Wednesday, October 5, 2011

A Little Gift from Heaven

Babyface, you've got the cutest little babyface.
I have never forgotten babysitting Kendra's mom, my cousin Heather. I was about 19 if I'm not mistaken (weren't you with me, Shelly?) when we stayed with her on the farm one Halloween night while my aunt and uncle were out kicking up their heels. If I recall correctly some of the local fellas nailed plywood over the doors as a "trick." Anyhoo, Heather was around the same age as little Kendra here and was the sweetest, happiest, smilingest baby I'd ever seen, or have since. Look at her there, still grinning!

Tomorrow we're off for a week's holiday to visit the rellies in Alberta and BC. This has reminded me of The Awful Fate of Melpomenus Jones. You can read about it by clicking here. We’ll avoid his end, and torturing our family and friends, by sticking with my carefully planned itinerary.

Joanne, I’ll be checking email while we’re away, so keep sending me your blog entries; I expect to be able to post them every day. Who knows, I may even manage to write up an entry or two myself.

Stalking the Great Blue Heron

The Great Blue Heron considers whether to stay or go.

Notoriously shy, if you slow your vehicle down too much when driving past, the heron will flap off. I walk past it every day and it won't stand still and let me admire it. You'd think it might get used to me a little. Stuckup bird. I was a passenger in the truck on Sunday and managed to snap this one at a distance. It's a pretty huge bird; I'm awed every time I see it.

Today the wind blew me halfway across the road a couple times. It wasn't too cold, thankfully, so my walk wasn't bad, but that wind, wow.

Regarding The Discovery of Slowness, by Sten Nadolny: "Arctic explorer John Franklin, a man whose natural pace of living and thinking is portrayed as that of an elderly sloth after a long massage and a pipe of opium. Franklin is mocked as a child, but when he reaches the Far North he finds the environment perfectly suited to his nature: a place where one takes one's time, where very little happens, and where it is important to stop and think before rushing into action." - from How to Live, or A Life of Montaigne in 20 Questions (or something). This made me think of Everett, who moves like molasses but always gets where he's going.

Now if I could just figure out a way to get that damn heron to stay put.

I had the best surprise this afternoon when my cousin Heather stopped in with her beautiful six-month-old daughter. Work? Out the window, while I kissed the baby and jabbered with her mom. Photo of her lovely little face tomorrow; tonight, my bed is calling mee-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee.