Last Day of Starfish

Una passed Starfish today.  They gave her a report card.  She's five-and-half months old and she has a report card.  All the little boxes were checked off.  She can glide on her front and on her back, puts her face in the water, and doesn't freak out... often.  That's pretty much all you need to do to pass Starfish.  Actually, she goes underwater quite comfortably, and she kicks her feet a little now.  The report card recommended we sign her up for Duck.  Duck?  You have to be eighteen months old for Duck.  If you can't stand on your own, it's pretty hard to do Duck.  We're doing Starfish again.  She doesn't know the difference anyway.  

Incidentally, if anyone has ever wondered how well those cloth swim diapers work, I can tell you now.  Today, after her last turn down the slide, Una wanted to play motorboat again.  This time the engine's roar came from below the water.  Fill the bathtub full of water.  Then drag a tea bag through it from one end to the other.  That's how well cloth swim diapers work.  They keep the leaves in, but the tea still seeps out.

Day-trip Vacation

"Where can we go for a week for two-thousand dollars?"  I didn't tell her I wanted to sit on a beach during the forenoon, and hike in the afternoon, or that we preferred a European plan to an all-inclusive.  I didn't tell her, and she didn't ask.  Instead the agent at Flight Centre bit her lip and said, "Ooooh, you know it's spring break right?"  No, of course I didn't know it was spring break.  What significance does spring break have in my life?  Turns out spring break means that a quicky vacation to a hot spot for two-thousand dollars means Mexico, all-inclusive or nothing.  The dream of Hawaiian black sand beaches popped like little soap bubbles in my head.  Puerto Rico sunk below the horizon like the sun setting on a cloudy night.  The Dominican was right out, and the French Caribbean might as well have been on Mars.  Mexico or bust huh? 

Today was the first day of our "Day-trip Vacation".  We went to Buchardt Gardens for the better part of the morning, and then had lunch at a cafe in Brentwood Bay.  Tomorrow we can't go anywhere, because we have our last day of swimming lessons, but on Sunday we're driving up to Parksville to walk on the beach.  We're going to go to all the tourist hot-spots  within two hours of Victoria.  Well, we're also spending a weekend in Vancouver.  It's funny how we seem to have done so few of the things we thought we'd enjoy doing here on the island.  Now with only three weeks leave remaining before I have to go back to work, I want to fit as much in as I can.  

Buchardt Gardens is beautiful no matter when you go, but today it was extra special.  It was almost deserted.  We passed maybe eight other people the whole time we were there.  We stood in the middle of an empty sunken garden, and watched the magic fountain with only two other people.  

Una was fascinated by all the greenery, and sampled as many textures as she could reach.  She's really very curious about her surroundings now, and we're trying to get her outside as often as we can.  We'll work some hiking into next week, and she'll even get her first ferry ride.

So what if we can't wiggle our toes in warm sand and wade into caribbean-blue water, while slurping icy coconut drinks and sampling ceviche.  At least we can get to know our little part of the world a little bit better, and maybe save something for a proper vacation in the summer time.

The Video Camera

Just before Una was born, Nevada and I went out and bought a video camera.  It's shiny silver, has a fold out view-screen, a bunch of little red and green lights, and a lens that makes things bigger and smaller when you press two buttons.  For months now that's really all I've known about it.  It's the easiest little machine to use, but somehow whenever I pick it up I start to feel like I'm on live television.  I have a great deal of difficulty filming anything, because I know that at some point I'm going to watch what I've captured and I'll be instantly compelled to erase it.  You see, this little gizmo has exposed me to myself in a way I wasn't really prepared for.  I tick.  I tick all the time, and I notice it.  My friends and family tell me they don't.  They are of course lying.  The camera doesn't lie though, so the first time I played a video that I had taken I had to turn it off.  I was horrified.  This is what I sound like to other people?  At that moment I was certain I would never leave my apartment again.  I had carefully avoided being captured on tape for many years now.  Then I went out and bought a gizmo, the sole purpose of which is to record our voices and faces for all time.  I ought to have spent the money on a vacation.  We could have used it to pay down the car.  Maybe we would have put it in the bank.  No we wouldn't have put it in the bank.  So now I have this digital video camera, that once had the potential to be a very nice vacation, car, or bank deposit, and I'm learning to live with it.  It's brutally honest with me, and I have to say, sometimes quite rude.  It tells me when I've forgotten to shave, when I've put on a few more pounds, and when I'm just plain annoying.  I appreciate it's honesty, but sometimes I'd just like it to flatter me a little.  After-all I did choose it over a trip and a bigger bank balance.  It's the most ungrateful resident in this apartment, next to the scale that mocks me on a regular basis, and the alarm clock that I've lost somewhere in a closet that beeps at 1630 every day.  

These first two videos were shot by Nevada.  It was early in the morning, and I was still in bed, safely out of range of the microphone.  They're the kind of video a proud parent bores his friends with, but maybe my family will appreciate them.  That is of course if I can manage to post them in a useable format.

The first one is my favorite.  Una has outgrown her bouncy chair.  I know, she's only five months old, but it's sagging pretty low these days, and she really prefers to sit up anyway.  So Nevada gave her a specialized play facilitator, that props her in an upright position, makes her feel safe and contained, and is easily replaced if it is damaged.  It's a cardboard box with a blanket in it, and Una prefers it to both the play-blanket, and the exer-saucer.    

Una likes to laugh, especially if someone will laugh with her.  Some days it goes on for ten minutes at a time.  So far it's her best trick.

The First Post

I've never blogged before.  Until about a year ago I didn't even know what the word meant.  My friend Vone turned me on to this, and she's promised me that it's all very easy to do.  It would have to be.  I'm no technophile.  I have a digital watch that is incorrect for half the year, because I can't figure out how to change the time forward or back on hour.  

As I understand it, a blog is a space for bringing pieces of your life together in a sort of virtual gallery.  You can post stories, pictures and videos.  You can also post a whole lot of other things like how-to guides, recipes, political opinion pieces, consumer ratings, and movie reviews.  In short your blog is your very own personal New York Times.  

This is my blog.  I hope I can use it to share stories and pictures with my family and friends.  We live so far apart, and I'm often away, so it's hard to stay in touch sometimes.  Since Una came into our lives I've had a lot to share, and no good way to get the words out, not to mention the videos.  Well here it is.  My New York Times.