Lunar New Year - Year of the Sheep!

I'm playing catch up as we end our second week of spring break on this very rainy first day of spring. I've learned that new years begin all throughout the year around here and it's kind of nice to think that despite what the annual calendar says there's a beginning to celebrate on an almost monthly basis. Today, in fact, is the observance of the Persian New Year - based on the solar calendar. I learned of this celebration for the first time this year as Lydia's playdate is leaving early to celebrate with her mom. I'll have to look into more festivities around this date next year as we missed the fire celebrations at Ambleside Park this past week. Alas - we made it out to the Lunar New Year festivities in February - commonly known as Chinese New Year - and they were a sight to behold. We walked down the weekend prior to the parade and took in the Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Chinese Gardens - the gardens are a lovely little oasis in the city and you feel transported to a different time and place when you enter. The kids were given a scavenger hunt of pictures/displays to find as we meandered through the space and we all got into it. We sipped green tea and practiced creating Chinese characters on Buddha boards in the Hall of One Hundred Rivers. We spotted huge koi fish in the pond and found a little sheep in there as well denoting the year into which we would soon be entering. Just outside the paid gardens is a public Chinese garden space with a lovely little gazebo, bamboo garden and a super fun gift shop - to which we've returned no less that 3 times in as many weeks because the kids are enamored with the Chinese zodiac, beautiful textiles, Tibetan jewelry and Chinese paintings on rice paper and silk.

Millennium Gate Entering Chinatown

Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Chinese Gardens - http://vancouverchinesegarden.com/ 

Practicing writing Chinese characters on Buddha Boards

Bamboo Forest Adventures

February 22nd marked the culmination of celebrations with the Lunar New Year parade - we walked back down to Chinatown and we were given countless traditional red envelopes filled with gold chocolate coins. We marveled at the red lanterns decorating businesses and streets and the dragons that seemed to serve as watchdogs for all who came to celebrate. The parade was a sensory experience with new sights, smells, sounds. Our constitutions were tested while walking through open-aired markets selling dried shrimp, fish, mushrooms, etc. The smells were earthy and overwhelming but were somehow an integral part of the whole experience. The firecrackers popping repeatedly off the back of pickup trucks ushered in dancers, cymbals, dragons and, believe it or not, bagpipes. The crowds were dense and sightlines tricky. We watched the Mandarin newscasters narrate the parade as groups walked past their set, we received more red envelopes, we lost count of the various depictions of sheep we saw and the numbers of dancing dragons in their shiny costumes and vast amounts of red dappling the streets. It was a party for the senses! And a beautiful, albeit cold, day for it. Had we stood for the entire parade, we think it would have lasted about 2.5 - 3 hours. We saw the whole parade, but did so while walking the parade route as tummies were getting rumbly and there's a history in our house of hunger producing bears that have striking resemblances to our children.

Year of the Sheep! Parade time...

There were literally hundreds of dragons - all unique and beautiful and ornate.

We grabbed a quick bite to eat and headed for the lawn of the art gallery where Lydia made a mobile celebrating the Year of the Sheep's arrival and we marveled at the numbers of miniature sheep dotting the lawn. They were even available for purchase. The kids got to make their own dumplings - practicing rolling out the dough and sealing them properly. We made tissue paper snowflakes and Lydia practiced origami. It was a lovely day - we learned together, played together and laughed together. And as the pig, rooster, rat and dragon in this family we wish everyone a Happy Year of the Sheep! Gung Hay Fat Choy! [Best wishes and Congratulations. Have a prosperous and good year.]

These decorated sheep were part of a competition - there were about 30+ that all had different themes. These two were Lydia's favorites.

Making dumplings

Sheep on the gallery lawn

Family Day 2015 - what a difference a year makes...

Having just re-read my Family Day post from last year I must admit that I sure am glad I'm writing this stuff down.  It's amazing how much my mind deletes in a mere 365 days and it's amazing how much living gets packed into those very same days.  Alas - we're here again - yesterday was BC's Family Day and we had a great, albeit very different, day together.  It started slowly with breakfast and then we went down to our new fitness room to put the new equipment to use!  Let it be known that I felt pretty proud of this little chunk of our day - both kids are now old enough to enjoy the spin bike, rowing machine and treadmill and we can do this together!  It's out of the ordinary for us to do 'family workouts' other than walking the city but in keeping with the family theme of the day we pulled it off.  We came back up to the suite and ushered Philip off to work despite it being a holiday - duty called - and we looked up instructions for making a t-shirt quilt.  This was intended to be a fun bonding family experience and an exciting follow up to the massive purge of clothes and toys we had done on Saturday.  Lydia is a budding seamstress and was excited about the opportunity to use our new sewing machine and each of the kids had sorted through t-shirts and chosen a stash for their quilts.  Once we'd wrapped our heads around the project and made a supply list, we were off for lunch with Philip at Subway (a kid favorite in keeping with our earlier fitness focus at our family workout).  It was raining, naturally, but that didn't stop us.  We enjoyed lunch and went to the Adidas store and the American Girl store while Philip headed back to the office. 

It was a good walk - and the rain wasn't too hard - we even put away our umbrellas for a bit and just endured the mist [except for Henry...I left his umbrella in a restaurant last week when, after paying our bill, the fire alarm sounded and we had to evacuate...but that's another story].  Henry found a pair of socks he'd been dreaming of and bought them with birthday money and I surprised him by buying a second pair for him.  We were happy and our version of Beaver Cleaver life was playing out nicely.  On the way home we stopped at the American Girl store and I got to surprise Lydia by offering her the same budget as I'd allowed for Henry so she could pick out a treasure.  And, as it doesn't often happen, she found something within her budget that required no begging, crying or gnashing of teeth.  It was a great day!  The rain started falling more steadily and we headed home where the kids played Legos and work on the quilts began.

Detour: I began cutting Lydia's t-shirts for the quilt and was making the final snip on the second shirt only to look up at her big blue eyes in time to see them flood with tears and sobbing ensue.  Apparently, he tshirts have far too memories in them to be diced into square under which you can keep cozy.  And they went back into a bag with the promise of waiting to cut anymore until she could see how her brother's quilt turned out first.  It was a full-on meltdown.  About tshirts.  And if I hadn't felt so badly that she was so upset it would have been hard to suppress my laughter about it.  Not to worry, I moved on to cutting out Henry's shirts and then pulled out my secret weapon to salvage the day: I turned on Different Strokes while I began our luxurious, Family Day Dinner.

As a Southerner, it's inborn for me to put love into the food I prepare.  This, coupled with the fact that I enjoy trying different foods and enjoy cooking and think I'm pretty OK about it makes creating special meals fun and expressive for me.  I was excited about being home to cook and earlier in the day the kids were keen on helping...reruns of Arnold and Willis diminished their eagerness to help but I was unscathed.  I got to work - first on the eggless 'Wacky Cake' cupcakes - that were meant to be shared with our kind neighbors who alerted us to a dying car battery last weekend.  They've come to function as family despite no blood relation and we owe them thanks for that - Family Day seemed an appropriate time to do so.  While those baked, I got to work on homemade Naan.  We love Naan and I was going to carry on our family day of fitness with a sumptuous, healthy dinner.  The plan was to top the Naan with spinach, tomatoes and olives tossed in a light olive oil and lemon juice dressing as our entrée.  However, it was 4:45PM and while I knew the Naan dough had to rest for a bit, I had not read the part in the recipe that said it needed to rest for TWO HOURS - 6:45 is well past our dinner time.  This was the first indication my sumptuous dinner was not going to plan. Onward I forged, however.  Wacky Cakes came out of the oven, the dough was covered in a damp cloth and put in a warm place to hang out for a bit and while I pondered how to rescue this rapidly sinking ship, I got to work on our homemade Kale Chips - which turned out to be yummy.  The initial intent was that these would be snacks for lunchboxes this week but as my dough rested I switched gears and dubbed the Kale Chips appetizers and got some orzo on to boil.  The side intended for our leafy green entrée was an orzo, pesto, olive, sundried tomato salad.  It's a lovely dish and the kids like to gobble it up - I learned the last time I made it that the recipe calls for far too much pesto (based on the level of salinity in the dish that had us mainlining water for hours after eating it).  I altered the recipe so it would be 'just so' and had it put together in no time.

What I was going for was traditional Naan - here's the recipe to prove it.

 

The yummy 'all dressed' Kale Chips

 

The lovely orzo salad

 

Things were literally cooking in my kitchen but I had no entrée for my yummy celebration dinner - and I knew that my hungry brood would not be satisfied with roasted kale and pasta salad for dinner.  And then it occurred to me with a sinking feeling - nothing would make them happier than to eat the frozen pizza in our freezer.  Foodie fail.  To make myself feel better, I did doctor up that four cheese square of frozen preservatives with some Italian seasoning and garlic powder and while my intent of a healthy, homemade Family Day Dinner went completely off the rails and only one kid gave a hoot about my Kale Chips, they sat down to dinner and each kid excitedly said, "Yuuummm - frozen pizza!"  And we ate, and we laughed, and I had a side of humble pie followed by a rousing game of Monopoly around our little coffee table.  Family Day had been just that - and my foodie fail got chalked up as a mama win.  As for the Naan - it's probably best that it had to rest for those two hours.  It came out of the oven around 7:30PM - a cross between a biscuit and a pancake without the texture of regular Naan at all.  Nonetheless, the kids asked for it with breakfast this morning and I learned it's better just to buy it from the Indian restaurant across the street than to try to pull it off homemade.  Turns out, it's cheaper and takes a lot less time.  Happy Family Day.

And the hit of the night - our SQUARE frozen pizza...

 

 

Bring on the Thunder!

Lots of folks think we spend the year bundled up in scarves and mittens living here, but the truth is, it's pretty temperate - we haven't even gotten snow this winter.  Sadly, neither has the place that's our default ski hill so we've braved the grey, wet days rarely needing a heavy coat for any purpose other than to stay dry.  South Carolina has been colder [albeit about as wet, from what I understand] than our little corner of the world.

As a child, thunder was intimidating - especially in South Carolina.  In the South we get thunderstorms that bring with them bone rattling, earth shaking thunder complete with jagged lightening strikes and an occasional tornado warning. There have been times we've crammed into interior bathrooms or closets because of harsh weather and one of my college apartment complexes got hit by a tornado that was ushered in with thunder, lightening and hail. [Side note: I wasn't home when that happened...I was at a mall buying shoes riding out the tornado warning...it was eerie to return to complete darkness only lit by fire trucks and ambulances.] Thunder was scary sometimes and there were times I dreaded forecasts that included storms.

Here I sit, though, in Vancouver, British Columbia - no stranger to rain - not at all.  We get lots of rain here - just rain.  And it's a misty rain typically, just enough to warrant an umbrella and make the day seem to move slower - not the blinding gully washers of SC.  But today - ah today - there are THUNDERSTORMS in the forecast and I'm excited!  I haven't heard thunder in 18 months!  I didn't even know I missed thunder until I saw the forecast and my heart jumped a little in anticipation. So here's to you, thunder! I hope you stop to say 'hi' for a bit and conjure a little piece of our southern experience on this opposite side of the country.

Toggling Between Homes

Note: This post was composed while travelling from SC to Vancouver - however, I wrote it longhand since I hadn't taken a computer with me and am just now getting around to posting.

This week while in SC & NC alone (the kids and Philip stayed in Vancouver), I uttered aloud for the first time the phrase, "I'm almost 40."  I certainly have thought it before but this was the first time I'd heard the words and internalized their meaning.  It was also the beginning of several realizations that goaded me to pause and ponder in a new way.  I'm OK with turning 40 - there's no dread, no feeling of surpassing my peak or heading for decline.  However, coupled with Philip's question of what I dream for 2015 and the fact that we're quickly approaching the celebration of our son's first decade, the words fascinated me.  That 40 milestone that seemed a vague future possibility is upon me and it feels far less dramatic an achievement than it did in my 20s.  Instead, I think it will be much more of an evolutionary celebration - celebration of giving and receiving love for many a year; of seeing our children slowly (but somehow lightening fast) morph into lovely young people; celebration of memories that the more permanent lines on my face represent.  It's a kind of awakening.

Ringing in 2015 with Montreat's College Conference Planning Team

I don't know at all know what this means at the moment, I'm choosing to trust the path will make itself clear somewhere along the process.  I've been away from my husband and children for 8 days and currently find myself on a very noisy turbo-prop plane journeying toward them.  It's a contemplative time for me - uninterrupted by the vibratory sounds of the propellers.  I'm headed home and simultaneously feel pangs of sadness because I'm leaving home.  I hugged my sister and parents goodbye before boarding and that was sad - but for the first time included only a lump in my throat and no tears as the sting of goodbye was tempered by anticipation of getting my arms around my husband and children.  I laughed when I used the plane's washroom as it seemed to echo my sentiment - it too toggling between past and present with its ashtray on a non-smoking flight.

I've been in my "growing up homes" these eight days - places I go for rest, challenge and permission to ponder outside of myself and it's been restorative in spite of sleep deprivation.  I've remembered how many people and relationships are home to me and its this new home I'm journeying toward despite the fact that Vancouver knows little of my back story.  The beauty is that it's being woven into my almost forty story.

My sweet nephews visited me in Montreat - love them!

The day will come, likely before I'm fully ready, when we will leave our Vancouver home and reconnect with our SC home.  It would be dishonest for me to claim there are not mixed emotions and anxiety about that.  We've all heard that 'you can't go home again' and I understand that phrase in a new way now.  But I'm hopeful that we'll create a new home in a familiar place while grieving and treasuring the Vancouver home we'll leave behind.

It seems our lives have been full of coming and going - with all the expected feelings associated with each.  Turns out - we've survived it all.  One particular going included the gift of a children's book (a prophetic media form, I'd contend) titled The Invisible String from a dear friend.  It's in storage right now (along with most all of our books and belongings) but its message rings in my ears - a message of connectivity among dear ones - via invisible strings.  When I consider the invisible strings I share with people whom I hold dear, I visualize a web that blankets states, countries and continents.  It's comforting to imagine this supportive web that we've bounced across and reminds me of the human connections that undergird and help preserve my sanity during the journeys.

So today as I ponder the anxiety that comes with returning to a place from whence I've come - different than when I've left - and the eventual farewell we'll bit to people I love in a place I love, I'm reminded of the words I heard this week in my Montreat home.  One of our speakers spoke words of challenge and comfort as she recounted her story of being called away from a life she'd spent years building - back to a life she'd left.  She was called to be an agent of change and grace and hope.  Our prayer is that we can plug in in a way that will leave a mark and that our family will look for ways to matter in a new context.

I'm two planes away from my husband and children at this moment and with each minute closer to them I find myself a minute further from my parents and sister.  It's a mixed bag - but it's sure lovely to be moving toward a reunion and not just dwelling on a departure.

Best. Welcome. Ever.

Christmas "Magic"

Our household is officially in week 2 of the battle against cold/fever/sinus hell and I'm getting grumpy about it.  I'm the only one who ended up on antibiotics but those haven't prevented the hellish march of this virus/bacteria through our tiny apartment.  Sleep has been disrupted, ribs are sore from coughing and I'm not OK with it.  I mean, it's Christmastime - why is this time of year is ripe with sickness?  So today, I've given myself permission to wallow for a brief time and then get over it.  And I have to give my daughter huge props as she seems to be standing firm in her resistance to said bug.  Lord I hope she knocks all its teeth out and avoids it altogether - I'll buy her a cupcake (or two).  Perhaps the upside of this situation is that school's not out yet so maybe, just maybe, we'll all be restored to semi-good health by the time we're on break and can enjoy all this city has to offer in the way of nostalgic traditions.  Dear God, hear my prayer.

In an effort to get over my wallowing in self-pity, which admittedly is as unattractive as the cold sore developing on the tip of my nose, I'm choosing to reflect on the days leading up to the crash into feverish oblivion for a pick me up.  If you've not ever been to the west coast of Canada, you're missing out.  We live at the beach here in Vancouver - not SC beaches, but beaches nonetheless.  And in a 10 minute car ride + 8 minute gondola ride we find ourselves atop Grouse Mountain.  It's pretty amazing.  A couple of weekends ago, we decided to head up to Grouse to see how much snow had accumulated and we were in for a treat!  Grouse is our default weekend runaway in the summer and winter - skiing all winter and hiking all summer.  Add that to the movie theatre there and the Christmas experience they create each year and it's obvious that boredom isn't an option.  This was our first year heading up for the Christmas experience and we weren't sure what to expect.  As we offloaded the gondola it was clear we were in for a treat!

Welcome to Santa's Workshop and the North Pole!

 

Just your regular day igloo building

Grouse mascot :)

Snow angels!

We walked into the chalet and were greeted by a gospel choir lining the staircase singing Christmas carols.  We grabbed a quick bite to eat and headed outside to the outdoor ice skating rink.  As if an outdoor ice skating rink isn't cool enough, located on its side was a huge sign marking the North Pole and Santa's Workshop.  As this is the first year that only half of the children in our house really gets into Santa, it was a *joy* to see them both peering in the workshop's window to catch a glimpse of the jolly old elf himself.  The kids enjoyed skating while Philip and I huddled by the fire pit.  Once their ankles had had their workout, we headed to see the two reindeer Santa had brought for the day to Grouse.  Vixen and Dancer were making our mountain their home for the season and it was pretty amazing to see live reindeer gnawing on hay.  We visited with them a bit and then joined the queue for our turn to see Santa.  Lydia was chomping at the bit.

The choir singing Christmas carols

Vixen & Dancer

 

Our turn came, an elf opened the workshop door and we were ushered into the warmth inside.  The kids dutifully took their spot on Santa's lap and introduced themselves.  Lydia went into explicit detail as to her Christmas list and Henry went through his - making clear it was for his sister's benefit.  Then, the hilarious happened - suddenly, without explanation, Santa began engaging the kids in conversation and decided that our son's name was actually Paul.  We like the name Paul.  We really do.  But our son's name is Henry and our Henry shot me a look that, if it had included words, would have sounded something like, "Are you kidding me?  How did he get to PAUL from HENRY?"  It took every ounce of self control I had not to lose it.  The funnier part was that Santa was making an obvious effort to use their names repeatedly in conversation so they knew he knew their names - some sort of nice-list-confirmation-tactic.  When we exited the workshop, Henry turned to me and asked [dripping with incredulous sarcasm], "WHY did he keep calling me PAUL?"  And then I lost it - that kind of laughter that makes you snort - lost it. 

Santa, Lydia & Henry/Paul

It was a great day - and I'm grateful we had an early experience of Christmas spirit to carry us through this latest battle of the germs.  We made our way back to the chalet and visited the gingerbread village and listened to a few more carols before making our way back down in the gondola.  It was near-perfect - aside from the name snafu.  Alas - I wouldn't be surprised if a few gifts for Paul found their way into our apartment in a few days...we shall see.  Onward and upward we climb dear friends - past the clogged noses and chest rattling coughs - and hope to find that Christmas sparkle again.  Wallowing is now over - getting over it commenced - watching for magic the new focus.  Merry Christmas - bumps and all...

Gingerbread village

Snow Henry

Lydia and her elf hat

The Marcum penguins - we'll be skiing here after Christmas!

 

Philip giving Lydia a fast start down the hill

Mt. Baker, WA in the distance

Cream Puffs & Parliament

Lately there seems to be a plethora of publicity for all things I would dub a hot mess.  From Ebola to protests to violence, distrust and misdeeds seem to be the norm of the day.  Governments are mired in conflict, people are irritated with policies that don't seem to capture their individual opinions correctly and attempts to find people to blame are rampant.  These days, it can seem pretty desolate being human.  But the stories that don't get press are the ones of hope and looking to policy and politics for hope can, more often than not, lead to disappointment and frustration.  BUT - look to people and there, that's where you find hope.

Last week was a big week at our house.  We're fortunate to have landed on a floor in our building with some great neighbors.  There are only 4 suites on our floor and we enjoy a congenial relationship with our floor mates - it's a gift.  One couple hails from the Holland - by way of an Indonesian tea plantation for the husband.  Funny enough, the two met here in Vancouver and have served, perhaps unwittingly, as surrogate grandparents for our children.  When we bake, we share with them and vice versa.  Not long ago, our plate was returned clean but not empty - it held some homemade cream puffs that were delectable.  We walked across the hall to thank the chef and she offered to share the recipe.  I love recipes - I read cookbooks like novels - I was thrilled.  I arrived home from running errands to find the recipe taped to our door and was delighted to read the last line, "Comes with one lesson - my kitchen or yours."  SCORE!  As we were in the midst of our homeschool season, I knew the time would have to wait until the kids were back in school - I'd have to be patient.

That time came last week - Tuesday, in fact.  I knocked on our neighbor's door at 10AM sharp - with cookie sheet, parchment paper, and ingredients in hand.  The water was already on her stove and flour premeasured and we got to work.  While I loved cooking with our neighbor, what I really enjoyed was her company and her stories.  As we whisked in eggs I asked how she and her husband met and she explained that when she took a Trans-Atlantic ship from Europe to NYC en route to visit an aunt in Vancouver, that her mother had told her to look for another couple making the same voyage.  Apparently, this couple was friends with the aunt she'd be visiting and would be dinner guests; her mom thought it would be awkward to have been on the same ship for ten days without at least making an effort at introductions.  Little did she know that she was meeting her future in-laws.  The couple, in fact, came over for dinner during her visit with their adult daughter and son.  As they left, their son whispered to my neighbor, "When my parents and sister leave, I'm going to ask you out."  And he did.  She stayed in Vancouver and they returned to Holland where they were married and then went on to honeymoon in Paris.

Cooling cream puffs and homemade chocolate glaze - Y-U-M!

As the cream puffs baked, we sipped coffee and she shared with me how her husband had gone into hiding during WWII and had been part of the underground, helping pilots cross the Rhine to the liberated southern Netherlands - Pegasus I was a success and Pegasus II was not.  In Pegasus II, her husband's brother was mortally wounded but they did not know that until his mother advertised in a London paper asking about his whereabouts.  They later learned that he was well cared for in his last days by a German doctor and many years later, while at a memorial celebration her husband got to meet the man who had cared for his brother.  Closure. 

We had a lovely morning; delightful, in fact.  I was glad I had the wherewithal to leave the laundry, dirty dishes and to-do list and make time for this slice of connection.  I left filled in a much deeper way than the yummy cream puffs could provide and felt honored to have learned about the artists' village of Laren where my neighbor was raised.  I got a glimpse into history in the most personal way I've ever experienced as she showed me books that included paintings of her hometown - the windmill, the mansion of Mr. Singer, his atelier where she lived when her school was commandeered by the Germans during the war.  It was holy.

Finished product

The following day, the kids and I joined up with a couple of friends from school to ferry over to Victoria for a day at Parliament.  This was the grand finale to the field trips I had planned during strike time and we had decided we'd go on this trip regardless of school being in session.  It was an important trip.  We struck out at 730AM and got to the ferry terminal in time to board the 9AM sailing.  The hour and a half boat ride was foggy and damp, but the kids were excited to be having school in a different way.  We arrived, hopped the bus bound for downtown Victoria [via every single stop imaginable since the express bus was full, but I digress] and hopped off at Parliament in time for an early lunch before heading to Question Period.  We opted for hot dogs from a food truck and ate at picnic tables on the harbor and chatted with seagulls.  The clouds were thick but beginning to break and it was nice to be outside.  We headed for Parliament at 1PM to clear security, receive our guest passes and be seated in time for QP.  Question Period is designed to give the opportunity to ask questions/call to the carpet the government and its actions and we had front row seats for a spicy day!

Hot Dog lunch with Fairmont Empress in the background

Before QP began, however, there was a ceremonial procession of the Speaker announced by the Sergeant at Arms, in formal dress, into the Chambers.  It was a lovely testament honoring traditions and times past as the province seeks to move forward into what the next chapter will be.  Then, members of the legislative assembly were afforded the opportunity to introduce their guests and we were among them.  Our MLA (think representative) from the West End, Spencer Chandra Herbert, stood and welcomed us each by name to our legislature.  I appreciated his words - the connoted his sense of service to our province and our community and indicated to me his obvious care for the call to be in government service.  The children were thrilled to hear their names in such a formal setting and we later learned that we will receive a presentation copy of the minutes listing our names and a CD of our introduction.  We then got to bear witness to very directed questions at our Premier.  She's been in the news quite a lot - especially with the teacher strike - and we were fortunate to be at a session that she attended.  I appreciated the frankness of questions, the willingness to address hard issues and the obvious passion for British Columbia held by the Parliamentarians.  There were times I wondered how governments ever get anything done as the party lines were very clear and dissension seemed the norm.  But it dawned on me that sometimes making such big decisions slowly is healthy.  To rush into any province-wide decision without hearing voices of dissent and other points of view would really be irresponsible and I am grateful that there are people who are willing to ask those hard questions and shine light on implications that may not be positive.

Parliament Building

Buddies

Inside Parliament - with Queen Elizabeth over our shoulder (I think Lydia's mimicking her stance)

Spencer's offices in the West End and in Victoria were lovely to work with and they were extraordinarily patient with me as I navigated the planning of this trip.  Spencer himself made a generous donation to help offset travel costs for all of us and was very gracious with his time.  Following QP he met with our little group and personally toured us around the Parliament building.  We got to see parts of the building not open to general public as his guests - including an old jail which was a hit with the kids.  We ended our tour in his office where we got to ask questions - as many as we liked - and Spencer answered them all thoughtfully without making us feel rushed [despite the fact he had to be on the floor shortly after our departure].  As a parent it was compelling to see my children, especially Henry, take an interest in civic duty.  He asked very thoughtful questions and again that sense of hope rose from the discourse among people.  The relationship our children built with our MLA on that trip is one that will have an impact of which we may not see the depth for years to come.  That visit in Spencer's office helped begin the process of passing the torch to our young people as the leaders and caregivers of our future.  It too was holy.

Photo with Spencer

When I get down and sometimes anxious about the state of the world and the quagmire that we seem to be creating, I look to good people for hope.  I look to people who can see the quagmire as a call to action to be part of the solution.  I look to people who can help me understand the past and the lessons it has to offer our future.  I look to people who seek to shape a better future - not only for themselves but the world as a whole.  And I hope to be a person who contributes good to that cause individually and as a family.  May it be so.

Sunset from the Ferry