phewf!

{super cute even with a few bumps and bruises}

See that face? Don't let if fool you, she is (in the words of Buck 65 via Mark Harris) full of beans and big ideas.

Tonight as Violet said her prayers she said something that stopped me in my tracks. She said, "I am thankful that my skin is not brown."

Did that just happen?

Prayer over Violet. Mummy needs to make sure that God knows you didn't mean that (as if, right?1?). Immediately, I sprung into a diatribe about racial equality. I used words that I am not sure I understood and I am positive Violet did not. This lasted at least five minutes before I took a breath.

I can't believe she just said that, I thought to myself. I knew we should have spent more time at the pool.

Violet looked at me and said, "Mum, I'd just rather have purple skin, I don't like brown."

She doesn't like brown. True. Nor does she like black, green, dark blue or pretty much any color other than fuchsia. Oh, so this was a comment about colors of the rainbow, not race. Gotcha.

Violet gave me a, "you are crazy lady" look and turned over.

I think I am crazy. Time for bed!

xo

Em

reading aloud

{books I can't wait to read to Violet}

Violet had a mid-week sleepover with her Auntie Lou last night, as a result the morning felt like an eternity rather than a blur. I drank my coffee while it was hot. Wonders never cease. With all my spare time I came across an interesting article while I ate my breakfast. It was about reading aloud.

My dad used to read to my siblings and I when we were growing up. We read Huckleberry Finn, Swallows and Amazons, Stuart Little, Anne of Green Gables, The Secret Garden, The Hobbit and most of the Narnia series. We even had Narnia nicknames -- dorkiest family ever! After we finished each book my mum would organize a little theme party. She made a raft in our living room and we drank ginger beer on it after Huck Finn. We went on a walk in the woods wearing hooded towel suits after The Hobbit. My mum even made Raspberry cordial (no alcohol) when we finished Anne of Green Gables. So fun. Between the ages of 13-20 I was mortified that these events took place, but now I think it is awesome. Impressive parental effort no?

Anyway, the article I read this morning laments the lost art of reading aloud between adults, not adults to children. Parents have to read to their kids, or so the article states. 

I love the idea of being read to. I think it is romantic and harkens back to a simpler time, like before watching movies on a laptop in bed was considered romantic (because that is romantic right?). I bounced the idea off my friends at work and they were less enthused than I was. I can only imagine Jeff's response. Maybe if I offered to read Sports Illustrated...

So what do you think? Romantic or cheeseballs?

xo

Em

giving thanks

{lots of be thankful for}

 We decided to host Thanksgiving dinner at our place this summer when we were in PEI. Eager to get my grandparents over to the mainland we made them promise they would eat turkey at our place this year. They obliged us and so we prepared to host dinner for eight at our table for four.

Jeff was eager to brine our turkey and so we soaked our 14lb bird in salted and sugared water for over 12 hours. I was less enthused. The thought of poultry festering in a plastic vessel overnight wasn't doing it for me this year. I've brined a turkey before with my friend Jayme in Calgary. At the time we didn't have a cooler so we filled the crisper in her fridge with salt water! Now, that is commitment to turkey!

Jeff took Violet to church and then to the pool so I could prep and cook sans interruption. When I pulled the turkey out of the cooler it had an oddly human feel. The skin had become more transparent than usual and I could see the poor bird's muscles (that is what we eat right? muscles? sick.) I rinsed him off in the sink in much the same way I used to rinse Violet off at the cottage. It felt really weird. Wrong and weird, but I love turkey dinner so I persevered.

As I bathed our dinner the most disgusting thing happened: I got a feather splinter. Yes, a feather splinter. I love that we got our turkey at the market, but if it means seeing remnants of feathers I'm not sure I can stomach that much closeness with nature. If I get avian flu you will all know why.

The dinner went off without a hitch. I manged to fit all the food on each plate and all the people at the table (except for Violet who was relegated to her pink desk in the corner, which she loved). I thought the turkey was a teeny bit salty, but no one else agreed (it is possible they are just scared of me). Nanny made two pies (one for Jeff and one for everyone else -- for real), a perfect ending to a great meal.

I really have to work on taking pictures while I cook. I pride myself of being a good multitasker, but I can never seem to capture every step of the process. I took a few pictures of the bread I baked, one or two shots when everyone sat down to eat, but once my turkey coma began to set in I was out of commission as a photographer!

Nonetheless, here are a few pictures from our weekend, including a magical father-daughter-granddaughter hike at Hemlock Ravine. We have a history of such hikes which started when Vi was still in a baby bijorn. This year she walked almost the whole hour. She complained, but she did it!

xo

{Ellen's bread works everytime}

{even as rolls}

sage girl

{why yes that is candy corn on my sweater}

How was your Thanksgiving?

Ours was great, nothing beats a long weekend, but now I have a nasty head cold. I have loads of pictures to share with you but this is all I could muster in an Advil Cold and Sinus induced fog.

One thing I realized this weekend, although it has been a long time coming, is that Violet really is a big girl. She is in no way, shape or form a baby and she knows it.

I'm not sure how early you got up yesterday, but since it was a holiday I'll assume you missed the early morning rainstorm. It poured. When Violet and I arrived at the playground a few hours later the swings were still damp. No matter, Vi used her sweater to mop up the water and had a grand old time swinging away. After a few minutes a little boy, who was maybe two years old, came and sat in the swing next to Violet. It was so cute hearing her talk to him. She told him not to go too high and she called him silly when he said he saw a plane (she argued it was a seagull -- they were looking at two different things). She knew she was older than this little boy and I am pretty sure she thought she was smarter. She obviously loved it. She is always the littlest at our house, so she delighted in her new role.

When the little boy got off the swing he said to his mum, "my bum is wet."

Violet looked at him, took a deep breath and nodded, "it's a wet world", she said.

The two kids paused. The little boy looked at Violet for half a second, almost like he was acknowledging, "that was deep". Then he ran off and sat in a puddle.

Violet kept swinging, thrilled with her little-but-getting-bigger philosopher self.

It is a wet world? That might be my favourite Violetism yet! 

xo

Em

{we live next to one of the only construction sites on the peninsula -- lucky us...}

{she finds herself really funny}

summer fare?

{salmon burger with Lou's guacamole}

I am up to my eye balls in grading, but I want to ask you a quick question: are burgers summer fare? Jeff and I have differing opinions on the subject.

I tend to associate burgers with summer -- probably the BBQ connection. He thinks they can, nay should, be eaten year round.

Despite my embrace of all things fall (namely making everything with pumpkin), we have had burgers twice this week (turkey on Monday, salmon tonight). Even though both were delicious (if I do say so myself) it feels wrong. We should be eating butternut squash and hearty soups this time of year not eating raw veggies and meat in a bun.

I may have tested Jeff's love for all things burger tonight. I think what he means by "I love burgers" is "I love meat." He seemed unimpressed I had ground up our beautiful salmon fillets into fish burgers.

Maybe he'll forgive me by next year, when it is appropriate to start eating burgers again.

xo

em

ps - Brooklyn Burgers are excluded from the opinions expressed above.

the thankful tree

{what I am thankful for}

Violet came home with the cutest craft today. With the help of a very special teacher she had made a thankful tree. Her little handprints hung from a branch like leaves. On each handprint Susie had written something Violet was thankful for.

I immediately scanned for my name and then assessed the positioning of my leaf (I wish I was kidding).

The craft reminded me of Thanksgiving when I was a teenager. We always went to the South Shore with my mum's best friend's family. Every year we froze, but I have lots of good memories now that enough time has passed for me to forget my numb toes and the hours I spent in a small car with cranky adolescent siblings. (I can say that because I admit I was the crankiest sibling.)

Every year my mum's friend's dad asked us the same question, "what are you thankful for?" Personally I preferred his less esoteric questions (e.g., name your three favourite pies), but it was a nice reminder to count your blessings.

I have lots to be thankful for, but my health and the health of my family feel particularly precious this year.

When Violet was showing off her art to her Auntie Lou she looked at the tree and said, without a hint of sarcasm, "I really should have put my own name up there."

And I was worried about her confidence.

xo

Em

girlfriends

{besties}

 

Jeff is studying for the CFA which means his evenings and weekends are full of practice problems and tonnes and tonnes of reading (poor dear). While I miss my husband and literally dream about how much time we will have once all this studying is behind him, in his absence I took the opportunity to enjoy some serious girl time this past weekend.

Husbands are great, but you really can't beat a good girlfriend.

I forgot how much I missed hanging out with girls. Growing up I was never one of those girls who hung out with boys. Don't get me wrong I had boyfriends, but they were boyfriends (plug your ears Jeff ) we kissed and that just ruins a friendship. Outside romantic relationships I think I prefer the company of women. Can I even say that?! I'm pretty sure only women read my blog (all blogs?) so I am probably in safe company. I don't think of myself as a really girly girl, but I am a girl's girl (is that even an expression. You heard it here first.)

This weekend I was reminded how insular our lives can become and how important it is to carve out time to nurture relationships outside our immediate families. I know that probably sounds completely exhausting to an already exhausted segment of the population, but I've personally found it so worth it. A day hanging out just mums & babes, an early morning run with a mentor and a dinner with a work-friend turned friend-friend each reminded me how I need to make time to hang out with my ladyfriends. I felt a little like my old pre-mum/wife self.

If you follow my blog (bless your heart) then you know how much I love my little family. We do almost everything together and I love every minute of it (I don't love every minute, that is a lie, but you know what I mean!) I guess I just forgot how much I also love just being me.

Tomorrow I am meeting another girlfriend for coffee, and then this weekend I have an all women's bookclub to go to and I cannot wait for either.

Since I was born in the 80s and came of age (what a weird expression that is) in the 90s I really want to say something about girl power, but I won't.

xo

Em