Celebration

Let us celebrate the occasion with wine and sweet words. ~ Plautus

A few weeks back, I was suddenly presented with the opportunity to take a quick trip to and from my sister, Andrea's town of Port Dover, Ontario for the combined occasion of her 65th birthday, and my brother in law Bill's retirement.
My son, Alex and I were there and back within twenty-four hours for the intimate gathering and our time was filled with family, friends, food and fun. My lovely nieces, Jaime and Stephanie threw this joint part for their parents at the beautiful, old farmhouse where Steph and her partner, Jordan live. They also accommodated six of us with a place to sleep after the party.

I'm not including any people pics - just images of things which made my camera go click!


Along with lots of other goodies, these scrumptious celebration cupcakes were a huge hit.


 



A mini replica of the race car Bill and friends owned, back in the day.






My niece's home borders on a big old cornfield which spent much of the afternoon and evening illuminated by the sun.






What farm doesn't have a wheelbarrow parked on it, somewhere?






Colourful clouds gathered as the sun began its descent in the sky.






Before long, only a small strip of vibrant gold remained on the terrain.






Which was when the moon made its presence known.






That was also when the mosquitoes dictated that we take the party inside to toast the celebrating couple with champagne.

In the morning, Andrea and Bill kindly treated the family to a yummy breakfast out. As we arrived on the patio, a couple who had been enjoying their breakfast made a hasty exit. The waitress told us that the man was Sons of Anarchy actor Kim Coates who was in town for a charity promotion in support of Big Brothers - Big Sisters. None of us had ever watched the show, so he went unrecognized by our group. I think he saw my camera and feared getting caught up in an intrusive photo request. Little did he know that whether we recognized them or not, they would have easily finished off their breakfast uninterrupted.


After breakfast, Alex and I left for the drive back to Peterborough. Glancing out the passenger window as we crossed this bridge, I happened to see a boat doing circles in the water.





And this famous landmark greeted us as we drove along the Gardener Expressway in Toronto.






A closer, more tilted perspective of the C.N. Tower, complete with dashboard reflection.







And back home again, I happened to catch my beautiful little Zephyr's reflection in this small mirror. He was sitting to my right on my desk, when a glance to my left revealed his perfectly framed sweet face. I had to snap two shots and play with them a bit in Photoshop because there was no way I could get his face into focus along with the rest of the image.

And that ends our whirlwind trip into Port Dover. Thanks for your wonderful party hosting, Jaime and Stephanie, and your lodging hospitality, Steph and Jordan. And thanks for brekkie, Andi and Bill. Happy Birthday, my beautiful sister. And Happy Retirement, Bill.

Sweetness

My older son, Jeffrey is home for the holidays. He flew in from Cold Lake, Alberta on the 11th and will be here until a few days after New Year's. I'm a happy mom with both of my boys around.

Christmas Eve was spent with Frank's beautiful family. My sons drove out to be with us at Frank's sister's home. It was a lovely evening and the first time my younger son, Alex got together with any of Frank's relatives. Jeffrey had met Frank's sister and his oldest son once before when we were on a raccoon run! Thank you, Theresa and Evan for including my boys and me.

On Christmas Day, we had dinner with cousins closer to home. Amanda and Collin belong to my sons' dad, Don's side of the family, and they graciously include me every year despite Don and I having gone our separate (but friendly) ways years ago. Don and his girlfriend, Linda stopped by my place for a hurried gift exchange with our sons before heading out to the family dinner.

Patience is bitter, but it bears sweet fruit. ~ Turkish Proverb

The table was decorated in that festive way that our hosts do so well. Many of you commented on how lovely the Christmas tree was in the previous post. The first tree belongs to Frank and was decorated by his sons, this year. The tree at the end of the post belonged to Collin and Amanda a couple of years back.

Gratitude is the sweetest thing in a seeker's life- in all human life. If there is gratitude in your heart, then there will be tremendous sweetness in your eyes. ~ Sri Chinmoy

This is my son, Jeffrey. Since the Air Force got a hold of him, I just don't see him enough. I'm very grateful for the time I have with him this holiday season.

When you came my way. You brightened every day. With your sweet smile. ~ Sade

My boy, Alex is a tough (not really) metal rocker when he's not busy setting up venues for various performances. But when he needs to, he can clean up pretty well.

It's difficult to tell my two guys apart, isn't it? Ha!

The love of learning, the sequestered nooks, And all the sweet serenity of books (or iPhones).
~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

This is Elliot, aged nine and the oldest of three kidlets. He spent much of the evening engrossed in a game on Alex's phone.

Nothing but sweetness can remain when hearts are full of their own sweetness. ~ William Butler Yeats

The middle child is six-year-old Lily, aka Hello Kitty. She's every bit as sweet and bright as that smile reveals.

Sometimes I'm so sweet even I can't stand it. ~ Julie Andrews

This little two-year-old angel is Maeve. One only needs to watch her for a couple of moments to know that there's a lot going on behind those darling eyes.

Let us celebrate the occasion with wine and sweet words. ~ Plautus

The wine was flowing before, during and after the meal.

Chocolate is not cheating! After a salty meal, you need a little bit of sweet. This is living, not cheating. 
 ~ Ali Landry

Dinner was delicious as it always is, and if there was an ounce of room left in our bellies, it was filled with several kinds of amazing desserts.

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter. ~ John Keats

After dinner, my son played our host's guitar and I couldn't help but notice the tree lights reflecting in its shiny surface.

It was a wonderful evening with music and dance (Highland dancing by Lily and a fine imitation by baby Maeve), laughter and warmth. It sure is nice to be with little ones during the holidays. And especially nice to be with family - my sons - and my two extended families through Frank and Don.

Sweet, indeed.

I wish all my dear blogging friends a wonderful, safe and Happy New Year!

Newer Every Day

"We turn not older with years, but newer every day." ~ Emily Dickinson

This beautiful face belongs to my sons' Great Aunt Lois. She's their father's late mother's sister. The faraway look in her eye reflects the bewildered pleasure she felt at having received a special phone call just moments earlier.

This past Sunday was a special occasion - Aunt Lois' 95th birthday. Go on, you can say it. She looks much younger than that. She's young at heart, mind and spirit too.

In earlier years, Lois was a public health nurse right here in Mississauga, and among her duties were postnatal visits to mothers and their babies in the home. One such visit was to a woman just five years her junior, a new mother named Hazel McCallion who has since held the title of Mayor of Mississauga for the last 32 years.

Well, I'm sure you've guessed by now that it was Mayor Hazel on the other end of that phone, calling to congratulate her on her birthday. As it turned out, it was supposed to be an in-person visit, arranged by Lois' granddaughter Amanda and grandson-in-law Colin who were hosting the party. Hazel was planning to attend but was detained at an earlier commitment and opted to call and arrange an afternoon tea at Lois' retirement home sometime this week instead.

Aunt Lois was delightfully stunned by the incident. I'm not sure if the mayor actually remembers Lois - it's not like they've ever been in touch since they met over 50 years ago, but Hazel was touched by Amanda and Colin's desire to do something memorable for Aunt Lois and excitedly agreed to meet with her. It's unfortunate that she wasn't able to make it to the party as it would have been a wonderful surprise, but it's nice to know that she cared to make the phone call and plan an an afternoon tea with her.

When the brief phone call was over, Aunt Lois was so pleased, and she expressed how much she was looking forward to meeting with the mayor. What I found to be particularly touching was how Aunt Lois immediately thought about her late husband. "Reg would have just loved this."

The party was a fine celebration as most birthdays are.

There were gifts.

Beautiful flowers.

Delicious cake.

And flowers on the cake.

And there was lots of love. This is Aunt Lois with her youngest great granddaughter, Maeve. Aren't they a beautiful pair?

Thanks for joining the party.

The mystery image in yesterday's post was of Venetian blinds seen at a restaurant. All comments have now been posted so you can see how everyone did. The full image appears below. All of you who guessed had clever answers but the correct ones were give by Glo, Zuzana, June, Sandra, Daryl, Fragrant Liar, Steve (Out on the Prairie), Kat, Reb and Cricket.

A Time for Family

"In every conceivable manner, the family is link to our past, bridge to our future."
~ Alex Haley

This is reposted from last December, shortly after I met Frank's sons for the first time. The photos are from a snowy day in January - much like yesterday.


When it comes to having great families, I'm one of the lucky ones.

I have two healthy, intelligent and talented sons, both of whom are home for this holiday season. Their Dad and I separated several years ago, but remain good friends, and partners in parenting our boys. There isn't conflict or bitterness between us, so our respective extended families have always remained warm and welcoming to both of us for important events and occasions. Don is always invited along to my family's birthdays, pool parties and Hanukkah. And invitations to Thanksgiving, Christmas and his family birthdays have always been open for me. They're not just polite gestures either. Our families sincerely want the other to join in the festivities and remain a part of the circle.

Initially, we might have decided to stay friends because of the kids. Our boys were still in elementary school at the time, and if we couldn't give them a family that was intact, they were at least entitled to parents who were united in fulfilling what was in their best interest. It didn't take long for us to realize that it wasn't only for our sons' benefit, but also for our own, that we were able to hold onto the friendship and respect which weaves its way through our entire relationship. Whatever the glue, I value the connection we will continue to share when both of our kids are fully grown.

My own remaining family consists of my sister and her crew, two aunts and a collection of cousins and their own offspring and grandchildren. Between the first cousins on my Dad's side, our children range in age from mid-teens to mid-forties. Most of us, who have migrated from Montreal to parts of Ontario, get together a few times a year at one home or another. At our Hanukkah party this year, my cousin Frances marveled at how everyone who was not hindered by geographical distance, made a point of being there. At an age when most kids prefer to be doing almost anything else with their friends, ours all opted to be at a family party. That warms the heart.

Our babies have mostly grown up and have begun the process which tells us that we have been successful as parents. They have become independent. It's bittersweet, but it's right. No doubt they'll make mistakes that we can't prevent, and reach milestones of which we won't always be a part. Hearts will still be broken - our own along with theirs, but they're growing and learning, and doing exactly what they should be doing. Experiencing life.

It's often difficult for us to take that step back and accept that our influence was mostly in the past - that despite how much we want to say "Choose a safer career" or "You deserve better than him" or "Don't move so far from home", we simply have to trust that the lessons and morals we've instilled in them through their early years are enough to carry them through. Aside from wanting to keep them safe, healthy and happy, the best that we can hope for is that they continue to evolve and grow as individuals. And they will.

Family bridges extend themselves in many ways, through near and distant cousins, in-laws, dear friends, neighbours, online friends and those special individuals who have been given the honourary title of Aunt or Uncle.

Yesterday I received an email from Frank's younger son, whom I had just met for the first time a few days prior. He wanted to know what I thought of him and his brother. After expressing the warmth that I felt for the two of them, he replied with his own impressions of me. Among his many kind words he said "ur already family to me." That sentiment had to be among the best honours that has ever been bestowed upon me, and for many reasons, it means the world to me.

At this time of year when families get together, I hope you have a happy and safe holiday season, and I wish you the joy of being with the people you love. The people who call themselves Family.

Happy Kwanzachristmakah!

A glance down between the snow-covered branches allows a small peek at the lake below. (please click to enlarge)

Upon a hill, looking down at the partiely-frozen lake, you can see where the ice ends abruptly. (please click to enlarge)






There are two willows at opposite ends of the lake. This is the younger one and its willowy branches are still sporting fall colours. (please click to enlarge)







A male cardinal out-brightens a comparatively drab sparrow in front of, and to the left of him. (please click to enlarge)







A park bench waits for someone to clear off the snow and sit for a bit. It wasn't me. (please click to enlarge)







Frosty branches bear the weight of the fluffy snow. (please click to enlarge)







Down the path and headed for home. (please click to enlarge)

Family Day

Today was Ontario's first ever statutory holiday in the month of February. Following Alberta's lead, we joined them and Saskatchewan in celebrating our first Family Day.

Though mostly by chance, rather than design, it turned out that much of our local family did get together for lunch at the half-way point between those of us who live farthest apart. My son Jeffrey and I made the half-hour drive to meet up with my sister, her daughter, three of our first cousins and one of their sons. All eight of us gathered at a restaurant to share a warm meal, endless chatter, hugs, laughter, a few tears of frustration, tales of kidlet-induced angst and the comfort of each others company. It was a lovely afternoon spent with people I have known and loved all of my life. What better way could there be to spend our first Family Day?

Thanks, Barb for arranging it. I hope this was the first of an annual tradition.

One Branch of the Family Tree

I don't know how someone can live beyond the half-century mark and have a simple realization strike for the very first time, but it recently occurred to me that my aunts from both sides of my family have all been blood relatives. I've never really had an aunt that married into the family.

There's no real significance to that sudden insight, except that it got me thinking about my maternal family. I wish I could remember more about my mother's siblings than I do, but what I do recall, evokes a rush of nostalgic warmth.

My mother had one brother, Bill and only during Mom's later years did I learn that he had been married briefly - the reason for such brevity was never made known to me. Neither was this would-be aunt.

Uncle Bill made his home in Toronto, and we lived in Montreal, so our paths didn't cross frequently. I do remember him as a large man with a booming voice. He spoke quickly and abruptly, with a touch of drama in his voice, but always with kindness. When he would visit, he'd always bring identical gifts for my sister and me. I can remember a set of four ball point pens which were fashioned to look like fountain pens. They came with a holder, and they each had different coloured inks - blue, red, green and black (which wrote more like purple). I treasured those pens and displayed them in my room long after the ink dried up.

Uncle Bill died in 1971, from lung cancer, as his father did 25 years earlier. It's no wonder my mother never so much as touched a cigarette to her lips, and I can only imagine how dismayed she felt when I began smoking in my teens (though I quit in my twenties). My younger son Alex's middle name is William, named after my dear Uncle Bill.

Auntie Sybil was Mom's oldest sister and she too lived in Toronto. She was an outspoken, but warm woman whom I recall was plagued with allergies. She reacted violently to gluten and perfumes among many other irritants, but that never stopped her from sampling a belt or two of something potent fortifying. Mom never drank, so it was amusing to me to witness her sister's antics while enjoying a drink. I suppose it helped her to relax and allowed her to loosen both her collar and her lips. I can remember watching her dance across our kitchen, while Mom shot her some warning looks to guard her mouth in front of us kids. This is not to suggest that she indulged frequently. Though I was young, I'm quite certain that she only drank on special occasions, and her visits to see us were among them.

She always made a point of spending time with me (which might also explain the drinks). She'd tirelessly listen to my latest, favourite song over and over again, and agree that it was the best sound ever. She was a smart, comical woman and when I remember her with my mind's eye, I can envision her grin and a set of eyes that revealed her wonderful sense of humour. She succumbed to cancer in 1980's.

Everyone has a favourite aunt, and on my mother's side, Auntie Pearl was mine. She was a sweet, soft-spoken, kind lady. Somewhat on the plump side, her round face revealed a warm, loving smile.

She was my Montreal aunt, and from the time I was very young, I loved being in her company. We spent most of my early childhood summers at a cottage, at Ste. Agathe, in the Laurentian mountains north of the city. Occasionally Auntie Pearl and her family rented a nearby cottage for at least part of the season. Sometimes our families would merge for a day drive ("are we there yet?"), or we'd get together in the evening to play a game called OKO. It was played with cards, which somehow combined poker and bingo.

Other times, it would be just Auntie Pearl and me, and we'd have long talks about TV shows while we brightened the pages of a colouring book with her Crayolas, and munched on fruit-flavoured marshmallows. She always made sure that she had a package of each for special occasions, such as my visits.

In truth, those might have been the only few times we spent together during the summers up north, but I remember them like they were commonplace. I dearly cherish the memories of this tender-hearted woman. Breast cancer took her life in 1968, a few years before her only grandchild (who now has children of her own ) was born - a great loss for both of them.

A few cousins remain, scattered between Montreal and Toronto. I exchange occasional emails and phone calls with one cousin (Pearl's only child), but time has a way of passing quickly and I can't remember the last time we did in fact catch up.

I think I'll go remedy that right now.

Below are a few tree-related photos that I've taken recently. Just like family, trees take root, mature, give new life, nurture, offer shelter and provide perspective. And they endure.

There are some beautiful old cedars that reside near Frank's home. This one provides a place to rest and to meditate the surrounding beauty.



This tree appears to me to have a bit of a theatrical flair. Can you see its green eye-shadow?



These trees seem to grow toward, and reach out to one another - like family.



Fresh-falling snow fluffs up the stark, empty branches of the plum tree in my back yard.



In the park near my home, a wary squirrel climbs to safety and watches me from a snow-covered branch.



This oak leaf clung heroically to its branch until just after the snowfall.



A miniature icicle forms from the roughly-scarred bark of a tree.



Nearby, an icy branch is lodged in the frozen lake.

Family Bridges

"In every conceivable manner, the family is link to our past, bridge to our future."
~ Alex Haley

When it comes to having great families, I'm one of the lucky ones.

I have two healthy, intelligent and talented sons, both of whom are home for this holiday season. Their Dad and I separated several years ago, but remain good friends, and partners in parenting our boys. There isn't conflict or bitterness between us, so our respective extended families have always remained warm and welcoming to both of us for important events and occasions. Don is always invited along to my family's birthdays, pool parties and Hanukkah. And invitations to Thanksgiving, Christmas and his family birthdays have always been open for me. They're not just polite gestures either. Our families sincerely want the other to join in the festivities and remain a part of the circle.

Initially, we might have decided to stay friends because of the kids. Our boys were still in elementary school at the time, and if we couldn't give them a family that was intact, they were at least entitled to parents who were united in fulfilling what was in their best interest. It didn't take long for us to realize that it wasn't only for our sons' benefit, but also for our own, that we were able to hold onto the friendship and respect which weaves its way through our entire relationship. Whatever the glue, I value the connection we will continue to share when both of our kids are fully grown.

My own remaining family consists of my sister and her crew, two aunts and a collection of cousins and their own offspring and grandchildren. Between the first cousins on my Dad's side, our children range in age from mid-teens to mid-forties. Most of us, who have migrated from Montreal to parts of Ontario, get together a few times a year at one home or another. At our Hanukkah party this year, my cousin Frances marveled at how everyone who was not hindered by geographical distance, made a point of being there. At an age when most kids prefer to be doing almost anything else with their friends, ours all opted to be at a family party. That warms the heart.

Our babies have mostly grown up and have begun the process which tells us that we have been successful as parents. They have become independent. It's bittersweet, but it's right. No doubt they'll make mistakes that we can't prevent, and reach milestones of which we won't always be a part. Hearts will still be broken - our own along with theirs, but they're growing and learning, and doing exactly what they should be doing. Experiencing life.

It's often difficult for us to take that step back and accept that our influence was mostly in the past - that despite how much we want to say "Choose a safer career" or "You deserve better than him" or "Don't move so far from home", we simply have to trust that the lessons and morals we've instilled in them through their early years are enough to carry them through. Aside from wanting to keep them safe, healthy and happy, the best that we can hope for is that they continue to evolve and grow as individuals. And they will.

Family bridges extend themselves in many ways, through near and distant cousins, in-laws, dear friends, neighbours, online friends and those special individuals who have been given the honourary title of Aunt or Uncle.

Yesterday I received an email from Frank's younger son, whom I had just met for the first time a few days prior. He wanted to know what I thought of him and his brother. After expressing the warmth that I felt for the two of them, he replied with his own impressions of me. Among his many kind words he said "ur already family to me." That sentiment had to be among the best honours that has ever been bestowed upon me, and for many reasons, it means the world to me.

At this time of year when families get together, I hope you have a happy and safe holiday season, and I wish you the joy of being with the people you love. The people who call themselves Family.


Here are some photos that I took on my way to and around Bowmanville last week.

The day became snowy by mid-afternoon, but it started off with a fiery sun which painted the sky from behind the clouds. This was the view as seen from my desk chair at home.



On my way to Bowmanville, I took this shot through the window of the train, when we stopped briefly at a station along the way.



We saw many lovely sights when we took Benny for his daily walks among the cedars. The weathered trunk of this old tree attracted us with its expressive face. What does Benny see?



Snow-covered burrs cling to the last light of dusk.



Early the next morning...



Along the water's edge, trees reach out to greet each other from opposite sides of the creek.



This tree reminds me of an elephant, with the left-hand branch as his upraised trunk.



The snow began to fall lightly as we edged our way along the creek.



If you follow this bridge, it will lead you right into a Claude Monet painting...




...or perhaps downtown Bowmanville.




On our way back, I glanced up to find this hawk perched above my head.




An unusual splash of colour caught my eye as we neared the road. A lost helmet perches on a tree stump, waiting to be claimed.

I'll post more photos from my visit in a few days.