Monday, October 27, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
more
Okay, so I'm camera happy - at least I'm posting something!!
These were taken at Guisachan Garden, a heritage garden/park where I used to work before I was able to write full time.
Front facing photos such as this are increasingly difficult to capture (as you may have noticed looking at this collection). As soon as I race ahead to get a shot from the front, Oliver turns around. Perhaps he thinks it's his best side??
Oliver meets the resident cat, who we've named "Friendly."
These were taken at Guisachan Garden, a heritage garden/park where I used to work before I was able to write full time.
Front facing photos such as this are increasingly difficult to capture (as you may have noticed looking at this collection). As soon as I race ahead to get a shot from the front, Oliver turns around. Perhaps he thinks it's his best side??
Oliver meets the resident cat, who we've named "Friendly."
Friday, October 17, 2008
oliver out
Okay, I packed up the camera and Oliver and I headed out to the park to wander wherever he desired. As per usual, he chose to head straight to Wolsey Hill (named in honour of himself) to climb, crawl and explore.
Note the rock clutched firmly in hand. Some boys need a stick, Oliver must have a rock (or five) in hand whenever he heads out for a walk. He can hardly walk three steps in a gravelly area without stopping to trade what he has for more. He carefully selects them, the way some people pick chocolates from a box.
Where to go next?
Why, to Wolsey Hill, of course! That would be the mound on the left. For some reason, the mound on the right has just never appealed to him.
Crossing the little red bridge. Sometimes this takes a while, as his collection of rocks is deposited between the slats, one at a time.
More rocks! Do we have a geologist in the making??
While walking is now the preferred mode of transportation, crawling is still the easiest way back down the hill.
'Til next time, then ...
Note the rock clutched firmly in hand. Some boys need a stick, Oliver must have a rock (or five) in hand whenever he heads out for a walk. He can hardly walk three steps in a gravelly area without stopping to trade what he has for more. He carefully selects them, the way some people pick chocolates from a box.
Where to go next?
Why, to Wolsey Hill, of course! That would be the mound on the left. For some reason, the mound on the right has just never appealed to him.
Crossing the little red bridge. Sometimes this takes a while, as his collection of rocks is deposited between the slats, one at a time.
More rocks! Do we have a geologist in the making??
While walking is now the preferred mode of transportation, crawling is still the easiest way back down the hill.
'Til next time, then ...
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
ruminations on autumn living
It’s gotten cold at nights, now. So cold that, this evening when I swept our front entrance hall, I hesitated before sweeping a small, skinny spider out into the darkness. I hate spiders, but I figured he (or was it a she?) should at least have a fighting chance. It was braving the cold or the bottom of Kyle’s shoe and I decided that, had it been given the alternative, it would have chosen freedom. The shoe may have been the swifter and more merciful death, however.
We’re in the throws of autumn, here – red, gold and amber on all the trees, and I’ve been feeling a little bit panicky because the leaves seem to be coming off far too quickly this year. It’s unfortunate that my favourite season also happens to be the shortest one – at least the gorgeous part of it. I suppose it continues on for some time with bare, colourless trees and biting wind before winter officially arrives.
I guess I’m feeling guilty because I’ve got all these adorable fall sweaters for Oliver, colourful mittens and matching toque (which are actually too warm to wear by the afternoon) and warm trousers and overalls so that he can play cosily outside, but I never seem to have the time to take him.
Today, when I tried to put him in his pushchair to walk to Starbucks for a quick meeting, he flipped out. He wanted to walk, and not just to Starbucks – he wanted to go where he wanted to go, which was probably Wolsey Hill, a few hundred yards from our place, where he likes to cross the red bridge back and forth, crawl up (and down) the little mound of a hill and collect stones to leave outside the front door. Like most days, though, it wasn’t on our agenda. He had another freak out when we got home, after I caught him trying to escape down the driveway, toward the park, toward freedom, while I occupied myself unlocking the door.
I remember when days were like centuries and the colours of autumn were low on my list of passions. Funny how it’s become the reverse.
Oliver is only 16 ½ months old. We’re still defining our family style – our combined approach to living. I want it to include long afternoons of playing on the swings and the monkey bars, while I sit on a park bench with a hot drink and a book – or maybe a laptop, tapping out my own story. Or maybe baking things back at home, or doing crafts or having friends over to play. What it seems to consist of in reality is me on my computer on one side of the child “friendly” gate and Oliver on the other side, taking the contents of his toy basket and then his book shelf and tossing them over, one by one, the second child “friendly” gate and onto the stairs. It brings to mind a caged animal, in a pet store or zoo.
Perhaps one of these days Oliver will visit the Nilsen kids and live dangerously for awhile. In the meantime, I think I owe him a trip to Wolsey Hill tomorrow – while there are still a few leaves around to throw.
We’re in the throws of autumn, here – red, gold and amber on all the trees, and I’ve been feeling a little bit panicky because the leaves seem to be coming off far too quickly this year. It’s unfortunate that my favourite season also happens to be the shortest one – at least the gorgeous part of it. I suppose it continues on for some time with bare, colourless trees and biting wind before winter officially arrives.
I guess I’m feeling guilty because I’ve got all these adorable fall sweaters for Oliver, colourful mittens and matching toque (which are actually too warm to wear by the afternoon) and warm trousers and overalls so that he can play cosily outside, but I never seem to have the time to take him.
Today, when I tried to put him in his pushchair to walk to Starbucks for a quick meeting, he flipped out. He wanted to walk, and not just to Starbucks – he wanted to go where he wanted to go, which was probably Wolsey Hill, a few hundred yards from our place, where he likes to cross the red bridge back and forth, crawl up (and down) the little mound of a hill and collect stones to leave outside the front door. Like most days, though, it wasn’t on our agenda. He had another freak out when we got home, after I caught him trying to escape down the driveway, toward the park, toward freedom, while I occupied myself unlocking the door.
I remember when days were like centuries and the colours of autumn were low on my list of passions. Funny how it’s become the reverse.
Oliver is only 16 ½ months old. We’re still defining our family style – our combined approach to living. I want it to include long afternoons of playing on the swings and the monkey bars, while I sit on a park bench with a hot drink and a book – or maybe a laptop, tapping out my own story. Or maybe baking things back at home, or doing crafts or having friends over to play. What it seems to consist of in reality is me on my computer on one side of the child “friendly” gate and Oliver on the other side, taking the contents of his toy basket and then his book shelf and tossing them over, one by one, the second child “friendly” gate and onto the stairs. It brings to mind a caged animal, in a pet store or zoo.
Perhaps one of these days Oliver will visit the Nilsen kids and live dangerously for awhile. In the meantime, I think I owe him a trip to Wolsey Hill tomorrow – while there are still a few leaves around to throw.
Monday, October 06, 2008
danger
I'm trying to decide.
A couple of weeks ago I had a conversation with one of my favourite Canadian personalities, Stuart McLean. Stuart is best known for a series of books he wrote, called The Vinyl Cafe, which he reads weekly on a CBC Radio show by the same name. The stories are about a couple named Dave and Morley, their family, friends and neighbours. The stories generally feature some sort of madcap folly (usually involving Dave) that ends with a sentimental twist that just brings everyone closer together.
I asked Stuart to tell me about something that's important to him right now. He told me, among other things, that something that's weighing heavy on him is the perception - enforced in the political campaigns on both sides of the border, in the media, and the movies - that the world is a dangerous place filled with enemies. It is not, he says, as bad as those with an agenda try to paint it. He uses the War on Terror as an example of breeding fear in people that we are surrounded by enemies. He cites also the movie No Country for Old Men, which teaches viewers not to stop and help someone broken down on the side of the road because that was one of the killer's ways of reeling in victims.
"We do better when we trust and act out of our best selves," he said. "There is goodness everywhere, and it behooves us to look for it."
I have read, in recent months, a number of articles on this same topic. There is a growing movement, it seems, of people who think children today are coddled far too much. Everything is made so safe for them (Chinese products not withstanding) that we're protecting the life out of them. Only the most "irresponsible" parents these days, it seems, will let their elementary aged kids walk to school unaccompanied. Even back when I was at Newbold, 15 years ago, I was hired to walk these two sisters to school several mornings a week. Play time is arranged for them in play dates, instead of ringing the neighbour's door to play, and everything is organized for them so they don't have to do any creative thinking at all.
When I hear stories about my mum's childhood, waking up early in the morning and heading out in the orchard to play until dinner time, unfettered and worry free, it makes me sorry that I had even the restrictions I had - which were nothing compared to kids today. What I'd really like is to be the kind of parent that doesn't put the fear of death in her child for talking to strangers, who will let him play without a constant eye of concern baring down on him.
But then I hear stories like the one I covered in a nearby town, of this 12-year-old girl who was kidnapped by a transient and aggressively assulted for about 36 hours before escaping. She had ridden her scooter a few blocks to return a video - Chicken Little, as I recall. More recently, a man who was with his 15-month-old in a playground had to chase down another man who tried to run off with him (a couple of weeks ago), and today I read about a seven-year-old girl who was kidnapped (but rescued within a few hours) right under her father's and brothers' watchful eyes - also in a playground. That was just a town or two away from where another girl, 15 (I think), was murdered, strangled in broad daylight, on a nature trail bordering a residential neighbourhood. And a guy I interviewed tonight was walking home one evening a few weeks ago and was randomly jumped on by two yahoos in a truck and had his jaw broken.
So maybe Stuart is right, and the majority of people are safe and just want to do the best for themselves and their families. Maybe most people are more likely to help than harm. But how do you know if you've got a majority or minority member?
I'm not thinking so much for myself, but for Oliver and other kids that can't so much protect themselves. How do you reconcile these two worlds? To present the world as a friendly place, to not be overprotective, but yet not let them become another statistic?
I, myself, don't have an answer (besides prayer!). I guess it's just something I wanted to get off my chest, and see what others had to say about it. What do you think?
A couple of weeks ago I had a conversation with one of my favourite Canadian personalities, Stuart McLean. Stuart is best known for a series of books he wrote, called The Vinyl Cafe, which he reads weekly on a CBC Radio show by the same name. The stories are about a couple named Dave and Morley, their family, friends and neighbours. The stories generally feature some sort of madcap folly (usually involving Dave) that ends with a sentimental twist that just brings everyone closer together.
I asked Stuart to tell me about something that's important to him right now. He told me, among other things, that something that's weighing heavy on him is the perception - enforced in the political campaigns on both sides of the border, in the media, and the movies - that the world is a dangerous place filled with enemies. It is not, he says, as bad as those with an agenda try to paint it. He uses the War on Terror as an example of breeding fear in people that we are surrounded by enemies. He cites also the movie No Country for Old Men, which teaches viewers not to stop and help someone broken down on the side of the road because that was one of the killer's ways of reeling in victims.
"We do better when we trust and act out of our best selves," he said. "There is goodness everywhere, and it behooves us to look for it."
I have read, in recent months, a number of articles on this same topic. There is a growing movement, it seems, of people who think children today are coddled far too much. Everything is made so safe for them (Chinese products not withstanding) that we're protecting the life out of them. Only the most "irresponsible" parents these days, it seems, will let their elementary aged kids walk to school unaccompanied. Even back when I was at Newbold, 15 years ago, I was hired to walk these two sisters to school several mornings a week. Play time is arranged for them in play dates, instead of ringing the neighbour's door to play, and everything is organized for them so they don't have to do any creative thinking at all.
When I hear stories about my mum's childhood, waking up early in the morning and heading out in the orchard to play until dinner time, unfettered and worry free, it makes me sorry that I had even the restrictions I had - which were nothing compared to kids today. What I'd really like is to be the kind of parent that doesn't put the fear of death in her child for talking to strangers, who will let him play without a constant eye of concern baring down on him.
But then I hear stories like the one I covered in a nearby town, of this 12-year-old girl who was kidnapped by a transient and aggressively assulted for about 36 hours before escaping. She had ridden her scooter a few blocks to return a video - Chicken Little, as I recall. More recently, a man who was with his 15-month-old in a playground had to chase down another man who tried to run off with him (a couple of weeks ago), and today I read about a seven-year-old girl who was kidnapped (but rescued within a few hours) right under her father's and brothers' watchful eyes - also in a playground. That was just a town or two away from where another girl, 15 (I think), was murdered, strangled in broad daylight, on a nature trail bordering a residential neighbourhood. And a guy I interviewed tonight was walking home one evening a few weeks ago and was randomly jumped on by two yahoos in a truck and had his jaw broken.
So maybe Stuart is right, and the majority of people are safe and just want to do the best for themselves and their families. Maybe most people are more likely to help than harm. But how do you know if you've got a majority or minority member?
I'm not thinking so much for myself, but for Oliver and other kids that can't so much protect themselves. How do you reconcile these two worlds? To present the world as a friendly place, to not be overprotective, but yet not let them become another statistic?
I, myself, don't have an answer (besides prayer!). I guess it's just something I wanted to get off my chest, and see what others had to say about it. What do you think?
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
photoshop
I've recently been learning how to Photoshop pictures. Kyle, bless his little heart, has been patiently teaching me ... repeatedly, since I forget everything I learned every time I get on, it seems! It's been fun, though, upping the quality of my pics with cool fx, and takes the creativity up to a whole other level.
Below is a photo I shot of my lovely niece, Avery, about two years ago, for an eVent Magazine cover about the environment. She was supposed to be an Ophelia-esque tragic heroine sort (a la Arthur Hughes), surrounded by environmental hazzards. Recently I reapproached the pic, just for practice. I felt like a magician removing the garbage from the pic before adding the finishing touches. Just wanted to share ...
Below is a photo I shot of my lovely niece, Avery, about two years ago, for an eVent Magazine cover about the environment. She was supposed to be an Ophelia-esque tragic heroine sort (a la Arthur Hughes), surrounded by environmental hazzards. Recently I reapproached the pic, just for practice. I felt like a magician removing the garbage from the pic before adding the finishing touches. Just wanted to share ...
Friday, August 29, 2008
end of summer
August isn't quite finished yet, but summer felt over about a week ago. Here is what I'm already missing:
Peaches so sweet and juicy they make your eyes roll back in your head when you take the first bite.
Evenings that are still warm - but not blistering, like earlier in the day - sitting out on our patio in our postage stamp yard.
Walks in the park, watching a potpourri of people - young, old, fat, skinny, red, yellow, black, white - parade by exchanging smiles and hellos.
Iced vanilla lattes.
Parks Alive! live music programs in the park.
Flowers - a mix of pansies and morning glories - peeking between the bars of our front balcony.
Wednesday mornings spent trawling the Farmers' Market for fresh fruit, veggies and bubble tea.
Crawling through the grass with Oliver looking for treasures such as acorns, pine cones and those helicopter seed pods.
Cool, breezy skirts.
Bocce.
Summer road trips like The Great Kootenay Adventure Kyle, Oliver and I just got back from - watch this space for report and pics.
Peaches so sweet and juicy they make your eyes roll back in your head when you take the first bite.
Evenings that are still warm - but not blistering, like earlier in the day - sitting out on our patio in our postage stamp yard.
Walks in the park, watching a potpourri of people - young, old, fat, skinny, red, yellow, black, white - parade by exchanging smiles and hellos.
Iced vanilla lattes.
Parks Alive! live music programs in the park.
Flowers - a mix of pansies and morning glories - peeking between the bars of our front balcony.
Wednesday mornings spent trawling the Farmers' Market for fresh fruit, veggies and bubble tea.
Crawling through the grass with Oliver looking for treasures such as acorns, pine cones and those helicopter seed pods.
Cool, breezy skirts.
Bocce.
Summer road trips like The Great Kootenay Adventure Kyle, Oliver and I just got back from - watch this space for report and pics.
Monday, August 04, 2008
teaching english
I've been teaching English this summer to three Korean boys, which has been a rather, er, interesting experience.
Each one is 10 years old and more interested in Nintendo and comic books than in learning English. Holding their attention is one of the hardest things I've had to do this summer.
Starting out, I actually planned to help vamp up their English skills, expand their vocabulary and work on their pronounciation. But I soon learned that if we were going to get through this gig, I would have to change my approach.
The entire two-hour session is now devoted to teaching them the English that's really useful in their world. Words like "villain," "body slam" and "supercalafrajalisticexpialadocious" have all made the vocab list.
Instead of journal entries, I have them writing comic book stories. I don't know how beneficial that is to them, but at least they're doing their homework. We've studied The Simpsons ("Don't have a cow, man!")and I've learned more than I ever wanted to about Super Mario, as well as several other characters and games that may or may not be exclusive to the Asian market.
They didn't quite catch on to knock knock jokes and I'm having a hard time with their giddy facination with the words "fart," "bum" and "underpants," but we're somehow muddling through. Don't know if they're getting their $30/hr worth - and sometimes I wonder if it's worth that price to go through this twice a week, but there it is.
What doesn't break us makes us stronger.
Each one is 10 years old and more interested in Nintendo and comic books than in learning English. Holding their attention is one of the hardest things I've had to do this summer.
Starting out, I actually planned to help vamp up their English skills, expand their vocabulary and work on their pronounciation. But I soon learned that if we were going to get through this gig, I would have to change my approach.
The entire two-hour session is now devoted to teaching them the English that's really useful in their world. Words like "villain," "body slam" and "supercalafrajalisticexpialadocious" have all made the vocab list.
Instead of journal entries, I have them writing comic book stories. I don't know how beneficial that is to them, but at least they're doing their homework. We've studied The Simpsons ("Don't have a cow, man!")and I've learned more than I ever wanted to about Super Mario, as well as several other characters and games that may or may not be exclusive to the Asian market.
They didn't quite catch on to knock knock jokes and I'm having a hard time with their giddy facination with the words "fart," "bum" and "underpants," but we're somehow muddling through. Don't know if they're getting their $30/hr worth - and sometimes I wonder if it's worth that price to go through this twice a week, but there it is.
What doesn't break us makes us stronger.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
caf jag
I have long boasted about how coffee has no effect on me whatsoever. How I can drink five cups and go straight to sleep, or, conversely, quit at the drop of a hat without experiencing any withdrawal at all.
But it seems that more than a year-and-a-half without my second favourite drink (yes, water is first) has changed that. Disconcertingly.
Last night, there was an outdoor concert in the park by my house, and Starbucks had a booth set up, with free coffees. Just little ones, mind you - micro talls? - but you could return as many times as you liked. Darcie and I had three cups (er, each). Only the first one was caffeinated, but WOW! By the time I got home I was feeling, well, a little bit excited.
When bedtime came, I drifted off to sleep fairly quickly, but then awoke about an hour later ready to do jumping jacks. I stayed awake for - I don't know - two hours?? - after that. Maybe more? My mind was spinning with suddenly pressing issues, like what will I put on my FB update in the morning? I also thought about my sadly neglected blog and how it's not what I originally hoped for it to be and how I need to start posting at least once a week - not just updates about Oliver but weird, trivial stuff, like this. Thoughts, ideas, experiences, stories.
Anyway, I suppose there's a lesson to be learned in there somewhere, probably something to do with moderation, but I'll probably do it again next time - although I'll try to do it earlier in the day.
But it seems that more than a year-and-a-half without my second favourite drink (yes, water is first) has changed that. Disconcertingly.
Last night, there was an outdoor concert in the park by my house, and Starbucks had a booth set up, with free coffees. Just little ones, mind you - micro talls? - but you could return as many times as you liked. Darcie and I had three cups (er, each). Only the first one was caffeinated, but WOW! By the time I got home I was feeling, well, a little bit excited.
When bedtime came, I drifted off to sleep fairly quickly, but then awoke about an hour later ready to do jumping jacks. I stayed awake for - I don't know - two hours?? - after that. Maybe more? My mind was spinning with suddenly pressing issues, like what will I put on my FB update in the morning? I also thought about my sadly neglected blog and how it's not what I originally hoped for it to be and how I need to start posting at least once a week - not just updates about Oliver but weird, trivial stuff, like this. Thoughts, ideas, experiences, stories.
Anyway, I suppose there's a lesson to be learned in there somewhere, probably something to do with moderation, but I'll probably do it again next time - although I'll try to do it earlier in the day.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
a life in pictures
It's too hot to write, but an update is definitely in order. Therefore, with minimal narration, I will play catch-up by posting some pictures - a tonne, at least - of what we've been up to recently. So sit down with a cup of something cold and peruse away.
7 May, 2008
This was taken back in the beginning of May. The blocks were a Christmas gift from Amanda and Peter and I took the pics to demonstrate his love for them. He's stopped doing this now, but at the time he would use them as sort of stilettos for his hands whilst crawling. It gave him a sort of ape-ish look.
19 May, 2008
Oliver attended his first parade later in May - the Rutland May Days parade. It was a bit rubbish from an adult point of view, but lots of amazing things to see for an almost-one-year-old.
This float was hilarious (not intentionally though). It was a bunch of "music students" from this music store in town, dressed up as KISS but singing, bizarrely, Bryan Adams, "Summer of 69."
Oliver's favourite part of the parade
Later that day we thought we'd see how Mr. Oliver would look as a brunette. We like him better blond.
28 May, 2008
Oliver turned one on 28 May and celebrated with a small party in the park, attended by his nearest and dearest. A few shots from the big day . . .
The birthday cake, decorated by Oliver's grandma
The birthday cake, apparently, was fun to play in, but not as fun to eat (although everyone else disagreed)
Four generations, on both sides of Oliver's family, attended the party, which we thought was a pretty cool photo-op
One of my favourite shots of the day
After celebrating the big day on the day, Oliver's Sabbath School had a special birthday celebration for him. Here he's putting one duck in the water to mark one years old
15 June, 2008
We celebrated Kyle's and Oliver's second Father's Day with a photo shoot down by the beach. Here are some of my favourite shots...
20 June, 2008
Some almost 13-month portrait shots of Oliver
21 June, 2008
The Kelowna Art Gallery, where Kyle works, has an exhibition of Pop Art going on right now. In celebration of the exhibit, they also threw a "Factory Party," themed after Andy Warhol's infamous Silver Factory where a lot of, um, interesting things went on. The KAG event was a much more toned down affair, but we still doned our best '60s look for the occasion. Some scenes from the fete...
25 June, 2008
A visit to the playground...
Sliding with Grandma
28 June, 2008
Yesterday Oliver and I went to a bird sanctuary by the lake. Before heading in to shoot some wildlife (with a camera, of course), we had a fun play in the sand...
Entering the sanctuary
I spy a duck
And another duck
A quail in a tree, spying me
The entire walkway is raised up like this - it's a beautiful stroll, and very photogenic
29 June, 2008
And finally, today. Oliver innitiated his turtle swimming pool that he got for a birthday present from Auntie and crew. It took awhile but he said it was worth the wait (or words to that effect). I wasn't sure who was more excited about it, though - the boy or his dad!
7 May, 2008
This was taken back in the beginning of May. The blocks were a Christmas gift from Amanda and Peter and I took the pics to demonstrate his love for them. He's stopped doing this now, but at the time he would use them as sort of stilettos for his hands whilst crawling. It gave him a sort of ape-ish look.
19 May, 2008
Oliver attended his first parade later in May - the Rutland May Days parade. It was a bit rubbish from an adult point of view, but lots of amazing things to see for an almost-one-year-old.
This float was hilarious (not intentionally though). It was a bunch of "music students" from this music store in town, dressed up as KISS but singing, bizarrely, Bryan Adams, "Summer of 69."
Oliver's favourite part of the parade
Later that day we thought we'd see how Mr. Oliver would look as a brunette. We like him better blond.
28 May, 2008
Oliver turned one on 28 May and celebrated with a small party in the park, attended by his nearest and dearest. A few shots from the big day . . .
The birthday cake, decorated by Oliver's grandma
The birthday cake, apparently, was fun to play in, but not as fun to eat (although everyone else disagreed)
Four generations, on both sides of Oliver's family, attended the party, which we thought was a pretty cool photo-op
One of my favourite shots of the day
After celebrating the big day on the day, Oliver's Sabbath School had a special birthday celebration for him. Here he's putting one duck in the water to mark one years old
15 June, 2008
We celebrated Kyle's and Oliver's second Father's Day with a photo shoot down by the beach. Here are some of my favourite shots...
20 June, 2008
Some almost 13-month portrait shots of Oliver
21 June, 2008
The Kelowna Art Gallery, where Kyle works, has an exhibition of Pop Art going on right now. In celebration of the exhibit, they also threw a "Factory Party," themed after Andy Warhol's infamous Silver Factory where a lot of, um, interesting things went on. The KAG event was a much more toned down affair, but we still doned our best '60s look for the occasion. Some scenes from the fete...
25 June, 2008
A visit to the playground...
Sliding with Grandma
28 June, 2008
Yesterday Oliver and I went to a bird sanctuary by the lake. Before heading in to shoot some wildlife (with a camera, of course), we had a fun play in the sand...
Entering the sanctuary
I spy a duck
And another duck
A quail in a tree, spying me
The entire walkway is raised up like this - it's a beautiful stroll, and very photogenic
29 June, 2008
And finally, today. Oliver innitiated his turtle swimming pool that he got for a birthday present from Auntie and crew. It took awhile but he said it was worth the wait (or words to that effect). I wasn't sure who was more excited about it, though - the boy or his dad!
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