fall fling

jumping with joy

thanksgiving holiday weekend up north...

the days were so beautiful, the nights so fresh,

only the yellowing aspens and amazed grown-ups whispered "october".

the sun, water, dogs and children still believed in august.

bluteau and holt

about a month and 1/2 ago, my beloved suggested that we host a house concert in october:

"this fellow, michael holt, is doing an around the world house-concert tour...whaddaya think?"

at the time, october seemed infinitely far away, so i agreed.
hey...what the???...it's october!
and last weekend was the house-concert.

the lovely andre bluteau opened the show, 

and spellbound the crowd with earthy lyrics and gritty vocals.  

(hit his link and listen to 'morning mouth' for a taste.)

after an intermission of snacks, mulled wine and lively chatter, michael 

took over, and had the joint jumpin' in no time!

there was a great deal of inspired dancing,

even the stairwell was employed for it's acoustic and entertainment properties.
~
although this household is quite accustomed to impromptu musical interludes
and guitars cases in the hallway, the event made for an unusual
and especially lively sunday afternoon!
and i think mr. holt is still booking living-rooms near you...



esther's menagerie

 dress-up time is a family favourite.

usually i am the one doing the facepainting, but this time,the girl decided 

to wield the face eye-liner pencil herself.

she fashioned a ferocious tiger, and fierce kitty-cat...

great job, girl!

edgar and b., in case the disguise is too convincing...

(very special thank-you to our patient and trusting guest!)

good sport

edgar has been enjoying speech therapy at CHEO with his "big friend" sarah...

he is a gregarious little guy, and loves to joke around and share his ideas, but it has been tricky, even for me, to understand his point sometimes. 

we went outside to play a few weeks ago, and settled on a game of baseball.

i grabbed the ball, and he reached for the bat, saying "here, mom, i got the wackit!"
he tends to 'elmer fudd' his R sound, therfore,

i thought he must be confusing the game with tennis, and gently corrected him:
~

"sweetheart, it's called a bat."

"no, it a wakit."

"honey it is a bat...a baseball bat...not a tennis racket."

to which he replied, "no, mom, it is a WAKIT!"

as he swung the thing in a powerful arc around his body...
~

it was clear to me then that he really meant a whack-it.