Category Archives: Books

Cue the Carols

To quote t!: “I’m… dreaming… of a white… Victoria Day Weekend…”

This post-Easter snowstorm made my commute home absolute misery, starting with the hour and ten minutes I stood outside waiting for a lift that only arrived (of course) after I resorted to public transit. While I was cold and wet and miserable, the worst thing was not knowing where HRH and Liam were and if they were okay. Both parties got home within five minutes of one another, and Liam was surprisingly not insane from being cooped up for two and a half hours in the car. He even ate some dinner before bed. HRH was mildly spare, however, and I was completely unhinged of course, imagining horrible things. This weekend, I am buying HRH a cellular phone.

Work proceeds apace. True to Meallanmouse‘s prediction today, I was asked how much longer I thought the project would take me should my contract be extended. As I’ve already been separately spoken to by the two heads who hired me about the near certainty of said extension, we shall see what happens tomorrow. Apparently it would be all right if I worked at home two days a week, which makes life much easier because HRH is working out on the West Island Mondays and Tuesdays, and needs to be on-site by the time Liam’s caregiver opens shop, as well as requiring the car to get there (otherwise it’s something like a two-hour commute). This way I can drop HRH off, then Liam, come home and work, then pick them up. If I had to go in to work on-site I’d lose an hour and a half of work time, assuming I took the car. Working at home on those two days is simply more efficient.

I learn at least one new word a day on this project. And it turns out I have been misusing “pursuant” all these years.

On today’s lunch adventure, Mellanmouse introduced me to the best fries I’ve had since the Frite Pit changed ownership over twenty years ago. Yesterday, it was an awesome Greek pita in the company of HRH and Fearsclave. Who knows what tomorrow will be?

I read A Long Shadow earlier this week, and am now over halfway through Princesses: The Six Daughters of George III (astute and obsessive readers may remember this as one of the topics that popped into my brain last fall and began scratching at the windows, whining for attention, pining to be a YA historical).

There is more; I keep a scratch pad with ideas that occur to me as the day goes along, but I’m really tired and still cold from the damp, no matter how many socks and sweaters I put on. To bed.

Twenty-Two Months Old!

Among the new words this month are shadow, flying, dancing, bump, egg, bacon, animals, bike, tools, tunnel, the end, fire, storm, lightning, tools, bike, knock-knock, crane, draw. HRH got him to call Thomas ‘Tom’ instead of ‘Ati’ the other day. It hasn’t stuck yet, though. ‘Noddles’ have now properly become ‘noodles’. Numbers are really sinking in as a concept, although sequence hasn’t. When we ask him to count the wheels on a toy, he touches each of them in turn saying, “Wheel, wheel, wheel, wheel.” If we begin counting with “One”, he’ll often say “Two”, but then the next number is usually nine. Yesterday after I had put him to bed I heard him counting: “Two, two, two, two, two…”.

He’s really passionate about drawing (which, like his love for books, comes as no surprise, I’m sure). He has a thick little copybook in which he draws with his markers, and I love that we’ll be able to keep this book and look back at it. It has a photo of Sesame Street characters on the front, so when he wants to draw he runs to the shelf and says, “Ernie, Ernie, Ernie.” These days he’s very excited about trees: he draws them on his own, and asks HRH and I to draw tree outlines for him to colour in. Naming the colours is coming along too. Cool colours tend to default to ‘green’, though, and warm colours default to ‘yellow’, although just to keep things fresh he throws ‘purple’ and ‘blue’ and ‘brown’ in at random times. We tried to bring the crayons out again, but with his need to gnaw on things to ease the pressure of his molars it was still a no-go. That’s fine; the markers are great, so long as he doesn’t bite the thick tips off, and he likes taking breaks every ten minutes or so to wash his hands clean of the ink.

He can voluntarily point out and correctly name the letter B. Why that letter and not another, we do not know.

Last week on a sunny day Liam discovered shadows. He now chases his own shadow, and moves his arms and head so that he can see his shadow copy the motion. This is hilarious to him, and entertainment for us as well, I must admit.

The fact that we have multiple friends called Marc/Mark makes him very suspicious.

His current book obsession is the collection of the first three Mog the Forgetful Cat stories I have. He is also very fond of Moonbeam on a Cat’s Ear by Marie-Louise Gay. My copy is signed so I try to be careful with it, but in the end, it’s a children’s book, with all that implies. After reading a story a couple of times in a row he’ll often take my index finger and touch it to various items on the page, waiting for me to identify them. I love how he devours books so completely. He also likes to read a lovely little book called I Love You Sun, I Love You Moon: We say, “I love you…” and he fills in whatever the child on the page is looking at. “Sun! Moon! Wolf! Water! Bird! Tree!” He’s working on saying “I love you” instead of just “love”, too, but at the moment it’s more exciting to say the name of whatever is in the picture.

This month also saw the longest sentence he’s said so far: “No Dada, please down.” Remarkably coherent and cogent, particularly since it was said through a flood of tears and great distress at being buckled back into the carseat.

The snow vanished rather quickly (thank goodness), and we have rediscovered how good Liam is on his feet. Last fall we weren’t comfortable with letting him run around in the driveway or sidewalk, but now suddenly he’s a little boy walking along while holding our hands, or climbing the front stairs on his own, or pushing the stroller with us. HRH likes to take him out into the backyard and let him run around like a mad thing. (Thank goodness for the backyard.)

He gallops through the house chanting his name over and over, throwing “Me!” into the mix every now and again. When he looks in the mirror after a bath he says, “Me! Liam!” and sounds very satisfied about it. And he’s already developing an amusing method of deflection. “Liam, are you dong [insert questionable activity in which he’s not supposed to engage here, such as climbing on the couch or touching the earth in the plants]?” we’ll say. “No,” he’ll say casually, and turn to look at a cat.

His current favourite toys are the MegaBloks. He loves to make towers and “nunnels” for his cars and trains to drive through. He’s remarkably good at stacking them, and at choosing colours and sizes. On top of a structure the other day he built a stack of single unit blocks about five high, and put a two-unit block on the top. He looked at HRH and said, “Flag.” “Uh, yes,” said HRH, and freaked out quietly as Liam turned to do something else.

Peanut butter has been introduced to Liam’s diet. It’s very okay. Not I-won’t-eat-anything-else brilliant, but acceptable.

When he was fractious last week we sat him down to watch the beginning of the first Harry Potter film to take his mind off his teeth, and while the owls were interesting and the Hogwarts Express was thrilling, they were nowhere near as exciting as Madam Hooch’s class. “Broom!” he said, very excited. “Yes,” we said, “brooms.” And he ran off to get his little broom, brought it back into the living room, and went right up to the television and held it up across the screen. “Broom! Up!” he said, very pleased. And then his eyes nearly fell out of his head when those broomsticks flew. “Broom! Fly! Sky!” he said, racing back to me on the chesterfield, turning to lean his back against me and breathlessly take it all in. We caught him trying to walk with his broom between his legs later. The only show he watches with regularity now is Zoboomafoo, which he loves. (The TV is now turned off after Zoboo and before Thomas because of the new morning schedule, which is just fine with me as I have seen enough of the island of Sodor to last me a good long time.)

We took him out to see the Easter farm at the mall last weekend. He was very squirmy, partially because of all the people, partially because of his teeth, partially because he wants to walk everywhere now. He saw donkeys, and all sorts of fancy chickens, rabbits, rambunctious piglets, ducklings, and goats. In the goat pen there were two relatively newborn kids curled up together in the shelter of a set of steps, and I pointed them out to Liam, telling him that they were babies and they were sleeping. “Goats! Night-night goats!” he said while waving, then insisted that we back away and leave the animals so that they could sleep in peace. I’m sure the goats appreciated the thought, as the act itself was lost in the sea of people and associated people-noises.

Originally, we were supposed to travel to Oakville for the holiday weekend, but with my full-time two-week contract and only one day off for the holiday, it wasn’t going to happen: a day of travel, one day there, and another day of travel home is a recipe for family-wide disaster. So that trip has been postponed to later in the month, post-contract, and we spent Easter Sunday with the locals instead. Liam was thoroughly gifted there with clothes, little books, a stuffed turtle and a small Lightning McQueen toy that he hasn’t let go of except in sleep. And when he ran into his bedroom there, he found what he delightedly called “a bike!“, a plastic three-wheeled ride-on toy with a trailer attached. Once he’d figured out how to drive it by pushing it along with his feet and steering, he gave his toys rides for the rest of the day.

I miss him while I’m working on this contract. And yet, it gives me the opportunity to see him in a completely different light now that I’m away from him all day, and come home in time to share dinner with him and the evening ritual of bath, pyjamas, and snuggling with books before bedtime. It reinforces how much of a little boy he is, how well he uses language to communicate what he’s done all day, what a cheerful nature he has, and how much I love his personality.

Scattershot

Thought I’d kicked the cold; then the really bad dry throat thing kicked in yesterday afternoon, triggering really bad coughing fits complete with tears streaming from the eyes. HRH had to import the humidifer from Liam’s room into our bedroom so that I could sleep last night. Also no fun were the sharp, incredibly painful foot cramps that attacked after I stepped onto the cold bathroom tiles on my way to bed. So, I’m still sick. Also, it is winter again, and I would like these two things to be over and done with, thank you.

Still enjoying work in an intellectual/practical challenge sort of way. More with the tearing of the hair and exasperated gestures and sighs, though, as I encounter words that I expect to be nouns and that are defined as verbs, such as ‘paint’. That’s all right; I fit right in with the gesticulation and random oaths uttered by programmers and coders around me.

Thanks to public transport this week, I have read Conspiracy by Grace, Lady Cavendish; Melusine by Sarah Monette; and The Rest Falls Away by Colleen Gleason in their entirety.

t! has been sharing excellent music with me lately. I’m currently enjoying some Lee Rocker and Brian Setzer Orchestra live recordings. Rockabilly and swing revival are seeing me through.

All right; time to pack the Thermos of tea and finish getting ready to go.

What I Read This March

Morrigan’s Cross by Nora Roberts
Jellybean by Tessa Duder (reread)
Murder Must Advertise by Dorothy Sayers
Snow White Rose Red by Patricia C Wrede (reread)
Mia Tells It Like It Is by Meg Cabot
Magic Lessons by Justine Larbalestier
Dance of the Gods by Nora Roberts
Firebirds ed. Sharyn November
Swan Sister ed. Terri Windling & Ellen Datlow
Magic or Madness by Justine Larbalestier
The Jane Austen Tarot by Diane Wilkes

Double Take

The new covers for the seventh and final Harry Potter book have been released.

Throughout the entire series, I have been glad that my country sells the UK-based designs, because I prefer them.

Until now.

I am stunned to see that I actually prefer the US cover to this book. I may buy the adult cover of the UK edition instead of the junior cover, despite my obsessive need to have matching sets on my shelves. None of the covers, US or UK, really interest me this time around. Not that the series cover art has ever been anything to hang on a wall, but this time it all seems particularly bland.

Spring!

Today is the first full day of spring. We saw it in last night with one of the best spring equinox rituals in which I’ve ever had the pleasure to participate. (Yes, it even beat the Slinky rit four springs ago.) We had a great cross-section of people present, and the insightful focal exercise was fabulously designed and executed.

It is also JS Bach’s birthday. Happy birthday, JS!

And what better way to celebrate both the birth of JS and the first day of spring than by buying a replica sword based on the weapons of A Song of Ice and Fire?

Look, Shiny!

Yes, of course, what I really need right now is a shiny new story idea eating my brain, complete with a set of new research to be done and books to be bought, to distract me from finishing The Moments of Being Pandora.*

*headdesk*

On the other hand, I played some very pretty cello for half an hour this afternoon, firmly muted so no one could hear me.

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* Actually, what’s eating my brain right now is whether I ought to write it in first-person or third-person, and if the latter, then omniscient or limited?