merry holidays and christmas! etcetera,

This is the image on our holiday card this year, which was taken during that fateful Guardians of the Galaxy ride at DISNEYWORLD [see my report on that particular adventure here]. This picture was snapped well after my body had gone entirely limp, as I began to make my peace with death (it took a full two days for me to recover from that ride). There are many regrets upon taking that ride. I shall never mention this experience again. I will point out, as well, that I did not choose this image as our holiday photo. We shall speak no more of it.

happy seasonal things, christmas + greetings,

From all of us to all of you: whatever it is you celebrate, if at all, I hope it is merry, healthy and all other good things. We can only improve from here, I think.

Photo credit: Elizabeth Fulton Photography.

happy christmas holiday what-sis goodness etcetera

There's an awful of anxiety over the past few years, but I'm extremely grateful for these young ladies. We've been laying low, and even lower, lately, given rising numbers, but we are still here. Hoping whatever it is you celebrate is safe, and everyone around you remain healthy. This is perhaps all we really require.

Jenna of Four Leaf Photography

happy christmas holiday what-sis goodness etcetera

What is it Doctor Who said, during my first post-mother Christmas ten years ago? We are half-way out of the dark. We are getting through this, and already most of the way. A good seasonal holiday to you and yours from our house-bound menagerie.

some of our christmas etcetera

Rose reading, given we had to move much of their room into ours for the sake of painting

I'll admit I've felt breathless the past year or so, given some of our circumstances. Christine's health, for example, which have had her off work for months (she returns, slowly, beginning next week) and my father's February ALS diagnosis, which has had me caregiving various weekends. I am behind and I am behind and I am perpetually behind. But we persevere. We push through.

Why do we fall sir? So that we can learn to pick ourselves up.

Although it feels a bit selfish to suggest anything along those lines. I am not the one sick.

At home, we are here. Rose and Aoife now have a bunk bed, finally. It was Rose's request, although we had to confirm that she understood that it meant neither of us could lay down with her at bedtime anymore. She understood. Yes, yes. She did, she said.

When Aoife saw it, a yell we could hear through the house: I LOVE IT!

And I'm sure you've already seen my report on December 28th reading at the Carleton Tavern, our annual Peter F. Yacht Club Christmas party/reading/regatta?

And you saw last year's Christmas post, with accompanying children-elf-Christmas-card pictures?

This year, for the weekend prior to Christmas, we did our usual Montebello jaunt with father in law and his wife, heading the hour or so east into Quebec for our young ladies to run around and to run around (this is where we were as our handyman painted the girls' room and put together said bunk beds).

We also managed to catch that new Star Wars flick, just before the school break; we'd scheduled for noon on the last Friday of school, but Aoife home sick (fortunately, mother-in-law was able to watch her while we went to see it, home in just enough time to collect Rose from school).

Montebello: we sat by the fire, we had drinks, the children explored. We saw Michael Blouin and his family, quite randomly. There for a few days as well.

The young ladies spent some goodly time, and we were even allowed a solo dinner, once the children were fed, and Aoife asleep (father in law watched a sleeping Aoife in our room, and Teri kept Rose, who was wired for some reason; Rose decided she was staying the night in their room, which was fine).

We even wandered outside for a while, including through the curling rink, where Blouin had been for a bit. Should we attempt this next year?

The next morning: Christine and the girls swam in the pool as I read, or attempted to. At least managed a few things flipped through. The introductions to this new Bob Kaufman volume, which is pretty interesting. Have you seen this?

The young ladies, awash in their lifejackets.

And then we home without incident (which is always nice).

father sorting his mail (and breathing), Christine knitting, Rose colouring and Huey the dog clamouring for attention

The next morning, Christmas Eve-Eve, we made for the farm for two nights, which included allowing my sister a break from caregiving our father, as well as a respite from having to host Christmas dinner, which we always do on Christmas Eve.

Everything on the farm went far better than expected, although none of us really slept properly (I rarely sleep properly on the farm, wishing to remain alert in case required, as I sleep with the baby monitor to listen for him). Kate wasn't able to make it this year, which was a bit frustrating (caught up in the schedule of a new job), but we managed.

It did feel as though the young ladies were in constant motion.

Christmas morning: we couldn't even remember the last time my father would have witnessed children tearing through stockings. Kathy's children? Or Kate, before Kathy had her first child? We don't even know. Some time, at least. They were up early, but we kept them in the kitchen until he awoke, and his medical assistance got him out of bed and up.

I told the girls they had it lucky: when we were young, Kathy and I not only had to wait for him to come in from the morning milking, but then for him to eat breakfast, before we were allowed into the living room. It was the only time we were allowed down the back stairs (from the master bedroom down to the kitchen). And he always took forever.

Mid-morning on Christmas day, we made for home for a couple of hours for the children to tear through further presents, before ending up at mother-in-law's house for dinner. The children ran around some more, put on costumes, opened up presents. Were hilarious (of course).

And for the following two days: we slept, (or at least, tried to: until the onset of our Peter F. Yacht Club event).

happy christmas/holidays/seasonal things,

what we did on our christmas break etc

We had a lot going on this Christmas break, as you might imagine with wee children and an extended zoo of family [see last year’s entry here, as well], but with most of our plans not exactly falling into place in the ways we had hoped. Either way, we’re all doing motly well. Here’s some of what we had going on:

Aoife's preschool holiday party, preparing the stage for Santa's arrival

Early/mid-December: Both Aoife and Rose had their preschool/school concerts. Aoife’s preschool had a later afternoon/evening gathering where the children sang on stage. Aoife had been singing randomly for a couple of weeks, so we knew what the songs were already (Rose did the same, at her age), but she refused to go on stage to sing with the group. Rose, of course, was already happily ensconced on a cushy chair in the centre of the stage, like she owned the place.

Two weeks later, the combined senior and junior kindergarten classes had a morning assembly, which Rose spent days informing us she wasn’t interested in participating in, but watching (so, you’d be on stage for Aoife’s, but not your own?). Once we arrived, she was already there, waiting. She participated, fully, but for some stage-time playing with the curtain, which caused the girl beside her to actually grab her shoulders in a STOP DOING THAT WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU way, which seemed to amuse Rose (but she did stop). And for both of their groupings of teachers (three each): we gave them each a David’s Tea gift card, and a fresh banana bread (is it wrong that I feel slightly smug every time I gift one of their teachers a loaf of fresh bread I baked? Probably).

December 16, 2018: As we often have, we had our Christmas with father-in-law and his wife Teri before Christmas, for the sake of their Florida, come Boxing Day. With the wee girls we had a quiet gathering at their new-ish condo off Main Street, still awash in perpetual construction. Rows of condo, condo, hole in the ground, frozen layers of mud. The children made puzzles, we drank wine, it was good. Montebello, where we’ve Christmassed with them a few times now, will still be there (and apparently Montebello is undergoing renovations anyway, so there you go).

December 21, 2018: While not technically break yet, we were awfully close. Christine, Aoife and I (as Rose in school) lunched with my sister, Kathy, etcetera to celebrate niece Emma’s fifteenth birthday. Fifteen! We lunched at a buffet that apparently everyone in the world has been to except me. I wished to spend the day there (Christine said no). We saw cousins and even a further cousin, with my Aunt Bette and cousin Lori Anne Page in from the East End (Bette is widow of my mother’s youngest sibling, Bob). They were good to see, although slightly sad that Rose missed such (but we suspect Aoife was so quiet and well behaved because Rose wasn’t there for them to get each other worked up). Before we left, Aoife spent a long time attempting the fish in the fish-pond.

the new ramp at the homestead

December 24, 2018: We aimed to host my immediate family again this year, in our wee house (Kate’s new employment prevented her attendance, which was frustrating), but our father breathless the prior few days; that he was coughing up blood on the evening of the 23^rd meant that my sister took him into the hospital in Alexandria, where they kept him overnight. Possibly his meds, they thought. Blood thinners making his blood far too thin. They shifted his meds, and it did seem to improve such, but it took a few hours.

We considered, instead, bringing all of our presents and food and fixin’s to my sister’s house, once Christine released noonish from work. Until we heard from Kathy around noon, though, we didn’t even know if such a plan was possible, but it was. He was feeling a bit better, and released home, but certainly not up for travelling up to our house. Turkey remained in our fridge. The scalloped potatoes unprepared, etcetera. Unopened can of cranberry sauce. My sister prepared, as we called it, a “pizza-mas” (which went well with her recent “cheese-giving,” earlier in the fall). All was good, and presents and I drank wine and Christine and my sister drank bubbly, etcetera.

pizzamas

We were half-way to the farm before we realized all the food we’d had ready that we could have brought with, but didn’t: the fresh blueberry pie, the bag of rolls, my grandmother’s lemon icebox cookies I’d made, the jellied salad I’d made (that my family has always had as part of Christmas dinners, but both Christine and Kathy’s husband Corey find very confusing). We spend some goodly hours there, and drove back to Ottawa just around the time the girls would have been prepping for bedtime. We transferred them straight from the car to their beds.

Nephew Duncan received a drum-kit for Christmas, which the girls were quite taken with. The three of them played (the girls finding musical instruments in the play-room to accompany Duncan’s drums) very noisily for a while. At one point, Duncan said: “I played the drums loud to frighten away the girls.”

“If you wanted to frighten girls away,” I offered, “you should have been a bass player.” Gold.

Christine didn’t think it was funny, so I posted same to twitter, later in the day. Pure gold.

the three ladies at the McLennan homestead

Christmas morning

December 25, 2018: We woke early for the sake of children, who tore into stockings. Now that Rose is beginning to get her head around reading, the gifts under the tree were distributed and opened within minutes, Rose handing one to Aoife, one to me, one to Christine, one to herself and teartearteartear and onto the next. One had to step back for safety.

Also, Christine's back had been bothering her already for some time, but she threw it out entirely by mid-day, just by attempting to pick it up. A VERY LOUD CURSE WORD WAS HEARD FROM THE LIVING ROOM, and then a whole lot of silence. Later on, I had to inform Christine she cursed at all, which she wasn't aware of. She turned to Rose: Did Mama curse earlier? Oh yes, replied Rose. Christine slow moving and slightly bent for the remainder of the day.

Given we weren’t scheduled to appear at mother-in-law’s for dinner until 4pm, midday was quieter. I sat at my desk, and managed the first half of He Speaks Volumes: A Biography of George Bowering (Talonbooks), the new biography by Rebecca Wigod. Strange to not only read a biography from someone I know, but to see myself within, twice.

Once in the basement of mother-in-law’s house, Rose repeated the morning’s gift handout and opening. I had tried to warn Oma, but she was still startled (and impressed) by Rose’s speed and efficiency.

The young ladies played happily with new toys and games and Oma’s bin of dress-up clothes in her basement. After dinner and some wine, we decided it was just easier to stay over, allowing the three grown-ups to have some good further conversation. And with the girls going to bed so late, they crashed almost immediately. We meandered back home in the morning, appeased (if not a wee bit groggy).

Our cat, Lemonade, was annoyed we’d been out at all, obviously throwing off his expectations of schedule.

Aoife at Science and Tech

December 27, 2018: I was feeling ambitious, so the young ladies and I drove Christine in to work in the morning and managed the Museum of Science and Technology pretty much five minutes after they opened. We ran around for an hour or more, around the time that the museum was starting to fill up. The benefits of Christine’s work being barely a block away, I suppose. The young ladies are rather fond of the trains and of the Krazy Kitchen (Aoife didn't used to be, so this was new), as well as the screen in the floor where the seal "emerges." 

By the afternoon, we were en route to Russell, a half hour or so east for an extended McNair event with a variety of Christine's cousins and their children, etcetera, all while Christine was, of course, still at work. We left after a couple of hours (of fine company and conversation) to collect Christine at her usual time, although at the end of her physio appointment, in another part of the city (conveniently located right by where we like to get shawarma).

December 28, 2018: We had our annual Peter F. Yacht Club Christmas party/reading/regatta over at the Carleton Tavern. See the report from the reading at the above/ground press blog. There was some plenty-good fun to be had, for sure.

A day of work, for both of us, also. Christine’s brother Michael had offered to take both girls during the day so they could play with their cousins. Drop them off on the way to work (Christine did have to work that day), he said. Really? Well, then. And so they spent the whole day with their cousins until Christine collected them at the end of the afternoon, heading straight over to see me at the Carleton Tavern, where we had dinner. Was a goodly day.

Oh, and did I mention I made a mound of my grandmother's lemon icebox cookies? Given some of our other timings, and the fact that I hadn't made them yet, I had to start on them around 7:30am. Ugh,

December 29, 2018: Given Kate was working a new job and unable to attend our Christmas, we planned an extended-family gathering around her schedule. We usually attempt some kind of extended gathering, as my mother’s family has scatterings around Ottawa, and we invite whomever is simply around. This year, my sister and her brood showed, which was nice (I didn’t think our father would be making such, and he did not, although he seems to be doing well enough, albiet with a very low energy), as did my Aunt Bette and her children, Lori Anne and Tim, and my cousn Patti (her sister Kim in Texas, visiting her daughter). Kate and her partner Quinn showed, and we had a goodly gathering. The children went to bed, yet again, rather late, but not before they both helped clean up the house again, after everyone left.

December 30, 2018: Bette and Lori Anne returned for the sake of a last-minute babysit, so Christine and I could go see Aquaman. We visited with them for an hour or so before we wandered off, and the girls had plenty fun with their auntie and cousin. Aquaman was far better than either of us had expected. We have yet to see the new animated Spider-Man (but we will).

December 31, 2018: Christine had a mostly-day of work, but managed to slip on the ice in our driveway on her way out, landing on her back and the back of her head. We found out later in the day (post-work, once she went in to a clinic) that she’d managed both a mini-concussion, and mild whiplash. God sakes. So she’s off her feet, certainly. She’s already doing physio twice a week for her pelvis (thanks to my “big-headed children,” she claims).

It was around this time that I started referring to our holiday period as “holidayus complicatedus” (not exactly an “annus horribilus,” but you see where I’m going).

We’d been weeks aiming a plan to drive off on January 3^rd for a wedding Christine was attending on the 4^th near Burlington, Ontario, and some visiting, possibly Andy Weaver and his family while there, and even Amy Dennis in Owen Sound, aiming to return home on the 7^th or 8^th, but that’s all out now.

Alice Burdick's new selected poems

Our original plan had both girls in full-day care (9am-3:30pm) on the 2^nd, but not the third or fourth, but we managed to get them both in for same. Originally, it was a plan for me to work before we left, but our update managed both a plan for work and a way for Christine to get a couple of full-days of very quiet to rest up, and heal. We hope she recovers soon, but she apparently might not be one hundred percent for a couple of weeks. God sakes.

The young ladies and I, on the other hand, spent the morning with artwork. They coloured for about ninety minutes before switching to painting for an hour. I moved my way through finishing the George Bowering biography, and started into the new selected poems of Alice Burdick.

And we did finally cook that turkey. We dropped it into the freezer upon returning from the homestead, and thawed it out again to cook today. Christine was still out of sorts (to put it mildly), so the children and I dug in. Aoife even helped with setting the table. Yum,

happy holidays! christmassing! etcetera

Here are some photos recently taken of our wee girls for the sake of our Christmas card this year.

Happy Holidays! Christmas and beyond,

for whatever it is you celebrate, might it be a good one, with the hopes of a peaceful (finally) new year.

Here is one of the pictures of the wee girls included in our Christmas card photo shoot this year.

The Peter F. Yacht Club regatta/reading/christmas party!

lovingly hosted by rob mclennan;

The Peter F. Yacht Club annual regatta/christmas party/reading

at The Carleton Tavern (upstairs)
233 Armstrong Avenue (at Parkdale Market)
Friday, December 29, 2017
doors 7pm, reading 7:30pm

with readings from yacht club regulars and irregulars alike, including Roland Prevost, D.S. Stymeist, Faizal Deen, Chris Johnson, Amanda Earl, Christine McNair, Chris Turnbull (weather permitting), Frances Boyle, Anita Dolman and rob mclennan (and most likely some others).

readings! joyousness! possibly even cookies!

HOW COULD YOU SAY NO TO COOKIES?!?!?

some christmas 2016, etc; a series of holiday reports,

Another year, another round of family etcetera around these holidays (see last year's version here). Here are some rough notes on such:

December 17-18, 2016: We did our fourth annual Montebello jaunt with father-in-law and Teri, and brother-in-law Michael and his family. Every year of such we've had another child in the mix, this year being our wee Aoife (I think the grandchildren are holding at four for a while).

The weather en route was minimal (compared to other years), but the storm immediately prior meant that many of the trails had yet to be cleared, reducing any attempt at outdoor activities (whew), although Christine did take Rose out for a bit of a walk on the Sunday morning, as I remained in our room so Aoife could nap (and I managed a few scratchings at poems-in-progress).

Given we'd four children in our group three and younger, I'd say we were rather contained, but wise, I'd say, to have us in the dining room earlier for meals, so we were less likely to bother the crowds (although we did find Montebello much less crowded this year; maybe the weather kept folk away?).

There was mayhem, certainly, but far less than you might think.

And Christine took Rose swimming not long before we left. Rose can now swim solo, if she's a lifejacket on. Terrifying. But the pool was nice and warm and completely empty.

December 24, 2016: We hosted my family again, as we've aimed to do every second year now (this was our second time hosting). Given how many of us there are now (my three children + my sister's three children + them + my father also) every photo in its own way was an action shot.

Kate managed to arrive immediately after she finished work, and just as we were sitting down to dinner. There is something about hosting that feels slightly sad to me, in that the event goes by far quicker than it used to. Back when I would head over to the farm for the same, I would stay at least a day or two, if not up to a week, making the reduction of my family's Christmas down to a few hours rather compact.

It was nice, also, to capture some pictures of all three of my daughters, together. Our two wee ones, of course, in matching pyjamas (apparently Christine has multiple alternate sizes, so they could even wear the same next year if they wished).

December 25, 2016: After the cat woke Rose, who then woke us (really!), we went through stockings and saw what Santa brought each of us. Rose got her bicycle and some jingly bells, Christine got socks, I got a can-opener, among other things (how did I get here?). The young ladies a shared dollhouse I slowly put together, like the 1950s dad I've become.

And, after stockings, we headed over to mother-in-law's house where we spent the day, along with brother-in-law and his family, and even his own mother-in-law. There were more stockings, as well as breakfast. Mimosas! Rose ran and ran and ran with her little cousin Duncan. She loves her cousin Duncan. We stayed the whole day (with a mid-afternoon break during which I delivered a load of presents home and managed to convince Rose to nap). Once we returned, there were toys and treats and crackers and paper hats (Aoife was less impressed with her paper hat).

December 26, 2016: We headed over to Christine's cousin's house in the east end, for Paul and Carla's annual extended McNair gathering. Another day during which Rose ran and ran and ran around with cousins. Food! Drinks! Cousins! I think Rose is in heaven during those days. She only approached me at all during the time we were there because she required a change. She wandered over and announced to me: I need a bum change! And such is my lot.

By the end of the event, leaning towards bedtime, we'd both girls in their pyjamas, as Rose played bongos and Aoife listened.

December 27, 2016: We didn't do anything Christmassy. We were exhausted. I took the young ladies out erranding, to allow Christine a rare solo breath. She did breathe. The ladies provided a valuable assist. Rose wore her new hat.

December 28, 2016: We hosted an extended McLennan/Page gathering far smaller than other years, given circumstance. It meant only my sister and her brood came by, which ended up even being a smaller gathering than what we had on the 24th. It all worked out, giving us a chance to actually hang out a bit more than we had a few days prior. And Rose ran around with her cousins again. She, as I've said before, loves that.

December 29, 2016: With Stephen Brockwell, I hosted our annual Peter F. Yacht Club Christmas party/reading/regatta at the Carleton Tavern, which I posted a report on here.

December 30, 2016: Nothing. We must be quiet now.