, Robert Munsch, 'Sharon, keep ya hair on', 'Everybody's in the band' & Ranganiketan.

As if there weren't enough good reasons to listen to CBC.

*We tried to bring Shonna, but she was out running errands. Seems to me an obvious message from the cell phone gods.


P.S. Steve's putting Noah down for his nap right now, and I just went in to give him a "nap-nap" kiss. I was making silly sounds in Noah's ear and he seemed to be ignoring me. Then he turns to Steve and says, "Daddy, I think I hear a pig."

Garage sales and other adventures

Oh, oh, oh. What a good week it's been. Later this week, I'll update you on the other good stuff, but today it's 'stop the presses' for a garage sale bulletin.

On Saturday, all other priorities were set firmly aside so I could attend the Queens Park neighbourhood garage sale. This is the second year I've spent the morning wandering the lovely streets of New Westminster's nicest neighbourhood, browsing through some of the 90+ sales.

It's such a great community event, wandering around, chatting people up, buying lemonade and cookies from budding entrepreneurs and, of course, finding all sorts of great deals.

My sister-in-law, Tarra, and I towed Noah's wagon for a couple of hours, then Steve joined us and emptied the wagon's contents into the car. Steve made repeated excursions back to the car to store too-large items, thus reinforcing his princeliness.

And thanks to my brother, Bruce, bringing his lovely digital camera (and of course, his wife Tarra, my shopping companion) I have photographic evidence of most of my buys. Technical difficulties will prevent your seeing the round wrought-iron-framed mirror that will hang in my entry way, my forgetfulness the lovely flowering shrub, and the fact that I gave them away before I took photos, the chili-patterned mugs I got for Robin.

Here are a few of the more photogenic purchases.



Heart-shaped candy dish - 50 cents













Magician's jacket and velvet cape - $2
(Cute little boy not purchased at garage sale. Cost me two years of sanity and $55K/year, but recently appraised as well worth the price.)















Three videos and four CDs - $10














Soft, pink poncho for my niece - 50 cents

































Three stainless bowls, in which to display pre-chopped ingredients, ready to be added to recipes - 50 cents

Two chrome Umbra towel rails (desperately needed for my bathroom) - $8

Spending the day bargain hunting with two of my favourite people - priceless.

Mangolicious

The other evening Steve and I had a long-overdue visit with friends from my ex-work.

TO DO: clean house, decide what to serve. Hmmm.

The six-pack of mangoes I'd whimfully purchased at Costco the week before were "aheming;" a gentle reminder not to let them rot in their groovy podlike container. So I Googled (yes, it's a verb) "mango appetizers," et voila! A luscious selection of mango-based recipes for our gastronomic pleasure.

I didn't even waffle very long; three recipes chosen, I shopped for additional ingredients and whipped up three appetizers in under an hour. They were very easy to make, looked very luxe, and were mangolicious.

MENU (I think I improved on the recipe names)

Mango salsa and chips
Shrimp & mango bowl
Brie with zippy mango
&
Mango margaritas

If you're very nice to me, I'll make some when you next visit.

Woof!

I would've posted something earlier this week, but my arms were sore after working like a dog for 10 hours, cleaning and painting my sister, Brenda's rental suite.

How can people leave a suite without vacuuming or cleaning the toilet? The tenants were indignant that B wouldn't give them their damage deposit on the spot. "We've left places way dirtier than this!" was their best defense. We took photos of giant cat-hair bunnies (apparently "no pets" meant little to them), smoke stains (interesting interpretation of "no smoking"), stove-top crud hidden under foil covers and a large hole in the gyproc. I'd post them, but besides being across town, the pictures are disturbing and this is a 'G'-rated site.

So after scrubbing, painting and dragging a steam cleaner around the suite, I was too tired to type.

But by today, I was rested up. So we spent the day in the garden, moving plants around, and moving all my seedlings onto the walkway so we could mulch all the beds with compost. Before he left, Steve was trying to decide whether to buy a half- or full yard of compost, and his indecision resulted in him buying 2 yards. (Buy bulk and save -- he couldn't resist a second yard for a mere $10 more.)

So our neighbours benefited with the addition of some organics to their garden beds. And Sunday is the New West plant sale, so I'll be able to fill all the gaps in the garden with lovely, cheap plants. W-hoo.

I'm going to borrow a camera so you can see pics of my garden. I promise.

Must sleep now. Be good.

Not blogworthy

Why is it that I'm so busy, yet having nothing to blog about?

I signed up to volunteer at the Burnaby Hospice Society's thrift shop. I'm awaiting their call to duty.

I've joined the New Westminster Horticultural Society and have been helping prepare for their annual plant sale, making identification tags to stick in the plants. My wrist hurts.

I've been planting pretty flowers in pots. My nails are dirty.

Today we painted my niece, Kaitlin's, bedroom. My hair has pink streaks.

I'm going to a birthday party tonight. I must go cook.

It's hip to be four

I understand in theory that Noah has influences other than Steve and I, particularly since he goes to daycare two days a week. But when I see little manifestations of those influences I'm still amazed and often, amused. Here's today's gem.

Noah: "What are you doing, Mama?"
Me: "I'm opening my door so I can see if I'm inside the parking spot."
Noah (as I maneuver): "Okay Mama. . . . Yup. . . . That's good."
As I stop the car, Noah puts his hand in the air, palm towards me: "Yay, Mama! You DID it. High five."

Now!

Burnaby Now, that is. Saturday's paper and the online edition did a feature story and photo on our Weekend to End Breast Cancer team, Sisters for Sisters.

I'll leave you to read the story.

Instant gratification

I sowed over 200 Zinnia seeds last Thursday, and as of Tuesday, the first tiny, green sprouts are poking their heads out of the soil.

H'ray.

Sowing about 200 Cosmos today. Wait for news.

Last frost date

Did you know that my area's last-frost date is March 31? Isn't that amazing? What it means, essentially, is that I'm totally behind in sowing seeds. The sweet peas I sowed in February are four inches tall and doing beautifully, and the carnations are tall (but too spindly).

I just sowed zinnias today, and there were so many seeds. Someone remind me never to buy a 'Jumbo' pack of seeds again. I sowed 300 seeds, then invited the neighbour kids to sow a fibre-pack of 8 seeds each (40 more seeds) and still have another 20 or more seeds left.

I haven't blogged for two weeks because I felt like I had nothing to report. But I did get a few good scores at IKEA as-is, and at the Burnaby Hospice Society Thrift Store, including two IKEA vases (those from the thrift store) and waterproof pants to garden in (Lower Mainland gardeners don't have the option of just waiting until the rain stops if they want to get anything done in the spring).

Then there's our beautiful entry way. Our neighbour is a tile guy (sorry for the technical terminology), and found us a super deal on slate tiles last fall. Then this last week he installed them for us in our entry way (to cover the decaying and tacky parquet floor) and outside the front door (to cover the grey concrete slab). They're gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.

And if you're thinking, "We need a picture," you're just going to have to drop over and take a pic so I can post it. A digital camera is not in my immediate future. Hmmm, unless I use points....

So if you have a spare half-day, feel free to drop by to see the new tiles and plant some seeds. The materials are around back.

So I married an alien

Over the last 20 years or so, I have occasionally had the feeling that Steve was from another planet. Not Mars or Venus or any of that rubbish, but I've had this inkling that there was something about him that was absolutely foreign.

And this morning my suspicions were confirmed.

Steve and I had an extremely late night, preparing for a fundraiser for the Weekend to End Breast Cancer, and when Noah sailed into our room this morning with a chipper, "Good morning!" I was unable to move or form a coherent response.

Steve, on the other hand, rolled out of bed to hug Noah and wish him an equally good morning. He then went to the kitchen to get Noah's breakfast, and I could hear him singing, "Good morning, good morning from the sun. Good morning, good morning everyone!"

Steve returned to our room, still singing, kissed me, and asked if I'd like toast or cereal.

I rest my case.

I wonder if there's a support group.

What might have been

My sister, Robin, reminds me that it has been 11 days since my last post.

And it's not like there was nothing I could have written about.

Even before my last post, I missed the opportunity on March 8 to talk about International Women's Day.

And did you know that March 10 marks the 130th anniversary of the first transmission of recognizable speech over the telephone? I'm a communications major; I took Paul Heyer's Communications History course; I actually knew this, but didn't post.

And March 15, 1967 was the day the music for "O Canada" was copyrighted.

And as a McGuire, surely I should have made comment on March 17, Saint Patrick's Day.

But did I? No. Instead I spent most of the last 11 days lying in bed or on the couch, wrapped in a comforter, coughing up a lung. Conclusion: Colds are bad for bloggers.

Fickle, thy name is weather

Here it is, my first spring with a garden to watch, and it snows in March. Argh.

We've had the most volatile weather for the last four weeks, it amazes me. Cold, frosty mornings; the odd warm, sunny day; wind knocking out trees and the power; thunder and lightning; driving sleet, you name it.

And this morning, it snowed about an inch in an hour, then stopped. This afternoon it was bright and warm.

I have daffodils I'm waiting for. Stop with the snow. Enough.

This'n that

Quick things.

1. I'm going to be famous.

2. I have fabulous new hair.

Famousness: I sent a press release to the Burnaby Now, the local community paper, about "Sisters for Sisters" and they're going to do a story on our mission to complete the Weekend to End Breast Cancer benefiting BC Cancer Foundation. I think that's a good use of my 15 minutes.

Hair: I wish I had a digital camera. I dyed my hair Deepest Indigo, and got a new 'do. (If you click the link, then click on 'deepest indigo', you get to see something similar to my new cut.) On our way down to the salon, Noah asked why I was going to get a new haircut.

"Is it to make your hair pretty, Mama?" (I replied in the affirmative.)

"But you're already pretty, Mama."

THAT is a child destined for politics, sales or P.R.

Frightening.

P.S. I haven't bought new seeds for days. I did buy some peat pots. And my Globe Amaranth are up!!

I may have mentioned this before

Go team! Now there are four of us signed up as a team to walk in the Weekend to End Breast Cancer on August 19 & 20. Click this link, select 'Search for a team' and enter 'Sisters for Sisters'.

We had our first team meeting yesterday to plan fundraising and to figure out a day we'd all be able to get together to walk.

W-hoo! Want to help us save the world? Come walk with us, or make a donation (or BOTH!) It's going to be great.

Are you ready?

Noah says his chocolate chips are singing a song called, "Are you ready for happiness?"

I think I'm going to have to write that song. Stay tuned.

P.S. I bought six more packets of seeds the other day.

I could stop anytime

Hi. My name is Candace. It's been 16 hours since I last bought flower seeds.

It's my sister's fault. Brenda wanted Carnations, so I had to find seeds. Then I saw the Johnny Jump Up seeds, and the English Daisy mix, and the Dianthus Double Pinks, then the exclusive offering from Mr. Fothergill's for Comedy Mixed Violas (only 99 cents!!). How could I stop myself?

But I can't really blame Brenda.

Dad has to bear some responsibility as well. He got us kids into gardening young. It started with picking rocks, sowing seed, then soon he had me started on my own flower garden.

Over the last 20 years or so, when we lived in apartments, I suppressed the urge to garden, but when we bought our house in 2004, I started thinking about peat pellets, soil amendments, plant cages . . .

So here I am with a huge inventory of seeds, and the frightening realization that if one package of Sweet Peas covers half a table, then the 37 other packages of seeds are going to fill my house with seedling trays.

Oh. My. Goodness.

37 packages. I need help.

Have any room in a south-facing window?

Happy Valentines Day

I hope you have a lovely Valentines Day. (These aren't rank ordered.)

I love Steve. I love Noah. I love my family. I love God. I love my friends. I love that my sisters live so close. I love my friend, Alison's blog. I love chocolate. I love doing work that will make the world a little better. I love my garden. I love the colour of my kitchen (Green Balsam). I love a good night's sleep. I love a hot shower. I love the smell of oranges. I love good writing. I love candlelight. I love the smell of clothes just out of the dryer. I love singing. I love warm socks. I love lemon marmalade. I love tidy, organized places. I love lists.

How does your garden grow?

I've lived in the Lower Mainland for 20 years and am still a little surprised when cherry blossoms start appearing in February. This is my first spring with my own garden, and I am just blown away that there's already life in my flower garden. Some of my rockery plants are evergreens, and are now flowering, yes, flowering.

Part of my disbelief is because I'm originally from Prince George, and am used to the garden being under two feet of snow at this time of year. My in-laws are skiing, and I'm trimming back last year's perennial growth and sowing seeds.

Isn't it WONDERFUL?!

I'm sowing tons of extra seeds this year since I'm planning a plant sale as a fundraiser for the Weekend to End Breast Cancer.

Any suggestions for favourite flowers I can grow from seed?

Task avoidance

Yesterday, Steve comes home from work and says, "Wow! The house is really clean. . . Do you have a deadline?"

Who'd have thought that polishing the kettle with baking soda (it is SO shiny!) would be an indication of a looming deadline. But it is. Our house was never as clean as when I was doing my B.A. and had exams or papers to prepare for. When I was facing a 5,000-word report on the history of psychology (one of the reasons I dropped psych as a minor), cleaning the fuzz out of the fridge's vegetable tray looked appealing by comparison.

Of course, Steve speaks not only from observation, but from experience. We had an incredibly-productive garden the year Steve was (supposed to be) writing his master's thesis.

I'm sure the four of you who read my blog would prefer that I procrastinate by writing blog entries (which I'm doing now), but if you could see your face in my kettle, you might just change your mind.

Bad blogger

Bad, bad blogger.

Yeah, pretty pathetic that I haven't blogged since Noah's birthday. Even though I had to bake three birthday cakes, host two birthday parties, two grandparents, and two nephews that week, and since then have been assessing Passion 4 Action's marketing tools, hosting two nieces, and a Bible class, not to mention spending two days on computer upgrades, and attending a half-day brainstorming workshop, I really should have spent some time blogging.

But then there was the weather.

How much grey can one person stand? I'd say about half of what Lower Mainlanders lived through in January. Blaargh.

So the sensible thing seemed to be to sign up for the Weekend to End Breast Cancer. Seven and a half months to transform from slug to fundraising athlete. Here I go.

How many is four?

Four years ago today, I lived through an amazing, life-changing event. My son, Noah came skidding into the world at 7:18 p.m., weighing in at 9 lbs., 11 oz.














Over the next few days and weeks, I lived the words of John Mellencamp's song, Between a Laugh and a Tear: "I know there's a balance, I see it when I swing past."

But four years has taken the edge off the harshest memories of sleep deprivation and insecurity and left that hazy image of a beautiful babe happy to be cuddled in his Mama's arms.





















I know all kids grow and change, but he still manages to surprise me when he learns something new or moves on to a new stage. I remember how, at bedtime or naptime, he would cry and beg me to stay. Now, when I ask if I can stay and cuddle he says, "It's okay, Mama. You go nap on the couch. It's more comfy."

My boy is growing up. I suppose I'd better, too.











Happy Birthday, pumpkin.

But wait! There's more.

Northern holiday: long story

Weather: Excuse me, but we did not drive 800 km north for a GREEN Christmas. Prince George was a half degree off the 1947 record for the warmest-recorded Christmas day. Wrong. Wrong. In every way wrong. We were looking for more of a ‘Walkin’ in a winter wonderland’ vibe. And thankfully, the weather turned on Boxing Day and we got a foot of fluffy white in which to ski, sled and snowmobile for the rest of our holiday.

Singing: W-hoo! Strolled my brother, Mike’s street with my sisters, admiring elaborate light displays and carolling. We sang Noah’s favourite version of Jingle Bells. As Noah sings it: "Dindoo bewws, Batman smewws! Wobin waid an edd!" Followed by huge belly laughs.

Two of the four times we went to karaoke (that’s right, FOUR), there were hardly any singers, so I got to sing, sing, sing. It was SO cool. My favourite was when my sister, Brenda sang ‘Leader of the pack’ and sent half the patrons into apoplexy when she screamed, with extreme authenticity, “Look out! Look out! Look out! Look out!”

Catch-up: I got to visit with high school friends (it still stuns me to think I’m old enough to have a friend who’s a doctor and the head of her department at the hospital), and family I don’t get to see often enough. We met for dinner at Mr. Jake’s, a childhood favourite, and breakfast at the Hart Wheel Inn, where everyone stared at us until we sat down where my Dad was waiting. I could see them thinking, “Aaah, one of Pat’s girls home for the holidays.”

Relaxation: Grandma got up with Noah almost every day, cooked us lovely meals, and fattened us up with ANZAC cookies and Christmas pud’. Grandpa kept the fire going, fixed snowmobiles, hauled out sleds, and loaned us winter gear. Staying at Steve’s parents is fabulous. A log house on the lake, hot tub on the deck…Wait. Click this link for a few thousand words’ worth of pictures. (Steve’s parents rent out the house in the summer while they’re off hiking and kayaking, and generally worrying their poor children.)

So here we are, home again to early mornings, cooking for ourselves, working, bookkeeping, and all the rest.

A final, unrelated thought. What possible use is the highest setting on a toaster? So far, this is the only scenario I see: “Oh, Fire Inspector Jones! You say the fire started with the toaster? And nothing is left of my cramped, hopelessly-outdated kitchen. Oh, the tragedy!”

Hi honey, we're home

MCGUIRE BILLINGTONS RETURN TO LOWER MAINLAND

NEWS FLASH - Clan McB returned safely to their home approximately 10 p.m. Wednesday, January 4.

"Roads were bare and dry, except for a half-hour patch of light blowing snow," reports Steve. Candy & Steve are pleased to report that Noah proved to be a good road trip companion. (That is except for the incessant, unanswerable questions. A budding inquiring mind.)

While the McBs were happy to return to their own bed, they had a rude awakening when no grandparents were available to get up with their son the next morning. More shocks occurred once the McBs reviewed weigh scale and VISA bill readings.

"We return from our trip 'fat broke'," quips McGuire, "so we're heralding a new era of low spending and low-junk eating."

But the main reason for the McB announcement of their return is to offer not-seen-in-the-last-two-weeks opportunities for socializing. "Call us, email, or drop by!"

As an added bonus, those wishing to 'spend time' with a curious almost-four-year-old could offer the movie-deprived parents a night out. "We haven't seen Harry Potter, King Kong or Narnia yet," wails McGuire. "What will people think?!"

Details of the McB adventure in the sometimes green, sometimes frozen north available soon!!

- 30 -

P.S. We missed y'all.