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}

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

damsel in distress

 


You know those nights where you come home, get into comfy clothes, eat pizza and you're so tired you could either laugh or cry so you do both at the drop of a hat? If you answered yes, I should introduce you to Violet because that is totally her M.O. on Friday nights.


It was the best of times, it was the worst of times -- within the same minute. I get like this when I am tired too. From the outside looking in, I have to admit it is kind of crazy and a little teeny bit scary.

Being dramatic is obviously exhausting; Violet fell into bed like a damsel in distress. 

Seriously, who sleeps like that (and is not named Aurora)?

I am almost ready to do the same, you?

Happy Friday everyone. Batten down the hatches Haligonians, it is going to be a wet one. 

xo

Em

Ancaster

{Velma, Nancy, Emily & Jules aka aunt, mum, wife and sister}

Jeff's family live in a pretty little town outside Hamilton. It is so lovely there this time of year. The air has cooled off and the leaves are just starting to turn. Ancaster, where Jeff spent part of his childhood, is full of stately brick homes and perfectly manicured lawns. It is the perfect spot for a wedding.

I am biased, but you can't beat a September wedding. You get all the bright light and sunshine of summer with none of the oppressive humidity. We travelled to Ancaster on Friday to go to Jeff's cousin's wedding. I love seeing Jeff around his family. He laughed so hard he cried every day we were there. You know the sort of laughter that only people who have known you since you were little can evoke? That rang through Jeff's parents' house.

Violet was indulged beyond belief. Instead of two (or four) adults doting on her she had at least 6 sometimes 7 loving grown ups at her beckon call. She was hugged, kissed and fed from the moment she woke up until after she went to bed (no eating after bed, just hugs and kisses).

It is so lovely being taken care of for a weekend. Jeff's mum and sister are the type who would never let you see a dirty dish, they wash your towel before you notice it is gone and they slip little presents and cards in your room or suitcase. Dreamy.

When can we go back?!

Here are my favourite pictures from the weekend (Jeff's sister has the same camera and she is more diligent with photography) -- when I said I relaxed I meant it!

xo

Em

{Wes and Precious Jules}

{Em & Jeff}

{pretty cake}

{country wedding}

{Violet laughing so so hard}

{Emily Pond I or Emily Pond Jr}

{Em & Vi - cousinly love}

{another pretty blonde sister! Auntie Ang and her little minions}