Then another twinkle.
I opened my mouth and simultaneously suppressed the urge to dash down the hall to get Ivy.
She is not here.
Impending old age is what it is.
This is the first time in 14 years that I didn't share the first firefly moment with Ivy. It made me a little sad. A little uneasy too. How many more of these moments will I have like this?
Don't get me wrong, I am all about the three of them (the wee folk) being self dependant. Go out there and do your thing but being a mom has given me a steady occupation. We have not been apart for more than a weekend! It is like having your hair up and decide to leave you and go on vacation. You have never been apart since it grew on you and it will come back, be messy and a pain in the arse but if you find yourself suddenly without it, you get startled.
Oh God, Pepper leaves for camp in two weeks...
I sent my camera to Québec with Ivy. She came home with 174 pictures! Three of which I thought were worthy of my blogness:
This was as close to something wool related she could find. I forget his name but he looks pissed off. Or maybe its the dude in red that got his goat?
I have a thing for Les Misérables. Love it. I was totally thrilled that Ivy took this picture of Cossette for me!
This third picture is funny. An Ivy plant growing out of a cool planter. Awesome. Where can I get me one of these?
I have been knitting but my camera was on vacation. I have no proof. On Wednesday, I attended my sons concert and knit through the whole shebang.
He is a pretty good singer! He didn't appreciate me knitting though. I guess in his mind, it was the wrong place for knitting. What does he know? A mother sitting near us leaned over and with a big grin informed me that my son wanted me to stop knitting. I thought it was a dig so I smiled back and clicked on. La résistance!
School work has been steady going. I am determined to get this. I have to my dismay come to the cruel realization that the world is indeed a f* up place. You cannot get away with thinking in English and writing in French. They are two completely difference worlds. I have to think like a french person which is next to impossible when I live in the Outaouais region. When I speak french to a Québecois for practice, they have the annoying habit of answering me in french using english terms. And boy do I HATE that. It is not fair. There are some french folks that I need a Larousse in my purse to understand which doesn't help at this point but at least I learn something. I love languages. I would learn them all if I had the neurones. I actually enjoy the beauty of being good at something difficult. I gave natural birth three time with no meds. I can do ANYTHING. Nobody said it was easy. No pain no gain. Move on.
I can't believe this is happening but there is such a thing as English punctuation, French punctuation and Québec punctuation. Leaves me with the desire to punctuate them all...
Then I find out that I have to be super careful about what reference material I consult in an attempt to get it all sorted out. You see, this side of the atlantic has its particular French hangups and then there is Europeen French hangups not to be confused with our own.... Bloody hell.
Then to make matters worse, I am taking a course about psychology. Really cool stuff, however, I am often tempted to remove my brain (because now I know all its parts) and bury it in the garden. I wonder what would grow from it? I am thinking Mr. Cosbys Jello tree.