Skip to main content

Where it all began..


When I was home last July, I was lucky enough to not only be there for a dear friend's wedding but also take part in a very civilised stagette (Americans: bachelorette, UKers: Hen do).

My married friend K was in the wedding and therefore did most of the planning for the stagette and so I expected her to live it up quite a bit on our big night out.

I always seem to be the party supervisor - not it the practical sense but the 'is everyone drinking-having a good time?' sense.

For some reason, if you are not drinking, I WILL NOTICE. If you happen to be someone who does not drink, I WILL NOTICE if you have one.

My friend K is a bartender/student. This means that she is not adverse to a tipple or two or five. I feel at home when she's around because everyone else is either driving or pregnant or has to work the next day or has a wee one that will be waking them up too early in the morning.

It was about 30 seconds after this picture was taken that I had to ask why she wasn't actually getting her party groove on and packing them back like me?

Oh, she said knowingly. I made the mistake of having a few after work last night and I'm still suffering from a hangover.

Ah, I said understandingly, that's too bad *gulp big slurp of g&t*

And I didn't think anything else of it.

Until..

At a girlie BBQ the next day, which happened to be my last night in the good old Small Town, she pulled me aside and told me she had to tell me something.

'I know it's early on,' she said 'but I wanted to tell you to your face...'

'oh my god. oh my god. oh my god!'

This seems to be all I can say when people reveal to me their procreation news.

I jumped up and down and half mimed screaming (so as not to alert the others) as she said:

'I'm one month pregnant'

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

and oh, so that's why you weren't drinking last night.

And so it is my great pleasure to let you know internet that little Miss A. K. C. was brought into the world on Tuesday February 7 at 10:30ish EST.

Can't wait to meet you Miss A. You're a very lucky little girl. Just a tip - your mom is a sucker for L Park and will go swinging any time of the day with you. Just tell her your big Aunt A said so.

Congrats K and R. All these years and finally you've met your match.

What a great pre-Valentine's gift.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I'm baaaack!

Hard to believe that last entry was almost three years ago!

Many moons ago, I set this blog up to chronicle our journeys. Once we were grounded a bit more, it kind of lost its way. I spent some time working on my writing offline, taking on different projects and working full time as a technical writer. It was difficult to keep this blog up. Not for any real reason I can articulate. Just had my words redirected to other avenues for awhile.
But, I'm pleased to say, after over a decade away, we are back in the UK, living and re-experiencing a place we enjoyed in the mid-2000s.
Social media has certainly changed the way we look at blogs. I'm excited to navigate this new world, explore just what people post, what people read. What's better on one of the many new platforms and what's still appropriate for good old fashioned blogosphere.
For now, here's a peek at where we're staying -- in a pretty little village just outside of Oxford. A temporary home for now but suc…

Focus

My regular journaling has significantly improved my mood.

I've been taking some time, twice a week, to polish existing content as well as develop my floating ideas into a more concrete outline.

I've felt this focus for the last 6 weeks that I can't really describe properly. It's as though I've shifted my thinking totally. Writing is my craft. It's what I do, who I am, how I exist. It's like my mojo.

So, I guess, I've gotten my mojo back. My focus, my purpose, my essence.

And it feels good. It feels right. And I am almost understanding more now why the best writing of the best writers happens when they are older, more polished, more experienced, more rough around the edges.

When all the youthful spark has been extinguished and what's left, is the determined embers, that will not go softly, that will not die out. That will continue, fervently glowing, creating warmth and not just drawing attention from its flicker, but pulling people in by it's so…

In Remembrance

"In Flanders fields the poppies blow
      Between the crosses, row on row,."

When I was eight years old, I carried the Canadian flag in the Remembrance Day parade for our Brownie unit. I can't really remember when I realized the importance of November 11 but I can only imagine that somewhere between learning about that day at school and taking part in a very solemn ceremony that it must have been ingrained in my head to always mark this day.

   "That mark our place; and in the sky
   The larks, still bravely singing, fly"

I remember growing up, the assemblies at school, always with a older veterans, in those days many from both World Wars, would attend. When I got to high school, I remember not being able to fathom how these decorated men and women, had once been my age, had once stood up and fought, and had made these decisions during the same years I would try to decide which route to take from English to Science just to maybe catch a glimpse of my current cru…