Winter in Victoria

It's official. We brought winter with us. The snowman above was built last Sunday. He has now keeled over. There is still lots of snow and slush, but the temperature seems to be climbing back up to Victoria norms, and I think our proper winter will not last much longer. We certainly have made the most of it though. Monday the kids and I trekked through Beacon Hill Park. It was all drooping with snow and quite magical. We passed a lady with a bundle buggy full of bird seed that she had been distributing in clumps along the path, so we kept interrupting large crowds of feasting ducks. When we finally made it up the hill the view was spectacular.

Sledding with an ocean backdrop:





I am presently waiting for two girls to fall asleep so that Saint Nick can make an appearance.
I hope you all have a wonderful day, and a peaceful holiday. We'll be thinking of you! I'll be back in the New Year (I will probably make a resolution about becoming a more consistent blogger). Thanks for reading.

Merry Christmas!

And more parades!

That's Santa climbing to the top of a mast on a sailboat in the Lighted Ships Parade.




And here comes a Lighted Truck! Yes - we made it to both events. After some careful analysis of the truck parade route, I established that the trucks would be rolling through downtown around 7 p.m. - the same time as the boats would be making their way around the Inner Harbour. So around 6.45 pm we headed out in the drizzle and made our way to the harbour, stopping to admire the lights on the Legislature.



There was no sign of the trucks, though the streets were lined with people waiting, so we strolled through the harbour, oohing and aahing at all the boats with Santas and candy canes glowing up their sails. We walked out along Ship's Point, where there was an evening market and carolers singing under a marquee. It was all quite magical - the only thing missing was snow (the white spots on my photos are only raindrops reflecting the flash). A few of us have been experiencing some mild snow withdrawal, but nothing too serious. We soon heard a truck honking a monochromatic Jingle Bells, so we raced back up to street level and made it to the corner of Government and Wharf in time to catch the first truck in the parade. What a parade! My picture doesn't do it justice at all. There must have been a hundred trucks, and they were going along at quite a clip - it is a much speedier parade than the regular one with floats. All sorts of trucks, from Canada Post and Thrifty to antique fire trucks and concrete mixers with strands of lights spinning around their barrels, all honking away merrily. Needless to say, Sam was in heaven - I heard him say something like "I always wanted a truck parade". Dylan exclaimed "Best Parade Ever", and as most of you know, he is not prone to hyperbole. We were standing just opposite Roger's Ice Cream Parlour, so when it ended the children campaigned for hot cocoas/ice cream. These are times when the small city living really pleases me - even though we were on a busy corner following a double header of Christmas merriment, the crowds thinned quickly. There was no bustling or waiting or traffic jams to deal with. You have to love a place where getting your driver's license or passport form processed only takes five minutes. Even the Christmas shopping is less of a mob-scene (but maybe that is more a sign of the times?)

So there you have it. Next up on our social calendar is skating with the Brownie troupe tomorrow night. I'll leave you with one more brief episode in the life of a four-year old (this one goes out to my nephews in Ottawa, who love Sam stories). Last Friday at preschool, Sam and his classmates created little reindeer out of toilet paper rolls, with glued-on paper antlers and googly eyes and a little red pompom for the nose and a little black pompom for the tail. Sam and his buddy charged out of preschool with their reindeer flying through the air, but soon the little red pompom fell off Sam's reindeer. (That non-toxic glue they use is almost useless). I tried to convince him that the nose would be safest put away in my pocket, and we could glue it back on at home, but as you can imagine this logic escaped him, and for a couple of blocks we would walk a few paces, notice that the nose was missing, and then retrace our steps in search of the missing pompom. Finally Sam decide to hold the reindeer sideways, on his back so to speak, letting the nose balance on top. In this manner we made it all the way to the video store, where we had a late DVD to return. We had just made it into the store when Sam held his reindeer up, and in the very instant that the nose began to roll to the floor, a large black dog approached. The next part sort of played out in slow motion as we watched the dog immediately scarf down the red pompom. I was terrified that this would trigger another melt-down, but Sam was just stunned. "WHY that dog want to eat my reindeer's nose?" was the loud and persistent refrain. I had the job of simultaneously trying to answer this question while locating the dog's owner to let them know what had just been ingested (it was the shop owner's dog, and he/she was not present at that moment). We quickly exited the store, and all the way home the refrain continued, regardless of what answer I gave ("the glue must have smelled good", "maybe he thought it was a candy", "maybe he thought you were offering it to him", "dogs just aren't that smart", "it was bad timing on the part of the loose nose" etc, etc.). All of a sudden he stopped walking, and looked at me accusingly and said "WHY you not get my reindeer's nose back for me?" To which I could only respond "WHAT? You wanted me to put my hand inside that big dog's slobbery mouth and try to find it for you? He would have bitten my hand off!" This made him laugh, and he said "You tell Daddy what happened to my reindeer. And the bit about why you not get it back." We got home and found another pompom on one of his sister's dress-up hats, pulled it off the hat and voilà! Rudolph is all better.

Now I'm going to watch some TVA and Radio Canada to find out what happened in the Quebec Election. I could watch the English CBC, but watching Quebec news en français soothes my late-night twinges of homesickness. Plus I get to feel good when they air tomorrow's météo! (Sorry).

Peacock Parade

As the market plummets, realtors find a new client base seeking improved lodging for the winter months.

No, I haven't completely abandoned my blogs... I've just been distracted by work and school, as well as parades and other pre-Christmas festivities. I'm almost tempted to write this post in point form, so I can get all caught up. So much for the lull...

Following the last episode, I went off to the library where I borrowed books with titles like "How to behave so your preschooler will too", and "Easy to love, difficult to discipline". I haven't actually read them yet, just having them is somehow reassuring. We thankfully haven't had any scenes quite as dramatic as the last one, and I find that my old December refrain of "Santa's watching" is still working to our benefit. (If I looked at the books they'd probably nix that technique, but oh well.)

Two weeks ago we had a lovely visit with my Vancouver sister and her children (known to readers of this blog as Amalia and George). Their visit coincided with the November Christmas parade (as opposed to the December parades coming up this weekend). We decided to get in the spirit of things, despite the fact that yes, it was still November, heading first to the Empress where there are over a hundred Christmas trees lining the halls and lobby, decorated by local businesses as a fundraiser for local charities. I had already walked through and had the idea of setting a little scavenger hunt-style checklist for the kids, so all the children (except Sam, who chose to skip the outing and stay home with Dylan), happily traipsed around the trees, hunting for the one with the giant sea star on top, etc. and picking their favorites. When they had checked off everything on their lists and won their chocolate letters, we went on to Munro's, where the children's department was hosting a pre-parade event. We were a little early, so the kids got good seats for the Christmas stories. It soon filled up to the point of near-claustrophobia, so once they'd heard a few stories and won some door prizes we squeezed back out to find people already setting up their lawn chairs along the sides of Government St. We went home for a quick supper before heading back out to the parade. This time we convinced Sam to join us, and Dylan came too. I never attended the Santa parade in Montreal because the idea of trudging downtown and standing in the cold and the crowd with three small children seemed too much like a recipe for disaster, but here in Vic, with the mild weather, and living only two blocks away from the starting point of the parade, it all seemed much more manageable. And it was quite a lovely evening parade, with all the floats lit up with Christmas lights. The only snag was a little run-in my sister had with some local diehard Santa fans. As we had not set up lawn chairs hours before the start, we walked along, aiming for the strip in front of the Empress, and when we found a spot where the crowd was not too thick, the cousins all squeezed towards the front, followed by their aunt (Dylan hung back because he's tall enough to see over heads, and I stayed back with Sam who was already fussing about wanting to go home). I asked Dylan if he could see them, and he said "yes - they're in a little kerfuffle". I later heard from my sister that the people they were standing next to, a few adults on lawn chairs, had complained loudly, saying they had been waiting 45 minutes, and now their view was blocked. Seeing as the children were only next to them, and not actually in front of them, my sister felt this was ridiculous as well as unjustified and said firmly: "It's a SANTA parade. And they're CHILDREN." Really. I'm glad it was my brave sister who was up there with them and not me. I probably would have apologised meekly and pulled the children back. I couldn't believe this when I first heard it, because all the adults in front of me and Sam kept offering to let us through so he could be at the front. He flatly refused until he realised that candy was being given to all the children in the front row, and then finally agreed to go stand with his sisters. We enjoyed a happy Sunday of pancakes and running around the Royal BC Museum before they headed home across the Straight. We have the Lighted Truck Parade and the Lighted Ship Parade to choose from this Saturday (is there a way to catch both? how can we choose? why do they both have to be the same evening? stay tuned next week for answers to these and other questions).

In the meantime, we had, last Sunday, a very unique parade. It was Dylan who spotted it first out the window. They were walking down the street, slowing traffic. I ran out with my camera and got the photos you see above and below. I don't know where they headed next, as I retreated inside after a passerby commented on my "cute pyjamas". I came in and said to my husband "I don't know how you did it - I've never had a peacock parade for my birthday before", to which he replied "I tried to get more, but they only let out six at a time."

Stormy Seas

The photo above was taken last Wednesday - D. and I had just picked up Sam from preschool and were driving back along the Dallas Rd. We decided to stop and take a look, as the tide was especially high (because of the full moon? I need to learn more about tides). It was quite a sight - the water was lapping at the wall and I was relieved to observe that the tent that had been parked there on our last few visits was gone. This is the beach we can walk to from our house - known to locals as Glass Beach for all the sea glass you can find there. It's true, there is quite a bit, though only little pieces, mostly green or brown with the occasional speck of blue glass- the children feel particularly lucky if they find any blue. So do I, really.
Not too much to update on as we settle deeper into normal routines - school and work during the week, trips to the library and the pool on weekends, although we did have a lovely brunch at a neighbour's house last weekend, and our first taste of the Victoria Symphony. I took the girls to the Royal Theatre to see the first concert in the children's series: a presentation of Raymond Briggs' The Snowman with the symphony playing the score, followed by Peter and the Wolf. They had activities before the show (the symphony's instrument petting zoo as well as a snowman craft, where I chatted with another mum from Sam's preschool. I was quite missing the random meetings that occur on the street or in the grocery store, but slowly it is beginning to happen here.)
I also wanted to report on the beautiful Remembrance Day ceremony held at the girls' school last Monday (the 11th is a statutory holiday here in B.C.), complete with a piper and honoured guests from the Armed Forces and Esquimalt Nation. It began with O Canada. (I think this is the second time I've sung the national anthem in that school. I have never, ever sung the national anthem in a school setting before. In fact, I was embarrassed to find that when it comes to singing it in French, I only know the half of the anthem that is sung before hockey games. The rest is fuzzy.) Alexandra and Lily have both joined the school choir so they sang a song about peace. All the classes presented a wreath, and the grade six children recited 'In Flanders Field' in English and French. It was a very moving ceremony, quite a contrast from the intercom announcement for the moment of silence I grew up with. On the 11th, Dylan took the girls to the cenotaph. I stayed home with Sam, who refused to get out of his pyjamas, and I chose not to battle with him partly because of the peaceful example I should be setting, but mainly because I knew he wouldn't keep silent for an entire minute. As another mother so eloquently put it "it's not the terrible twos, it's the f*%&ing fours". The boy really, truly knows how to throw a tantrum these days. A tantrum for a trifle. Take yesterday, for instance, as we were leaving the Y. He realized as he was going through the turnstile that he hadn't been given the opportunity, as he had on his way in, to swipe his membership card. "I NEED A TICKET. I. NEED. A. TICKET.", he howled and howled. As I calmly attempted to explain that we only need the "ticket" on the way in, he took it up a notch, sprawling on the floor in front of the turnstiles, repeating his mantra at the top of his lungs. The patient young woman who had been behind him finally stepped around him, looking down and saying "it's not the subway." I handed the soggy swimsuit bag over to Alex, picked up the flailing, screaming child and headed out to the car. But I needed to put him down to open the door. This is when he stepped onto the lawn beside us to continue his fit. I got the girls and the bag in the car and began to approach him when a I noticed a fresh, recently squashed dog turd directly in front of him. I yanked up his foot to confirm my suspicion. All over the bottom of his shoe. So I yanked the shoe off his foot, not wanting him to spread it everywhere with his still flailing limbs, and less calmly got him into his car seat. He continued to scream all the way home "STOP THIS CAR. I NEED A TICKET. LET ME OUT OF THIS CAR." His sisters were both trying to quiet him, telling him I was sure to crash (this is what I tell them when they are bickering in the back seat). Finally, as I was pulling up behind our house, he changed his tune to "I'M BLEEDING. I HAVE A BOBO." I swiveled around to discover a gash on the side of his foot. His bare foot because of the dog shit on his shoe, and because he had refused to put his socks on after the swim. His bare foot, which had been wildly kicking against the back of the passenger seat on our '88 rattly Chevy. A car that has a METAL ASHTRAY on the back of the passenger seat. Honestly. I wish I could make this stuff up. Lily ran into the house to get a bandaid while Alex raced into the studio to recount the episode to her father. I finally cleaned the hysterical boy up, calmed him down and said to Dylan "you can feed them KD for supper. I'm going to the grocery store". Wandering the grocery aisles on my own calms my nerves, and I made an impulse buy - a small container of 7-layer dip. Quite a discovery - this dip with refried beans, sour cream, guacamole, chopped tomatoes, shredded cheddar, chopped scallions and olives is a veritable meal in one. You've got all the food groups when you pair it with chips. I got home to find the children fed and quietly watching a video so I fixed myself a G & T and had lime tostitos and dip for supper. True story, but not one you will find on my food blog. For anyone wondering, Sam was fine. I, on the other hand tossed and turned for some time last night wondering when his last tetanus shot had been and whether it was possible that there was any rust on that stupid ashtray. FFFFF*&%ing Fours.

Halloween in the Garden City

Hmm. Still no comments. I was sure that bringing up politics would get me some reaction. Oh well - back to the more mundane. I had wanted to add that other than the snarky comments (which my Vancouver sister explained as "West Coast alienation"), it was a very nice Halloween party. Sam had a rather severe reaction on arrival, due to the dramatic face paint on the man who opened the door to us, but was soon distracted by the candy hunt in the backyard, and then felt comfortable enough to enter the house. Our next event was the Halloween dance at the girls' school, held on Thursday night. I decided to leave Sam with Dylan, and just take the Alexandra and Lily. It was a funny sort of event - like a high school dance, in the gym with loud music and a disco ball, except it was for elementary school aged children, so they were just running around smashing into other people. Lily found her friends quickly (it was completely dark in the gym except for the disco ball) and ran around with them. Alex took a little longer to locate her group, and then kept losing them in the darkness. I stood on the sidelines thinking that this job really doesn't pay enough. The attending parents seemed divided into two groups - those who wanted to dance with their kids, and those, like me, who just wanted to go home and put our kids to bed so we could watch Law and Order. Speaking of law and order, I couldn't help noticing a couple of children dressed as gangsters and sporting guns - one was a super-soaker, but one was a rather realistic looking toy rifle. As I watched the young man taking aim at various children on the dance floor I felt my stomach turn. The following morning after my volunteer duty I spotted the VP in the hallway and asked his opinion. For the record, this was the first time in my parenting history that I have ever raised an issue with my children's school. I'm pretty easy going, and I don't like to cause problems. And I certainly don't want to be a party pooper, but guns in schools make me sick for obvious reasons. The VP had been in attendance the night before, and said that he had also been concerned (he'd spotted a real set of nunchucks as part of someone's costume) and that there is a district wide policy in place about no toy weapons on school grounds, that is why they have "wear orange and black" on Halloween instead of having the kids come in costume... but the event in question had been planned and promoted by the parent's advisory committee as a fundraiser, and it was the first one they'd had, and he would be bringing up these concerns in a follow-up meeting.
That afternoon the kids came home and helped Dylan design and carve their pumpkins. They went trick-or-treating up and down our street and came home to pig out on their loot. Saturday I spotted a poster for a "Pumpkin Art" event, so after dinner we loaded into the car and went to admire hundreds of intricately carved pumpkins, grouped thematically on milk crates in an empty warehouse on a pier by Ogden Point. I enjoyed the Royal Family pumpkins and the Star Wars pumpkins and was beginning to admire the Charlie Brown pumpkins when Dylan stepped behind me and whispered in my ear "They're artificial." Sam had been begging to leave ever since his run-in with Darth Vader, so with that knowledge, we headed home. We had a little debate on the way back on the importance of them being fake. The girls didn't seem to care - they still enjoyed the display (they had even borrowed my camera to capture the pumpkin portraits of Princess Lea and the Beatles). All in all it was a very festive week, and now we can enjoy the lull until Christmas.

Now call me Devil's Advocate

The forecast for the rest of the week makes it look like the Gloom the native Victorians speak of is about to descend upon us, so I got out with my camera today. I wanted to reassure everyone back east that the west does get its share of impressive fall foliage - just not in the large swaths we're used to. When we arrived in August the Empress was cloaked all in green. I have the feeling she was an even more glamorous sight last week when I made a mental note to come back with my camera, but it's hard to tell for sure. (The Japanese maple in our front garden was also flaming red last week, but has dropped the deeper coloured leaves and is a now more copper than crimson). Please note two of our favourite trees in front - Sam calls them dinosaur trees but they are really weeping sequoias.
I know there have been some flurries in certain parts of Canada, so I won't go on about our lovely picnic at the beach yesterday - it's sure to come back and bite me with sixty consecutive days of rain. Instead, a story of a happy Canadian, turned bitter Quebec Nationalist when provoked at a children's Halloween party. Not really. I bit my tongue. But nothing brings out the quiet separatist in me like someone comparing my compatriots to "those dreadful twenty-somethings who want to move out but still go home to raid the fridge and do their laundry". Perhaps it was my two years at the Cégep du Vieux Montréal, surrounded by all those péquistes in the height of referendum fever, but I feel something for the Quebec cause - not at all that I would like to see Quebec separate, but simply that I love Quebec, and do understand it to be something special, and that it shouldn't be dismissed as a parasite. That's all. And how bizarre - I say I just moved here from Montreal and you decide to tell me all the reasons why my home province disgusts you? Learn some etiquette. This is not our first encounter with the anti-Quebec sentiment - a man in a car yelled "frog" at Dylan (!) when he saw the license plate on Big Red. It all makes me want to start up some sort of cross Canada exchange program for students who have never travelled to other parts of the country, because I clearly remember all my hardcore separatist classmates at the Vieux coming back after a summer of bumming around BC, all much milder in their political convictions. I think it would work vice versa as well.

Food Blog Launch!

Special announcement for my foodie friends: I've just launched a new food blog called Feeding Five. Check it out! http://feedingfive.blogspot.com

Return of the New Vics

I'm back. And feeling more pressure than ever to write. Everywhere I went I heard the same refrain: "you haven't posted since SEPTEMBER 25th!". To which I replied "wasn't that just last week?" (please note my trouble telling time). Like any writer, I appreciate an audience, so it was reassuring to know that you're out there. Thank you readers! And to save you all the trouble of checking regularly when I only post sporadically, I've added the subscription gadget, which I assume will send you a message to tell you when I've updated. The trouble is, when I blog less, I get more emails and phone calls. When I blog more, you get your update but I don't get mine. So keep in touch, folks. And I'll try to be a better blogger.
I left off last month with a teaser, so to sum up: September was an exciting month here in Victoria. We all enjoyed the South Park Family Festival held at the school near our house. The highlight for the girls was meeting Queen Victoria (a parliamentary player) who made an appearance to cut the cake. Alex has a better grasp of history than Lily, so understood that this was not really the Queen. Lily however was quite taken in by the performance and I had to explain later that Queen Victoria is long gone. Still unconvinced, she continues to tell people that she's met Queen Victoria. The highlight for Sam was the painting activity on the field: some brave parent had donated their vehicle to be decorated by the children. And the highlight for Dylan was the performance by Valdy. The following day I took the kids over to Clover Point where we met up with a cégep friend now living in Vic and watched the Snowbirds together. Dylan passed ("you don't want to google air show casualties").
Things have quieted down now. The cruise ships stopped passing through as of Thanksgiving and we hardly hear the clippety clop of horse and carriages going past our house these days. The weather continues to be spectacular. On the way back through Vancouver last weekend I read an article in the paper on Severn Cullis-Suzuki in which she talks about the importance of rooting into the place where you are. I'm trying to follow her advice, and get more settled in this place. Last night I took Alex to her first Brownie meeting. One of her new friends is involved and encouraged her to join, so off we went to an old Scout Hall with wonderful murals of totem poles and canoes on the walls. She came bouncing out an hour later with her crate of Guide cookies to sell and an invitation to her enrollment ceremony. This morning I went to a yoga class at the lovely Hemma studio near the girls' school, and tonight Dylan is taking Alex to see the real Dylan live, in person! It's funny how leaving and coming back can make a place seem a bit more like home.

Call me Queen of Procrastination

I can't believe I've let this go for two weeks. And not for lack of things to report either! Now I've got more than I can comfortably fit in one post. I'll have to do some catch-up installments. (Or just edit. There's a thought.) Picking up where I left off, I did go to the Emily Carr house that day, but realized that I wouldn't have enough time to tour the house, so I just enjoyed the gardens instead. There are little stations throughout, with excerpts from Carr's books and it made me think I should actually read some of her work as I've only enjoyed her paintings up until now. It also made me think I should try to be a better gardener.
On Friday, Sept 12th, Dylan drove me and the kids up to Swartz Bay where we took the 6 pm ferry to Tssawassen. The crossing was magnificent - see photo. The spectacular sunset was the start of a wonderful weekend with the cousins. George had a morning class at circus school, so the girls played with Amalia, and got to harvest the potatoes they'd helped their uncle plant in the spring, while Sam got reacquainted with his beloved Gobots. After a picnic in the park, we fulfilled a promise to take the children to Playland (this was the primary reason for the trip - we made the promise in the spring, hoping to put a silver lining on the dark cloud of making the kids move. When my sister called me up to let me know that time was running out for Playland this season we decided to make the most of the glorious weather.) Sam was a little under the weather, but still enjoyed the rides. Lily and Alexandra had the time of their lives, running from ride to ride with Amalia, George and a few of their friends. Needless to say, they were all exhausted when we returned and flaked out in front of the t.v. allowing my sister and I to fit in a quick shopping trip to H&M.
Sunday was equally beautiful, but after two late nights the kids were a bit challenging. We had lunch at Little Nest - the funkiest little 'parent-friendly café' just off Commercial Drive, serving exquisite food (I had a green papaya salad with lime, chili and cilantro dressing). Unfortunately, Sam completely decomposed mid-meal. I can't even remember what triggered the tantrum but it wasn't pretty (one broken saucer, one scratched mother...). We quickly finished up and made our way to the park around the corner (where, my sister informed me, one of the scenes from Juno was filmed - she is the ultimate Vancouver tour guide, I have to say, fits in all the best destinations). The kids played happily for an hour until it was time for us to catch our ferry home. The trip home was not quite as magical as the one there, but I suppose that's true of most return journeys. We were lucky to be on the Queen of Vancouver vessel, and to be walking on, as there had been trouble on an earlier crossing with the Queen of B.C. (a log in the propeller? something like that) and there were delays for cars.
The following week was fairly uneventful, although there was a meet-the-teacher night at the girls' school. I had already met their teachers, but went anyway. I was somewhat preoccupied by the newness of the building (1997! Have any schools in Quebec been built in the past 50 years? I haven't been in any of them), and found myself distracted during the speeches in the gym, examining the seismically sound steel reinforcements propping up all the beams. Very impressive. I think in the event of a major earthquake, the kids would definitely be safer at school than in our house (1899, no seismic upgrades to my knowledge). But I'm not supposed to dwell on the 'what ifs'. I had a nice chat with one of the other mums from Lily's class, who, in an incredible case of "it's a small world after all" turns out to have been taught Latin by my mother at The Study 20 years ago. We didn't actually discover this at meet the teacher night. A mutual Montreal friend had given us each other's info, and when we made contact we were astounded to find that our 6-year olds were actually in the same class, sitting at the same table in fact.
I'm going to have to tie this up for now, as I've been alerted that blogger will be down for maintenance in a few minutes. So I'll sign off with this teaser for my next post: Valdy! Snowbirds! Never a dull moment in Vic!

Victorian Homesick Blues

Not to worry, I just thought that would make a good title.
Although there is some truth to it. But first to cover all the good stuff, of which we are fortunate to have lots of. Top of the list: we are now connected! But not by Telus. I grew tired of their "we're just not that into you" attitude and told them I was canceling my unfulfilled order. We signed on with the good people at Shaw instead, and they came when they said they would come and hooked us up. This happened last Friday, which was a beautiful day, so to celebrate Dylan and I took Sam to Willows beach where we played in the sand (ok, they played, I lay) and watched a sea otter playing off-shore. The girls were at school, and thankfully they have settled in quickly and have each made a few friends. Having attended the same school for all 12 years of my primary and secondary education, and then sending my kids to a school in a neighbourhood where I knew (what felt like) half the population, I was quite unprepared for the feeling I had entering the schoolyard on that first morning, without a single familiar face in the crowd. I think it was good because it meant I was in the same boat as the kids. The school seemed very organised, with the principal and vp on a stage in the school yard, introducing the new teachers, and then calling in last year's groups one by one. There were tables set up with coffee and healthy snacks, and the kids played on the playground until it was time for the new students to follow the principal to the multi-purpose room (with parents being dragged or pulled by their children). She sat them down on the risers and gave them a cheerful speech about how they were so lucky because this was the best school ever, and she'd been new last year but it only took a matter of days before she loved it and was sure they would all feel the same way, etc, etc. There were a few weepers up on the risers, and I was grateful that mine were not among them. Lily was a real trooper, smiling and nodding at the principal's enthusiasm, while Alex shared a rather discontented face that was sported by most of the other unhappily relocated older children. Since then there has been no turning back, they joyfully bike to and from school (Dylan accompanies them), and on the way home the bike along the Dallas Road, stopping at the beach for some rock-climbing, and sometimes for a grilled cheese or a milk-shake at the the Beacon HIll Drive-In. (This part makes me think of Harriet the Spy always stopping at some restaurant for custard on her way home from school. I have yet to go to the Drive-In myself).
Another piece of last week's news is that we traded in Big Red. We were sad to say good-bye (Alex especially, who I think has overdosed on good-byes, and cried as Dylan drove off in the truck), but it had failed inspection here and was not eligible for BC plates, so we were on the lookout for another used vehicle. Dylan spotted an ad in the paper for an '88 Chevy Celebrity (sort of a shrunken station wagon). It's not pretty, but it drives well and uses a lot less gas, and I don't have to worry about the kids scraping their legs on the rust as they climb into the car. We took the Grey Fox out for a spin on Sunday, driving to the Sooke Potholes for the afternoon. Not that kind of pothole. The naturally occurring kind in a river bed. We've had a string of really perfect fall days, and are trying to make the most of them before the rain!
Sam started at preschool on Monday, and let me leave within the first five minutes this morning, which was encouraging. I have signed up for an online course so that will keep me busy on his preschool mornings. I've been up and down on this roller-coaster adjustment ride, trying to enjoy the beautiful surroundings and not let myself loll in loneliness, or resentment for D. being so blissfully content here. I'm not exactly lonely, I'm just having trouble getting used to being so far away from everyone, and I wonder if I want to get used to it. Oh well. I've got another hour before I have to pick up Sam, so I think I'll go have a wander around the Emily Carr house. I'll report on that in my next post!

How to meet your neighbours: lose your cat

Apologies to all my faithful readers for leaving you hanging for the past 10 days. We have been keeping busy, but my main excuse for not writing is that Telus has not been providing the service I signed up for (I signed up on the day of my last post and my most recent update from them suggested that we'll be connected on Thursday. Keep your fingers crossed.)

To pick up where I left off, our movers arrived on Friday morning, and I swiftly got the kids out of the way - we spent the morning at the park, exploring Miniature World (an impressive while diminutive experience), having lunch at daidoco - a wonderful Japanese-style deli that the mum in the park had recommended, and finally going for ice cream at Roger's (Lily is missing pamplemousse sorbet from Bilboquet). We headed home to find the house full of boxes and the movers still at it. Things became a little dramatic when one of the movers got knocked in the head with our ladder as he was getting something else out of the truck. The gash was significant, so Dylan took him off to the Royal Jubilee Hospital where he eventually got stapled back together. (He made it back in time for pizza at the end of the day, and seemed unperturbed by the injury). On the bright side, D. now knows the way to the closest emergency room.

At some point during this chaos Fern wandered off. (Cat has not been renamed for internet safety). I noticed that he was missing, and after a couple of hours looking around I made up some posters and stuck them up on posts up and down the street. We carried on unpacking and organizing, but were all missing Fern when we finally got to bed that night. I couldn't quite believe that we had driven across the country mainly to save him the potential turmoil of a flight in the baggage compartment and now, one week after arriving, he was gone. Saturday we carried on unpacking, and I took the girls to the library in the afternoon as Sam had a much-needed nap. Just as our new neighbours appeared with a chicken and pasta casserole for our dinner (with salad, and brownies for dessert!) another neighbour rang asking after Fern. When I answered that we hadn't had any news, he reported that he'd seen him the previous afternoon two blocks up. Fern appeared to be dragging his hind legs and he and another passerby rang the doorbell of someone's house to see if they could call the SPCA. To make a long story somewhat shorter, we finally tracked Fern down at the Elk Bay Animal Hospital, and after Dylan met with the vet and saw the x-ray, agreed to have his broken leg operated on. Three days later, Fern came home and now spends most of his time in a fenced-off corner of our bedroom (he isn't allowed to jump while he heals). He seems to be feeling better, and is now putting a bit of weight on his lame leg, seems to be a little fed up with being limited to one corner of the house, and howls if we don't go visiting him often enough. The whole cat fiasco ended well, and while Fern's definitely used up one more of his lives, we have at least met more of our neighbours than we otherwise would have!

The big highlight of the week was a visit from Vancouver cousins Amalia and George (with parents). They were returning from their holiday spent on Hornby Island and in Ucluelet. They arrived on Tuesday evening and I made our first proper dinner in the new kitchen: roast wild pacific salmon (renamed by my mother as the Oxymoron fish), roast Vancouver Island Russet potatoes, local green beans and salad greens. Very 100-mile diet-ish, except for the champagne that our realtor had kindly left in our fridge and we were finally in the mood for opening. Wednesday we went to the wonderful Bug Zoo together, where Amalia kissed a cockroach and George wore a giant African millipede as a bracelet. I declined Alexandra's begging for me to hold a scorpion. My only previous contact with a scorpion was in a hotel room in Mexico, where my friend and I agreed that I would be the one to kill it, but I would use her sandal. I said my quota for touching exotic creatures had been met with the boa constrictor at Lily's birthday, but that I would be happy to come back with her on her 19th birthday (the age at which you are allowed to touch the tarantula and scorpion). We then went for lunch at Red Fish Blue Fish, a gourmet fish and chips stand on a pier near where the sea planes take off from (good entertainment). We saw the cousins off on Thursday morning, after they had presented us with a gorgeous housewarming bouquet (still going strong!), and the rest of the week has been spent filling out forms for health cards, making a daily call to Telus to remind them we exist, enjoying the classic boat show in the Inner Harbour and hanging out at South Park (my replacement Somerville Park). Now we are getting ready for the start of the school year and I have a synopsis to write for the end of the week, so back to the grindstone. I've gone on too long, so I'll sign off wishing everyone a good start to September, whether it's back to work or back to school, I'm thinking of you all. Happy Labour Day!

New Empty House

I've been unable to write for the past couple of days as I've been wallowing in homesickness, but after a chat with a friendly neighbourhood mum in the park and the news that the movers are coming tomorrow I'm having an easier time embracing all this change. I think I was really in a strange sort of denial about how enormous/permanent this move is (at my low points I could be heard muttering to myself "why didn't I listen to the children?") and the reality has now hit me in full force. Everyone else misses home as well, but it seems like their sadness dissipated just as mine started. I've been keeping cheerful in front of the kids, minding the advice of a friend who went through a similar move and told me "the mother sets the tone". Most of the time I still think it is a good move, but I do miss everyone quite desperately.

The house itself is lovely. In the past week Dylan has painted his workshop and Sam's room, and is almost finished filling in the broken bricks in the pathway with cement. Yesterday we went to the second most wonderful hardware store in the world: Capital Iron, on the recommendation of our Montreal neighbour who was in Vic visiting family and came by to see how we were doing. Capital Iron is a mecca and I told Dylan he should see about getting a job there (not much enthusiasm on his part). I got a new Paderno kettle on sale (cobalt blue to match my KitchenAid appliances) since neither of us could remember taking ours off the stove and packing it. We also got a hummingbird feeder since we had seen a hummingbird out the back earlier - however, it doesn't seem to have found our feeder yet.

We've explored the city in every direction from our house. Walking 3 blocks east on Toronto Ave. we hit the James Bay Square, home to our new (inaccurately named) 'Thrifty' grocery store. 'Exorbitant' would be a more suitable name, but then that wouldn't draw many shoppers. Dylan says "it's only the stuff that comes from off-island that is expensive". Hmm. I'm going to check out the markets this weekend. The James Bay Square is also home to the James Bay Coffee co. where either Dylan or I go each morning for my latté (I told him we're unpacking the coffee maker first tomorrow). If we leave our house and walk straight down to the end of our street we hit a lovely little pond where there is always an assortment of gentlemen sailing their model schooners. Sam has plans to join them and tried to talk me into buying him a very sophisticated one at Capital Iron, but I'm looking for something a little more basic for him to capsize. Behind the pond runs a little path down to a rocky beach where we can watch the real things go by, as well as fishing boats and barges. The path is lined with almost-ripe wild blackberry canes so we're going back in a few days to see if there are any for us to pick. Two blocks north on our street leads us to the Royal BC museum, (where we are now members), and the Inner Harbour where we enjoyed the Dragon Boat Races last weekend. Two blocks east leads us to Beacon Hill Park (or Bacon Hill as the kids call it). We've done some proper touristy things to pass the time this week, including a harbour-side carriage ride with a guide who told us all the scandal surrounding Sir Frances Rattenbury, the architect who designed the parliament buildings, the Empress and many others as well. Alexandra was riveted.
Now we will have to buckle down and unpack and save the rest of the sightseeing for when visitors come (please come!), but I think I speak for all of us when I say that we are ready to sleep in our beds again.