Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Bath Time
Another reason I love the Spring so much: giving Lily a bath when the sun's still up is so nice.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
We bought our house 2 years ago at the end of March so we didn't really know or notice what was going on in the front yard. There was still snow on the ground, so we probably just assumed there was your standard square of grass.
But as the first few weeks of Spring dawned, lots of little green things started poking out of the dirt, and when a woman knocked on our door one breakfast imploring us, as the new owners, not to destroy the glorious garden out front, we knew something was up.
In fact, what we'd inherited was nothing short of spectacular. Great whooping poppies, tulips, sweet pea, clematis, sage, lilies, roses, iris, bleeding hearts, about a dozen things I can't remember and peonies the size of Volkswagens all explode out of the ground without fail.
But every time, just before it happens, I'm often found looking nervously out the window at the dirt, muttering "we've wrecked it...it's not coming back this year."
"Are you insane?" Suzanne repeats. She's right of course...I don't think there's anything I could do to stop it, although last year we let the oregano go way too long and it nearly took over the whole place.
I'm the proud son of an excellent gardener and I've been given (that is to say, 'mortgaged myself to the eyeballs to purchase') this gift of a garden, so along with the honour of the gardener's blood coursing through me, I intend not to let it die.
But as the first few weeks of Spring dawned, lots of little green things started poking out of the dirt, and when a woman knocked on our door one breakfast imploring us, as the new owners, not to destroy the glorious garden out front, we knew something was up.
 |
| April 2, 2010 |
 |
| April 24, 2010 |
In fact, what we'd inherited was nothing short of spectacular. Great whooping poppies, tulips, sweet pea, clematis, sage, lilies, roses, iris, bleeding hearts, about a dozen things I can't remember and peonies the size of Volkswagens all explode out of the ground without fail.
But every time, just before it happens, I'm often found looking nervously out the window at the dirt, muttering "we've wrecked it...it's not coming back this year."
 |
| April 2, 2010 |
 | |
| April 24, 2010 |
"Are you insane?" Suzanne repeats. She's right of course...I don't think there's anything I could do to stop it, although last year we let the oregano go way too long and it nearly took over the whole place.
I'm the proud son of an excellent gardener and I've been given (that is to say, 'mortgaged myself to the eyeballs to purchase') this gift of a garden, so along with the honour of the gardener's blood coursing through me, I intend not to let it die.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
How Do You Wrap 8:45?
I had a birthday yesterday, my 36th. I had an ice-cream cake from Lily and Suzanne, and I'm getting another one at work tomorrow, sharing the celebrations with someone who was born on the 19th.
As per presents, my mom and my wife conspired to get me giftcards to the two places that sell the ingredients required to complete a decorating job we've been planning for a while, so that's great.
But the best...the BEST present I got, and probably the best present I've received in ages, was the gift of sleep.
Suzanne and I have a deal whereby she gets up to see to Henry in the night and I wake up with Lily in the morning to do her breakfast and what-have-you. That means since Christmas Day, I haven't been able to sleep in past 7:30...not once. Most days I'm up between 6 and 7, which isn't really that early compared to a lot of people, but when it's every day, including the weekends, it can be pretty draining after a while.
That's why at 7 on Sunday morning, when out of the corner of my eye I saw Suzanne roll out of bed as Lily came into our room, I knew my birthday had come early.
"You sleep," she whispered. Finer words have never been spoken.
As per presents, my mom and my wife conspired to get me giftcards to the two places that sell the ingredients required to complete a decorating job we've been planning for a while, so that's great.
But the best...the BEST present I got, and probably the best present I've received in ages, was the gift of sleep.
Suzanne and I have a deal whereby she gets up to see to Henry in the night and I wake up with Lily in the morning to do her breakfast and what-have-you. That means since Christmas Day, I haven't been able to sleep in past 7:30...not once. Most days I'm up between 6 and 7, which isn't really that early compared to a lot of people, but when it's every day, including the weekends, it can be pretty draining after a while.
That's why at 7 on Sunday morning, when out of the corner of my eye I saw Suzanne roll out of bed as Lily came into our room, I knew my birthday had come early.
"You sleep," she whispered. Finer words have never been spoken.
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