Top Ten Reasons Why You are So Special and
(after 40 years) I'm Glad You're My Sister

1. You always listen to me no matter if I'm crying, ranting or just feeling sorry for myself.
   

   
   

2. You make friends where ever you are whether it's in a bar or at the counter of a cheese shop. ('cause you never know who you might be talking to – dotcom millionaire or local wino)
   

   
   

3. You are passionate about whatever you are doing and make everyone around you care too.
   

   
   

4. You always were our grandfather's favourite and he must have recognized something early on that I have only come to see with the wisdom of age.
   

   
   

5. You get my boys. Each one of their quirks and eccentricities and you bring out the best in each one of them.
   

   
   

6. You will spontaneously sing "It's a Long Road to Freedom" with me.
   

   
   

7. You back me up when I buy yet another pair of boots (aren't we lucky to wear the same size?)
   

   
   

8. You brought PJ into our lives with joy and determination despite everything you and Paddy went through.
   

   
   

9. No one (except our brother and you together) makes me laugh more or harder.
   

   
   

10. You know me better than anyone else. Through Monday morning temper tantrums leaving for Havergal, frat parties at McGill, Christmas parties at the farm, weddings, break ups, babies and in the not-so-distant future, teenagers. You have been there, not necessarily close by, but always at the other end of phone whether I'm drunk dialling, crying or laughing.
    

    
    

    Not everyone has the kind of relationship we have, I have been surprised to learn and it might be because we haven't lived under the same roof since 1978. But whatever the reason, I am so glad to have you and your little family close by to celebrate with on special occasions like this and to just hang out, spending time together. Watching PJ take his first steps between his cousins, cheering on whatever sporting endeavour the boys are participating in and every once in a while, just the two of us. And I hope we can fine sometime to do just that, - before you turn 41.
    

    
    

    
    

    
    

    
    

    
    

    
    

    Happy 40^th Boo. I love you.
    

    
    

    
    

Twas the night before All Hallo's Eve

Halloween seemed a little discombobulated this year. Maybe it was because it was on a Sunday or the fact that it was really cold but we didn't even get out the decorations until the day of and only got so far as to put a few cobwebs up by the front door. In contrast to our old street in the city where we'd get over a hundred trick or treaters, here on our quiet cul de sac of eight houses only my cousin's son and a couple of neighbours rang the bell. The kids, mine included, are smart enough to know you get way more candy per street if you go to the high density neighbourhoods.

But we adults did get out the night before for a few treats and lots of fun as witnessed by photos below.

Breakfast at Tiffany's meets Bonnie while Clyde was getting them drinks

(Apologies to Audrey and Faye)

Lisbeth Salader, Holly Golightly, an Angel and a Witch

Not sure who is Madder? The Hatter or the Devil.

Barbie & Ken were the perfect hosts once they came out of their boxes.

Everyone was getting into the spirit including Number Two Son and

his cousin who modelled matching Spiderman costumes.

Finally the big night arrived and the ghosts, ghouls and zombies were out in full force.

The Motley Crew consisted of a Dirtbiker, Zombie Lumberjack, Mini Spiderman, Little Red Riding Hood, an Old Rich Guy, 80's Skier and Zombie Abe Lincoln. I never know what they are going to be until the last minute. Number One Son actually changed from a Hobo to Old Rich Guy about five minutes before we headed out.

The Lumberjack met up with his good buddy Shaun White who found trick or treating while carrying a snowboard a little tiring but at least he was dressed for the frigid temperatures.

I also had a revelation this year while trying to come up with a good couple costume for my Other Half and I - we need to really be in disguise. My wonderful Clark Kentish hubby definitely comes out of his more introverted self when he dons a costume but this year's tweed suit and fedora just wasn't disguise enough for him to let loose like last year's leather biker chaps and tattoo sleeves did. He said he felt too much like himself or at least his old self who used to wear a suit and tie every day.

Lesson learned. Next year there will be make up and/or masks involved.

Muse Still Missing

So please enjoy these photos which are completely out of order. Why is it so hard to move them around?

The Regional Cross Country Race

Number One Son came in 18th out of all the 12 & 13 year olds, all 145 of them!

Number Three Son came in 22nd out of 240 8 and 9 year olds!!

The oldest group is off

Number Three waiting for the gun in the Reebok Hockey cap that never leaves his head

Of course, I had to get some shots of the spectators while the runners were out of sight in the woods.

One in particular

A great day was had by all

Fall Colours

Despite the grey skies threatening rain all last weekend the colours were still brilliant in the Park. Here's a few photos.

Going through the creek

Reflections

Cold boat ride

Yes, that's me cutting the cheese

It's amazing how life can get away from from you when you are not paying attention or you try to do something new. I am helping some friends out one day a week in their new shop, The Cheese Gallery. It's a fantastic place where you can buy a hunk of stinky cheese, sip a cup of tea, have your favourite painting framed or even enjoy a glass of wine with some cheese and crackers. In a town of 1400 people sometime you do have to be all things to all people. So on Tuesdays I can be found behind the counter - yes, "cutting the cheese" (sorry, hanging out with boys does tend to rub off on me) It is great fun, I am learning lots about the cheeses from France, England, as well as our many fine Canadian artisan cheese makers. Of course there is lots of joking about the old Monte Python Sketch and thanks to the wonders of YouTube I can share it with you.

But back to the problem of letting things get away from me. The boys seem to be coping with me not picking them up from school and my wonderful Other Half has rose to the occasion making dinner for us but this week I also had to go down to the city for a day and of course picked up a nasty cold bug and spent yesterday in bed watching "Glee" on demand. Today I am feeling a bit better, still have a pounding headache and won't make it over to the school to help with the Terry Fox Run. But I hope to sleep enough to be able to rally tonight as we have tickets for a Fundraiser and I borrowed a dress just for the occasion which is a big deal in my world. So the laundry has piled up, there's no food in the fridge, I'm hoping the boys have kept up with their homework and the poor dog hasn't been walked in days. How silly of me to have thought every once in a while that I would like to have a "sick" day. As my youngest said last night when he came in to say goodnight to me, "but I thought Mummys didn't get sick." They do but it's rarely worth it.

Still at their beck and call

When the boys were little I was literally at their beck and call. For years I never seemed to be able to enter REM sleep because their was always a diaper to change or worse, an entire sleeper to be peeled off a cranky baby or a bucket needed beside a nauseous toddler or wet sheets to be changed. During the day it was constant diaper changes, non stop nursing, meal prep and clean up. One day morphed into the next until slowly we came out the other end of babydom and entered preschool world. Now I had a few hours with everyone off at school, time flew by in a haze of errands run without a stroller and quick uninterrupted conversations with friends. The nights were less hectic, I found myself waking up in the morning thinking that something must be wrong, no one had called out for me.

And so now we have moved all too quickly out of those early school years into the era of pre-teen angst and a whole new round of becking and calling. I have more time without them but now it's not as easy to make plans with friends because inevitably someone will need to be taken to the arena or picked up from dry land training or so-and-so wants to sleep over and can we go rent a movie or go to the theatre to meet the gang? It is never ending. I used to call the lists and schedules I left for whichever set of grandparent was babysitting for a few days "The Care & Feeding of the Brothers Grimm" but now it's less care and feeding and more "Chauffeuring and Digital Monitoring"

There's homework and the dreaded school projects. There's hockey practise and football tryouts. And now there's facebook and MSN monitoring. Our eldest doesn't have a cell phone yet and isn't really lobbying for one (although Number Two Son is) but I am starting to think it might not be a bad idea so I don't have to turn up at the arena only to be told he's going home with so-and-so or arriving at school to find no one there because they have all made plans and I'm not in them.

I'm not complaining, I just don't do change very well. Every transition I find myself clinging to the old days of making meals with one in the high chair, one on the floor with all the tupperware out of the cupboard and one playing with Play Doh on the counter. Now it's rushing to get a meal on the table before practise, watching which website they are surfing out of the corner of one eye while I squint with the other to read another permission form for yet another sporting activity. Change is good, change is inevitable but I still don't have to like it.

From the sublime to ridiculous in under three hours

Summer is over and I just haven't had the blogging muse strike me in a very long time. But this morning I am sitting drinking my second cup of uninterrupted coffee because it's just me and the dog at home. Yes, no boys (they slept over at my Dad's) and my Other Half is off at a much deserved golf weekend with the boys. Did I mention that I had the house to myself last night? I don't think in the three years we have lived here I have been alone in it for more than a few hours. I love being alone. I watched Date Night last week and I loved the scene where Tina Fey's character describes her fantasy of being alone in a quiet hotel room with nobody touching her and drinking a Diet Sprite. I got my fantasy last night.

Alone, lit a fire and opened a bottle of wine, fired up the Kindle and read some of Quinn Cummings essays from Notes from the Underwire. It was perfect. And this morning as I await the return of the mob I have had time to make myself a pot of steel cut oatmeal which takes at least a half an hour and I try to make but never have time to eat, catch up on my favourite blogs and start planning for the arrival of four more children, two mothers and two extra dogs for the night. From the sublime to ridiculous in under three hours.

So back to the reason for my absence from the blogosphere this summer, I think I might have to take a look at what I am doing in this blog, a few others I read have either disappeared or have been reinvented, not sure if I need to do anything as drastic as that but I think something needs to change.