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I Should Really Start Drinking (But I Keep Forgetting)

A while back, Jeff gave an interview to the university newspaper about our immigration predicament. A week or so later a local news guy showed up at his office asking to do a story and to interview all of us on TV. Jeff said yes to the first and told the news guy he'd have to ask me about the second part. (I suspect Jeff knew how I'd react, which was to laugh heartily and then say…"Um, no way.") 

So Jeff did the interview alone. Parts of it aired in two different segments. My favorite was this one, in which the news guy corners the premiere of the province (Americans, think: governor) to ask her about the situation, of which she had absolutely no knowledge and why would she??

There was also this news story, which originally ran in the local paper and was eventually picked up by newspapers throughout Canada. I really enjoyed reading the comments, because I comment a lot on news stories I read, and it was fascinating to be on the other side of it. I got to witness first hand the ridiculousness of the way the commenters would pick up on one random detail of the story and just run with it. Occasionally I saw a comment I wanted to respond to, either because the commenter got the basic facts grossly wrong or because the commenter asked a general or theoretical question that I could have answered. But I figured it would be a little weird, so I let it go.

My fifteen minutes having come and gone, I can breathe a sigh of relief and move on.

We're basically doing okay. Stressed? Yes. Waiting for some sunny warm freaking weather? You betcha. Missing Lisa and wishing for impossible things? Of course. Dreading the big move yet being excited about the possibilities? Oh hell yes. 

Check out the blossoming trees behind Maria in this picture:

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 Maria continues to keep growing despite subsisting on a mostly crayon based diet. I'm thinking of writing to Crayola and suggesting that they post nutritional information on the sides of their boxes.

She's not throwing herself down slides with abandon since The Incident. Nothing really happened, except that she was wearing extra slippery rain pants while going down a particularly fast slide, and thus learned that in the end, every single one of us is gravity's bitch. There were no physical injuries, but I think the psychic scars will be there for a while.

And here is Kurt against a blue sky:

Photo (40)

He's experimenting with modifiers, but he's just a beginner, so he uses the word big in an all purpose sense. For instance, while watching the divers practice at the pool he might exclaim, "That's a big diver!" when what he really means is "My, that diver's form was especially impressive, no?" Likewise he might say "That's a big swing!" when clearly he is trying to say something like, "Mommy, did you note both my height and speed just now when I swinging?" Or maybe just "Swinging is awesome." Admittedly it's a hard call. He's trying to say something, and that's what's important.

The day we got home from the family reunion, we found out that Jeff's grandmother Louise died. She was a lovely lady who lived a long life and deserves more than a brief mention at the end of this blog post. And I'm sorry I only got know her in these last years of her life, but I'm glad I got to know her.

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3 thoughts on “I Should Really Start Drinking (But I Keep Forgetting)”

  1. I am sorry for the loss of Jeffs grandmother, they have a special place in our lives truly.
    The kids are sure photogenic..I keep telling Lisa in my mind that this April fools joke is over, come back home but I know home will be in heaven and hopefully will all be there someday.

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  2. Jayne,
    I started reading the comments below the article you linked and felt my blood boiling under my skin. It’s probably a good thing that the comments were closed. I was going to give some of those people a serious piece of my mind.
    Keep on truckin’! Virginia is going to be awesome! Canada will miss you..

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  3. At least Virginia has sun, no? I decided on the plane to CA that I need to start drinking; having a 5 year old narrate our landing (‘look mom, we’re going closer to the ground! We’re going to hit the ground!’) made this nervous traveler even less composed than usual. I thought of you.

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