Put Out the Fire and Pass me a Pimm's

(Blog in progress.... posted because some people wanted to see some of the pictures that I took.....)


And after that.... perhaps a nice shot of whiskey....

Or maybe a double!

Okay, okay... the weekend wasn't THAT bad, but it feels like one of those suitably absurd movies where the weirdest things happen (mostly comedic) to a person (usually someone who considers their idea of good luck as  being able to tie their shoes without breaking a lace) and then when it's all over they blink their eyes, shake their head, and go back to their "normal" life.

My weekend started mundanely enough.  I had to be at church at 8:30am on Saturday for a prayer meeting regarding the upcoming PCC meeting.  (Okay, I didn't HAVE to be there, but the Saturday before the week of the meeting, we meet to pray for the meeting.  Being the new kid on the block, I figure I could use all the divine intervention I can get to make valuable contributions to discussions.)  My dear friend, Alison snagged me as she drove past the house to get there and my weekend officially began.

I'm actually not sure what happened to Saturday.  I know I came back from church and made breakfast for the troops (who were playing Lego Batman on the Wii).... and I know I made them lunch.... and that Dad went to town and bought birthday presents for the dual birthday party we were going to on Sunday.

Saturday evening came and went.  Kate went to bed.  Eventually, Jeff and I went to bed.

Now, keep in mind that during the evening, one of the neighbours was having a VERY loud party.  Lots of drunkeness and yelling and loud music.  In fact, this seems to be a regular weekend thing these days and I'm hoping that it stops before I get irritated enough to see what can be done about it.

And we live down the street from a pub.  Though it's usually a quiet crowd, every now and then after last call and closing we get a pack of inebriated jackals who walk down the street baying at the moon and yelping at their packmates.

So, when the noisy yelling nudged through my dreams and tried rouse me, I dismissed it as drunken stupidity running wild.

Until Jeff leapt out of bed and looked out the window.

And then he left the room.

"Uh, oh," I thought.  "Has my mild-mannered husband snapped?"

"Oh, my."  His tendancy towards the English understatement was still intact. He dashed back into the room and started jamming his legs into his trousers.

"What ARE you doing?"  Was that a note of irritation creeping into my voice?

"There's a fire," he said matter of factly as he pulled on his shirt.

And now I was out of bed trying to find clothing and wondering if I'd be able to locate Ellie before I dragged Kate outside.  I dashed into the hall to find him looking out the window into the garden of one of the houses whose yard is perpendicular to ours.  The one next to the house of loud parties.

And a strange orange glow in the window.

"His shed is on fire," Jeff said simply.  "They've called the fire brigade."

So, not our house at all.  I exhaled suddenly not realizing that I had been holding my breath.  I was too relieved to be irritated with him and besides that I heard Kate making noise.  I went into her room to find her huddled under the covers.

"Mum, I'm scared," she whimpered with a tremor in her voice.  It's not so long ago that Kate had a bit of a phobia about fire and the house.  I couldn't turn on the oven with her getting anxious.

"Is there something in the oven?" She would interrogate.  "Is it going to burn?  Is the house going to catch fire?"  I had been almost offended by her persistence.  It's not like I ever burned anything THAT badly!  (A bit crispy on occasion, but never charred and smoking!)

If I left the kitchen while the oven was on, she'd fidget.  "Mum, go in the kitchen, please," she'd beg tearfully.

And heaven help me if I didn't get to the microwave immediately after it started beeping.

And now this.

Calmly, I explained to her that the old man next door's shed was on fire and the firemen were coming to put it out.  I soothed and assured her that everything was okay.  "Just stay in bed.  Everything will be fine."

I went back to Jeff and watched in fascination as the fire grew.  The drunks next door had been banging on his door trying to wake the owner up as they watered the shed with their garden hose. "Is he away," Jeff wondered.

"I don't think so," I said as I tried to peer into the transparent roof of his small garage, trying to see if his car was there.  "It's too dark, I can't tell."  When had I seen him last?  It was recently.... but how recently, I couldn't be certain.

I could feel the heat rolling across the yard from the flames.  I knew it probably wasn't the smartest thing to be doing.  Watching out a window at a shed burning.  Not sure of what was inside.  What would happen if it exploded?

"Where are the trucks," I fretted as the flames grew higher.  Should I get our hose out?  Would it reach?

"Here they come,"  Jeff pointed out as the darkness was interrupted by the flash of blue lights.  No sirens.  How considerate!  "Should we get Kate up?  So she can see the firemen in action?"

Well, it's not like she was asleep and she wasn't likely to go to sleep when her room is filled with flashing blue lights and people were yelling instructions about a fire.

"Kate," I said as I opened the door.  "Come out and watch the firemen."  The air was chilly so I wrapped her in her robe and the three of us stood by the window, watching the battle below.

Two hoses were used and at first it seemed to go out rather quickly.... and then it was back!  It seemed rather furious that someone would dare to throw water on it.  What WAS in the shed?  Was my nice elderly neighbour running a secret meth lab in the back yard?

"Mum," Kate squeaked.  "Do you think he has an oven in there?"

I sighed.

"No, Kate, there is no oven."

"Then what started the fire?"

"I don't know, honey (though I have my suspicions) .... but there is no oven.  I promise you that."  She turned back to the activity.

A fireman was busting the back door down.  I suppose to try to find out if the old guy was inside and if he was okay.

In the end, he made an appearance much to my relief.  (Evidently, he's a sound sleeper.)  The fire was put out as the sky was starting to glow with the promise of dawn.  The police arrived to help him to secure his back door.... and the Crawford family all crawled back into bed... the same bed as Kate was too anxious to go it alone in her own.... at least for a few precious hours before having to begin the Sunday activity!

Some pictures of the events.... I'm not very good with the whole night-time picture taking.  (I figured that Phill wouldn't have appreciated a phone call at that hour for advice....)


You can see the fireman working on the door in the background....

Out at last....

And the cold light of day....

(There will be more soon..... I needed to post this one half-finished because Jeff is anxious to see some of the pictures.)

Oops.... She Did It Again....

So, you noticed from the last post that Kate lost one of the most dramatic of the childhood teeth... a top front one.


It's been "happening" for a few months now.  Really!  (Or at least it feels that way!)  She's been telling me that it's "wobbly" for quite some time and we'd have the little obligatory wiggle followed by Mum saying, "No, it's not quite there yet."  (Knowing it still had ages until it would be in any danger of falling out.)

And then... last week.... it started wiggling like it meant it.

I'd look at her and she'd smile at me and the tooth wouldn't be in the same position it was the last time she smiled at me.  It was definitely playing with my mind.

Most mornings this week, I would drop her off thinking, "This is the day."  Wednesday I even took the teacher's assistant aside and dropped a little bug in her ear.  The school day passed without a phone call, so I figured that either it was out and she was fine.... or it was waiting for me.

So, she arrives at WOW! and sure enough the tooth is still there.  Shifting every which way whenever she opened her mouth.  I started wincing when she spoke, sure that I was going to catch a glimpse of it tormenting me.  Since I was heavily involved in the lesson/skit portion of it and Gran wasn't there (she's been starting to come up Wednesdays instead of Thursdays in order to free me up a bit during WOW!) I warned a few of the other staff members to keep an eye out.  Mentioning to one, that knowing the way things work.... it will fall out at the most inconvenient time possible.

It sure tried.  At one point in the middle of the skit, I looked out at all the kids and saw Kate looking panicked with a tissue to her mouth.  When it was finished, I found out it was a false alarm.... but I knew it was showing me who was in control of the situation.

Which was why when we got home, I took her upstairs to the bathroom and took a good look at it.  It was like a cat flap in her line of pearly whites.  Not hanging by a thread, but hinged on the back edge of the tooth.  I kept waiting for Jerry the Mouse to come bursting out or some Looney Tunes critter.  I looked her in the eye and said.  "It's time."  She smiled, giggled, and closed her eyes.

And then, I yanked it out.

There was blood.  There were tears.  (And truth be told, there was a bit of a sweat on my brow.)  But that offensive piece of enamel would mock me no more.

Of course, I did notice that his partner wasn't in much better shape.  I suspect it was using the first one as support and it began wobbling for all it was worth.  There had been enough trauma and drama this day however and this culprit was safe... for now.

Fast forward to Friday.

It's Sports Day at school!  (How could I have forgotten!)

This year they decided to try something a little different and instead of the normal stations and moving from station to station in teams.  Because of the World Cup, they decided to play football (translation: soccer).  They broke Years 1 - 3 up into teams with kids of varying ages on each team and had a little play off and did the same with Years 4 - 6.

I figured Kate would be fine with this.... come on now!  She has Mini-Strikers (Football/Soccer Club) after school on Thursdays.  She always seems to be having a good time!  Okay, so they never really play a proper game of football/soccer.  They play lots of little games that are meant to improve their football/soccer skills.

Yes, yes... I live in hope.


So, Kate on the football pitch is similar to... well, Lucy on the baseball field (or me for that matter) or even me hunting with Uncle Joe.  (Me:  *pointing down the field as we're walking along*  Hey!  There goes one! (rabbit))

She is in her own world most of the time.  Trying to see what kind of weird and interesting positions her body can manage.  Chewing her nails.  Watching impassively as the ball rolls past her....

Her team was .... the Netherlands.

Kate warming up....

Guess where the ball is??

Doing some between game agility exercises....

Team pep talk!

Game 2:  (They won their first game 1-0.)

A little stretch....

Kateosaurus on the pitch!

Hey!  Look everyone!  I have.... a leg!!

Dad stopped by to watch.

Game 3:  (They lost their second game 2-1... the other team cheated! This was for the third place position.)


Can't let those muscles get tight!

Can you spot Kate?

Making a wall to defend against a free kick.  Where's the loose brick? (The ball didn't get through....)

I'll watch from here.....

Mom, please... you're worse than the paparazzi...

They won the game on penalty shots.... strangely enough, Kate wasn't one of the ones jumping up and down to take one.

And when it was all over.... this is probably what she would have preferred to be doing all along....

I managed to get one shot of her "in action."  Keep in mind... I think there is a little bit of hero worship going on for the boy running for the ball. 

And when it was all over, they were all given ice lollies (translation: popsicles) and sat in the shade to clap and cheer for each other.

And then I saw it....

The look of panic.

And I just knew.....

I quietly asked Lucy's mom, Jude, if she had a tissue.  She offered me a wipe, thinking that I was about to clean off the stickiness that had dribbled down  her.  "No," I informed her.  "I think someone is about to lose another tooth."

The parents seemed to freeze in place and watch in fascinated horror as I went to Kate to assess the situation.  Tears were already sliding out the corners of her eyes and she held up her bloody popsicle for me to inspect.  I wiped them away and took a look.

Gave it a wiggle.

Smiled are her reassuringly.

"You ready," I asked.

Poor, brave bunny.  She nodded her head.

And out it came.

We are now legends on the playground and Kate can sing "All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth" and mean it!

And that's all she wrote!

Cheese!!!

Another one bites the dust!!

(This makes three in case anyone is counting.)

The one next to it is VERY wobbly.  I think now that its friend has gone.... it will be leaving soon.

Then she'll look like me when I was that age!!  (Sorta kinda)

My Life with Madame with Pancakes on the Side

Well, it's July.

Happy belated 4th of July to my American counterparts!  I managed to herd the entire family to church yesterday and I was no sooner in the door when Josie (who has a relation who jumped the pond in the opposite direction back during the wars) grabbed me by the hand and dragged me to the social hall.

"You have to see this," she said conspiratorially.  "There's ANOTHER American here!" 

And sure enough there was.  I met Scott who was here visiting his girlfriend.  I want to say that he's from Missouri.  I know it's the Midwest and I'm pretty sure he said St Louis.  I remember thinking that it was odd that he identified himself by his city rather than his state.  Then again, it makes sense.  He knew that he was talking to a fellow countryman who would probably at least recognise his city.  If I told people that I was from Reading, they'd think I was just confused.  (Since the *original* Reading is not that far from here.)

"How long have you been here?"  He asks politely.

"Almost five years," I answer as my stomach lurches and my brain redoes the math again.  Has it really been that long?

"Ah."  He says.  "That explains why you're losing your accent."

Losing my accent!?  Well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised since I've always said that I don't have an accent.  It's everyone else that does.  Or maybe he expects all the the United States to have the same soft Midwestern twang that strums through his syllables.

Anyhow....  we wished each other a happy 4th of July and launched into the Star-Spangled Banner much to the delight of those around us and dissolved into a fit of giggles before we got very far.  (Thank goodness.... there was NO way I was going to manage the upper range today.... or most days!)  His girlfriend proudly told us that he had been served pancakes for breakfast.

Pancakes?

This immediately fired up the imagination of those around us.  You must remember that the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday is known as Pancake Day here.... and in case I didn't tell you, British pancakes are nothing like American pancakes.

"Is this a tradition," asked Carol.  Carol is my sister in baking and is always quick to point out how much she loves mine.  "Our Chip is quite the baker," she says to them as she takes my hand and squeezes it.  She goes on to recount the most recent cake that I had brought to the PCC half-day gathering  just the Saturday  before.  "Pumpkin cake with cranberries and chocolate chip and this lovely gooey cream cheese icing...."

I fear I may have to get her a napkin.

But we return to the topic of pancakes.

"Did she make you proper pancakes?"  I look to Scott and arch an eyebrow knowingly.

"Proper pancakes?"  Carol pounces on the culinary mystery like a cat who has rediscovered a catnip mouse long forgotten.

"Yes," Scott's girlfriend answers eagerly.  "With buttermilk and everything."

I notice Scott looking a bit puzzled.  "You have to understand," I explain to him.  "When my husband told me that he was making pancakes, what I got was something more like a crepe.  Think thin... like a tortilla."

Scott has the good sense to look horriifed.

"What is an American pancake," Carol asks eager for information.

"They're fluffy."  I hold my fingers apart to the appropriate and approximate thickness.  "And you spread them thick with butter and drown them in maple syrup.  None of this sprinkle with lemon juice and icing sugar." (Translation:  Powdered sugar.)

I can see her mind racing.  Plotting.  Planning.

"I know what you're up to," I warn her.

She smiles that bright warm smile that makes people around her feel so at ease and at home.  It is that same bright and geniune smile that I remember shining from my own Grandmother and some of the older generation at Rosedale when I was young.

"Can you blame me?" She giggles.  "How DOES one get an invitation to breakfast at your house?"

I don't ruin her fantasy by telling her that breakfast at my house is not usually pancakes and crispy bacon.  It's usually cold cereal or toast or eggs and toast.

Before I am summoned to another area of the church, I express my pleasure in meeting him and tell him that if he found himself living on this side of the Atlantic, we could start a club.

As I mentioned before... it's July.

Kate has three weeks of school left until Summer break.  15 days of school and counting.

She is... exhausted!

With the summer days upon us the sun starts peeking through the curtains (who am I kidding... there is no peeking about it.... it's a freight train of light pouring into the room) at about 5am.  No matter that her shades are down, she's up with the birdies.  Going to bed is no easier.  Though I put her into bed by 8pm, some nights she is up until 9:30 or 10:00 just hanging out in her room, unable to sleep and not quite understanding why she has to.

"But Mum!"  She tries to explain.  "It's still light out!"

This makes for a VERY tired child when I go to get her at school.  Tired and GRUMPY!

Most afternoon journeys involve her trying to pick a fight with me about any bit of nonsense that she can find. It usually involves her asking for something or asking to do something and me using the dreaded "No" word.  This is followed by a period of stomping and ranting or whining on her part and me just kind of tuning her out until she can get home and get a snack and chill out for a bit.

Usually, she comes back to my cheerful child.  Sometimes, she doesn't quite make it.

I try to be patient.  I know where the behaviour is coming from and at the moment I don't have a solution for it.  (Blackout blinds are on their way.... keep your fingers crossed.)

One afternoon, she got all her markers out and was happily colouring.  No problem there.

When she had finished, she simply walked away from them.  Slight problem there.

"Kate," I reminded her.  "Don't forget to pick up your markers."

"No," she said defiantly.  "I don't want to."

"No problem," I replied breezily.  "I'll just throw them away then you don't have to worry about them."

"Can you help me?"

I've been down this road before.  Her version of me helping is for me to do it while she supervises.  Well, not today Madame.  "No." I said firmly.  "I didn't get them out.  I didn't use them. I'm getting dinner ready.  Now, please pick up your markers or I'm going to get cross."

"I'm tired.  I need a nap."

Ooooo... she's not tried that piece of manipulation for quite some time.  She's figuring I know she's tired and will dismiss her to her room where she can play without having to actually clean up.

"Well, clean up your markers and then you can go up and take a nap."  I was cool and calm.

"Fine!" She flounced down and started picking up the markers. "I don't know why I have to do EVERYTHING!"

And now every hair on the back of my neck stood up and there was definitely an edge to my voice.

"Everything?"  I questioned.  "I'm sorry.... do you do the dishes?  Make dinner?  Do the laundry?"

"No," she said with a small voice.

"Should I expect that you will be doing these things soon?  Because then I can sit and colour while you make the dinner."

Silence.

Then.  "But Mum... I'm just a child.  I'm not allowed to use the stove."  Before I can reply she's dissolved into tears and is sobbing "I'm sorry."

She's actually a really helpful kid most of the time.  I can't say enough about how eager she is to help me and is always asking if there is something she can do.  It's just the curse of having a nice summer.  If it was a normal English summer there would be cloudy, overcast mornings that wouldn't light the world up with a high-powered torch (translation: flashlight) and she would probably get more sleep.

So, this is the behaviour I have to deal with at the moment.

Now, there are a few people here who have watched the American series "The Gilmour Girls."  The series is shown quite frequently on one of the channels during the afternoon and it is one of those things that I sit down and watch when I'm feeling a bit... homesick.

Jeff tries to ban me from watching it on occasion because he claims it is going to give me unrealistic expectations on what my relationship with Kate is going to be like.

Well, to quote one of my "Gilmour Girl Groupies."  Last week, I would have made Lorelei Gilmore VERY proud.

It was afternoon.... again.

I was picking Kate up from school.... again.

And she was GRUM-PEE..... again.

It was someone's birthday in the class and they handed out candy as the kids left.  As Kate thrust her bookbag, lunch box, and candy bar at me, I noted that it was coconut and that she... probably wouldn't like it.  I shoved it into her lunch box and remained silent... for now.

It was hot.

And so we started the walk home.  (It's not that far, honest... it just feels like it when your companion's mood would make Blackbeard the pirate look like Little Mary Sunshine.)

"Mum," she asked (and I use that term loosely) "I want to eat my candy bar."

"Not right now, Kate," I explained while putting on my "Give me Patience" hat.  "It's too hot.  I don't want you to get chocolate all over yourself.  You can have it when we get home."

"No!" She exclaimed in that voice that tells me that there is no reasoning with her and I'm probably going to have to play the "because I'm the Mom" card today.  "I want to eat it NOW!"

"I said no."  I calmly asserted.

"I'm hungry!  I'm GOING to eat something NOW!"

"Well, what are you going to do?  Start chewing on that tree over there?  Because I'm not opening up this lunch box."

Stomp stomp stomp.

"Fine!  I'm moving out!"

And time stood still for a moment while my mind processed the absurdity of that statement.

Still, I'm not even ruffled.  With a perfectly reasonable tone of voice, I replied to her.  "That's fine.  Just let me know where you move to so that I can send your toys  I wouldn't want you to be without Ellie."

There was.... stunned silence.

Less stomping.

A minute or so went by and she tried again.

"I'm moving out and you're going to be sooooo sad and I'm going to be mad because I'm going to be sad!"

I clucked my tongue gently in a compassionate manner.  "I'm sorry to hear that.  Just make sure I know where you are so I can pack all your animals and mail them to you.  You might feel better then."

5.....4......3.......2.....1.......

"THIS ISN'T THE WAY IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE HAPPENING.!!!"

Poor thing.  It's what happens when you try to out drama a Drama Queen... though she definitely has a Drama Princess Tiara.

I didn't say much (if anything) the rest of the way home and by the time we got to the door, she worked herself up into a right state.  She was sobbing and crying.  "Mum..... I'm going to be so sad because I'm never going to see you again!"

"Don't be silly," I told her as I ruffled her hair.  "No one said you HAVE to move out, that's your choice.  I don't WANT you to go.  You can stay if you like."  I unlocked the doors and ushered her inside.  "Now go get changed and I'll make your snack."

I unpacked her lunch leftovers and arranged them on a plate, unwrapping the troublesome candy bar and placing it on the side.

"Mmmm...." she said  as she practically skipped into the kitchen. "Is that the candy bar?"

"Yes, it is," I told her.  "But I don't think you'll like it."

"I like it!"  She said with the same conviction that she uses when she asserts that she likes High School Musical eventhough she has NEVER seen it.

"If you say so," I smiled as she took the bar and nibbled the tiniest bit of the chocolate coating off of it.  A mouse would have done more damage to the smooth surface.

"Mmm!  I like it!"  She reasserted.

"Kate."  I said knowingly.  "You only ate the chocolate, you haven't eaten the coconut yet."

"Do I like coconut?" She looked puzzled.

"No, I don't think you will," I told her.  "But try it."  She has surprised me before.  In fact, most of her toddler years were a surprise to me when it came to food.  I should be prepared for her to actually like it.

A small bit of the white inside was consumed.

"Well?"  I asked.

"I like it," she said triumphantly.... but there is something in her voice that tells me otherwise.

"Okay, go on upstairs.  I'll be up in a bit."  She wanted to play some of her Zoo Tycoon computer game today and so she went up to get started while I did some dinner prep.  Eventually, I wandered up and she was playing happily.  The plate beside her was empty.... except for a not quite half-eaten candy bar.

I said nothing.

"Mum," she said as I passed by her.  "I'm really full.  Can you eat the rest of the candy bar for me?"

I chuckled knowingly.

"What?!" She exclaimed a bit TOO forcefully.  "I am REALLY full."

"Of course, you are, dear."  I sat at my desk and sighed.  I hadn't expected it to start quite so soon.  I thought I still had a few years left before we entered this phase of our relationship.  A few more years before I was always wrong and didn't know anything.  I certainly hadn't expected the lengths that she would go to so that she would not have to admit that I was right.

Maybe there's still hope.  Maybe she and I will breeze through her teenage years with me being the firm and witty mom who doesn't miss a trick and has a daughter who doesn't try to use them.  Every episode of drama in our lives will end with a hug and laughter.  Maybe it's just the side-effects of a tired little girl who is straining for the summer term to end so that she can run wild for a bit, stretch her legs and her imagination and go where ever her mind can take her.

Or... maybe I should start looking into convent schools NOW.

Snoopy Girl

Nothing else to really say here... just sharing some more pictures of the Katester that I took a while ago.

These were taken in honour of my brother's birthday back in May. He has a pair of beagles (A big shout out to Lily and Barney!!) and a healthy love of the most famous beagle of all... Snoopy.


Big hugs for everyone!

CHEESE!

And a BIG kiss!

The thoughtful pose....

Boy!  Being a model is tiring!

One more smile for the camera....

Uh oh... check her left hand!  Could it be?  Oh no!

It is!  It's the Kateosaurus!!!!  Run for your lives!!!

I'm afraid that the photoshoot was unable to continue due to the photographer being eaten by the Kateosaurus.

Spaceman Kate and other oddities

So, a polar bear walks into a bar and says, "Bartender, give me a whiskey and coke and some......
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
....................peanuts."

The barman looks up and says, "Sure thing, but why the big paws?"

(Pause. Paws. Get it?)

So, yep... it's been 6 months since I've found my way back to THE BLOG. Now, before I fill the page with any drivel that drives my mother around the bend (like tennis commentary) I better soothe the unruly masses with the only thing that anyone really comes here for... and that is Kate.

Kate had another assembly during the spring term. Since they were learning about space, it was appropriately space themed. Now, there are two videos (hopefully... I'm still trying to coax the technology into allowing me to post them.... one down, still working on one.) The first video is the class reciting a poem written by John Rice. It is entitled "Constant, Constant Little Light."

Mrs DuPlessis did a brilliant job at staggering the kids at different levels so everyone could be seen. Thus, you can see Kate. The second video which is a song called "Space Jam" everyone is standing and Kate is in the second row, so.... you catch glimpses of the greatness that is she.

I have included the words after each video so that you know what they are saying/singing.

Hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoy her.





Constant, Constant Little Light

Constant, constant little light,
Catch me eye in darkest night.
What can speed so fast, so high.
Laser like across the sky?

When the sleepy sun has set,
And the night has cast her net.
It’s then your orbit forms a ring,
Round the earth a song to sing.

Constant, constant little light,
I know you’re a satellite.

Cruising, spinning, seldom seen,
Beaming pictures to our screens.
Weather-watching, tracking storms,
Plotting maps and all life forms.

Scanning, spying from above,
Are you hawk or are you dove?
Silent, stealthy space age Thor,
Armed with weapons for a real star war.

From your tiny, silver glow,
Who can tell what wrongs may flow.
But for now I hold you bright,
Constant, constant little light.

Constant, constant little light,
I know you’re a satellite.

~John Rice





Spaceship Jam

My spaceship’s shiny, it’s really fast.
Zooming down the highway, it’s such a blast.
It could do ninety, well, that’s the plan.
But there’s traffic ahead, so I’m stuck here instead
In a spaceship jam!

And I hear
Beep, beep, beep,
Beep, beep, beep,
Beep, beep, beep,
And I hear
Beep, beep, beep,
Beep, beep, beep,
Beep, beep, beep,

My spaceship’s curvy, it’s really cool.
It makes people stare when I drive it to school.
I like to go racing, I’m faster than you!
But there’s no space above me, below or behind
There’s a spaceship queue!

And I hear
Beep, beep, beep,
Beep, beep, beep,
Beep, beep, beep,
And I hear
Beep, beep, beep,
Beep, beep, beep,
Beep, beep, beep

My spaceship’s gorgeous, I’m glad that it’s mine.
Soaring off round the planet, looking real fine.
But today I’m not moving, I’ve gone into decline,
‘Cos I’m trapped here, I’m not going anywhere
Stuck in a spaceship line!

And I hear
Beep, beep, beep,
Beep, beep, beep,
Beep, beep, beep,
And I hear
Beep, beep, beep,
Beep, beep, beep,
Beep, beep, beep


And a few pictures from the day....

Is Mom here yet?




Game Face ON!



The excitement builds....



"Eye" remembered the choreography!



And sang my best....



But saved the best "cheese" for Mom...



Until I post again....

In the Snow Again....

I'm so glad to be in the snow again...

The life I love is to my husband to attend...

And I'm so glad to be in the snow again....

(Thank you, Willie.)

So, I woke up this morning and looked out the window and said, "Uh, oh... I better check the school website." Jeff groaned next to me and turned his face into the pillow in order to use some of the juicier expletives that he knows.

It was a fine snow, falling softly, straight down. The roads were sheets of solid slippery.

And the school website said, "School is open. Please use care when travelling."

Kate didn't seem too upset that she had to go. She looked hopeful when she realized I was checking the website, but when I said that she'd be going to school she simply shrugged and said, "May I have some breakfast please?"

No problem.

"Are you going to try to go to work today," I said to Jeff, trying not to sound hopeful.

"Yes," he groaned.

So, I packed two sets of lunches and bundling the girl up, off to school we went.

The walk was treacherous. The roads were skating arenas. People were driving stupidly.

And we arrived at school just fine.

Some of the moms were visibly shaken. Living too far from the school to walk in this kind of weather, they had set out by car without realizing how bad it really was.

"Hey," I said to Eleanor's mom. "I've been meaning to tell you that if you ever feel like you just can't bear to bundle up Isabelle, or push the pushchair (stroller) through the snow, I'll be glad to either stop by and take Eleanor to school or drop her off on the way home." (Eleanor lives around the corner from us.)

She thanked me and then there was nothing left to do except kiss Kate the Great farewell and trudge home.

Stamping my feet as I entered the warmth of the house, I noted the backpack sitting by the front door.... where it sat on the way out.

"I wouldn't suggest that you try to go to work in this," I called up as I took the sandwiches from the bag and put them in the fridge, then went about making tea for me, hot chocolate for him, and toast for both.

After consulting with the staff, the decision was made to cancel WOW! for the day. Better safe than sorry. I would rather we be sorry that we cancelled it when perhaps we didn't need to than be sorry that someone got hurt while either coming to it or travelling home after it.

Around noon, I looked out the window again. It didn't seem to be letting up. So, I navigated my way back to the website once more.

"Due to the weather and treacherous road conditions, some staff who have a long journey home are leaving at lunchtime today. School will remain open until 3.20pm, but if you are able to collect your child early it would be a great help. Children can be collected from 1.30pm. Please come to the school office."

I COULD leave her there until 3:20pm... but what that was essentially saying was that the school was going to turn into a mass babysitting service until 3:20p. So, 1:30pm pick up it would be.

And then the phone rang. It was Eleanor's Mom! She was actually taking me up on my offer. I can't say I blame her. I've watched her struggle along the sidewalks and roads trying to get to school and get home. Eleanor is really a sweet, well-mannered girl... it is no hardship to walk with her.

Jeff went with me... in case I needed help *herding children.* I think he just wanted out of the house.

Do I have to mention Kate was thrilled to death to see us arrive at school to take her home?

And now, some pictures... I know that's what you all are looking for anyway...