Well we didn’t do 2 consecutive days with dad and kidlets home alone. I think we were very wise to slip in a buffer Wednesday. This gave the Noah and Nellie a chance to enjoy maman’s softer, nurturing side. As an added bonus the kids were able to recover from our solo day before being exposed to another one.

We’ve got some synchronized sleeping of the nap variety just underway. This is beginner’s luck of olympian proportions. I don’t know what I did to deserve this 30 - 45 minute kid-free break. It’s most unexpected particularly after the inaugural experience 2 days ago where it seemed they were both on some kind of sleep deprivation kick, perhaps just a bit wary of closing their eyes in maman’s absence.

Immediately preceding the synchro napping, the judges scored Nellie very highly in the you can’t make me eat event. Her double back arching twist refusal fakeout, only to devour the entire spoonful a millisecond later, was de toute beauté as one of the Québecois judges remarked.

Just before getting back to the house for some lunch, Noah was inspired to perform what I like to call his bilingual freestyle nugget croquette song and dance. Surely another hopeful for official event status in years to come. Other events the IOC could consider for subsequent olympics - mixed doubles diaper changing using environmentally friendly cloth diapers, 300 metre trike endurance race and the sexiest one of them all, the 10 metre crawl to crown the planet’s fastest baby bolt.

I’ve been doing more disciplining in the last couple of days. This has been exclusively in relation to Noah-David and has centred primarily around meal times and how he tends at least a few times a day to get in Nellie-Rose’s face. Disciplining is not a foreign concept for me but I’ve certainly got to brush up on it. Our standard approach now is to put Noah in his bed for any transgressions of behaviour and let him know why we’re doing it. It’s hard though on days when he is sequestered on multiple occasions as I did to him 2 days back. My patience isn’t what it used to be when my 2 older girls were toddlers. I’ll be looking to increase the patience factor as well discover innovative solutions to those difficulties that are like rites of passage for children growing up.

Today’s “home alone” has been a much better experience for everyone. As day was breaking, Noah and I had a run through his electronic, adobe flash ABCs. This is an excellent resource from Starfall. we’ve run through it hundreds of times over the last 2 years and Noah continues to learn and get enjoyment from it.

We also checked out a couple of playgrounds and a huge deep sea oil derrick after dropping maman at the new house. The Caldwell Road playground wasn’t very exciting. Back on the Halifax side of the harbour we flipped over to the Northwest Arm and hit the playground at The Dingle. Great spot, right on the water, lots of shade, picnic tables and good equipment for the kids. I took some photos to add to the Playground Chronicles - a project - that will document and map playgrounds in Halifax-Dartmouth. I hope to be able to launch the map, a blog and website within the next few weeks.

Well, the synchro sleep isn’t going to last forever. It’s now clocking in at 46 minutes. There is a possibility that we will see personal bests getting smashed here today. It may turn out to be a nap that goes down in history. I’ve got to run and grab a shower while I can.

We’ll have at least 1 adventure this afternoon - going to pick up maman and flashing up the ozone generator in the new house. We’ll try for another adventure of some sort before we hit the road for Eastern Passage.

Postscript - sleepus interruptus at 49 minutes, no personal bests today. Shower on hold as little Nellie was nestled in my arms. That’s certainly no hardship there. Hopefully I won’t get the boot from bed for smelling too manly………..

We are just short, a smidge shy of madness - long days, abbreviated nights, legalese, realtese. For days on end we’ve been stuffing years of accumulated possessions in boxes for transmigration, or in plastic bags for friendly curbside pick up with final destination incineration, or the landfill. We’re cleaning out this old house and nothing will be left behind.

To spruce up the new place and make it home, we’re affixing our personal stamp. We’ve splashed fresh inviting colours throughout and there will be new flooring in 85% of the house. It’s all taking time, coordination and some uphill slogging on the learning curve. This is one of these situations where the the getting there, the journey itself, is exhausting and probably best contemplated from the comfort of the new home weeks after the contractors have beautified the premises. It’s this final destination that I’m pining for, the big pay off. But let’s be realistic there’s miles to go before we sleep those easy dreams of contentment characterized by clear dawns of new beginnings and blurry memories of the actual move.

Noah has noticed the difference in activity. As he has been out to the new house on several occasions now, he can probably attribute the change in atmosphere and decrease in parent focus time to our preparations for the home-in-waiting. Each visit we make he is very excited to spend time in all the rooms yelling out to us to join him in his, his maman’s or Nellie’s bedroom. His preferred escapades on these occasions are exuberant jumping lifting him a full 2 1/2 inches off the floor and supersonic circular running to the accompaniment of merrily riotous laughter.

Just beyond riotous laughter on the excitable spectrum are incandescent tears and Noah has let loose some real torrents in the last couple of days. Monday was particularly rough. The first home alone day - all day - with Dad certainly had growth potential in the free and easy fun department. The morning was great but come lunch time we were on a runaway bobsled hurtling downhill. It was a cryfest bedroom sojourn for not eating lunch before nap, a full blown waterworks for nap time, back to the bedroom for refusing to eat lunch after nap and then a final for good measure bedroom exile for not sharing toys with his little sister. This was way too high a quotient of tears, sad faces and anger inflected voices for me to take. We were both relieved when maman came through the door from her hard work, home alone and isolated day at the new place.

There will be more home alone days in the coming week and I hope to be better prepared. I’ll be maman’s chauffeur so I can keep the car and get around on adventures. For Noah-David, adventures are divisible in the following categories - parks, playgrounds, the museum, the Discovery Centre, a ferry crossing, the waterfront. All are accessible by public transit, or by foot, but a vehicle just makes getting there so much quicker and increases the on site ‘adventure’ time.

The sproglets were brilliant today. Noah burned off some of his boundless energy on a mid-morning adventure at The Discovery Centre. He played endlessly in his two favourite areas - a BRIO Thomas the Tank table and an indoor sandbox with bulldozers, dump trucks and such. He also had time to continue his climbing exploits - up, over and through windows on the big wooden truck. And as we left, our little rascal was wiggling his butt in the funhouse mirrors.

In the afternoon Nellie and paparoo were the dynamic duo out on a crosstown string of errands. Nellie-Rose was an absolute angel - 5 different stops in 1 1/2 hours, in and out of car seats and shopping buggies and waiting patiently until papa was helped at each of the locations. Not only was Nellie well behaved, she brought smiles to, and played the coquette with, everyone who crossed her path. They say the Gaels proffer 100,000 welcomes and you my Nellie love who have yet to orbit the sun have already sown 100,000 smiles and more and each one you flash my way makes a heartbeat moment that lives forever.

The relatively newly minted high school graduate received her UK WWOOF catalogue today along with the most recent issue of WWOOF UK NEWS running a front page story entitled “Poo Power” reproduced here for your reading pleasure. This new information will assist Alexa in mapping out her 4-month trip and choosing the organic farms where she wants to work. With departure day in early September it’s all very immediate and very happening. I’m happy for Alexa for this first long solo adventure but like all parents of the just leaving home set I’m a little apprehensive.

Big changes and new developments for all of us - we’ve got our tickets to ride, ride, ride and it’s all fine.

Tonight we switched on the iTunes visualizer for wee Nellie-Rose. She was somewhere between happy and not - fussed enough to refuse her food, present enough to lean into a gentle caress. Her new baby smell went the way of the winter melt but her arms wrapped around my neck and her snuggling forehead nestling in the hollow of my shoulder was as sweet as a bursting raspberry.

Geoffrey Oryema’s Makambo lullabied my girl’s heavy drifting eyes until she lay motionless against me. Her tiny body overflowing with energy when awake ebbs peacefully to restful still. Makambo takes her there with the magic interplay of voice and music, the lilting whistle and unhurried pace. From the first time I heard the song it reached deep inside to a universal connector and sailed me to a peaceful eddying place - soothing but accented with bone weary sadness.

I couldn’t understand the literal meaning of Oryema’s lyrics but if the video I came across tonight (linked above) is an accurate rendition then my imaginings weren’t too far off. Really it’s a perfect baby cradling song, a plaintive air to hold her close and warm and safe. A song that reminds us of the despair of war, the hope for peace and the magical promise in a child’s laughing eyes.

Let’s always remember that arms are for hugging. It’s really their functionality and design to embrace, connect and bond. Our arms were at it tonight long, crazy never ending hugs. In our close stillness with soft, shallow breaths I knew that we were building life and dreams and tomorrows.

The minute hand has tracked well past midnight and I’m tuckered, tired and ready to crash, I need to write a little though before I hit the sack for a few sweet sleep deep hours. We’ve been preparing for a big move almost since we arrived home from Québec 3 weeks ago. We’re just about ready to close our new house across the harbour.

Mé’s been the champion on the house prep and packing. I’ve been doing a lot of adventuring and getting kids out to the park, the museum and on shopping errands. We’ve both been getting stretched - time, energy and patience wise and the kids have watched a little more TV than would usually be the case.

Treehouse and the Olympics have helped to keep our Noah and Nellie entertained when we parents have been otherwise occupied. Though I do feel a little niggling twinge of guilt on the quantity of square box being watched, I believe the quality of the programming is consistently strong. There is only one show that we positively do not allow to peek into our kids’ consciences and that’s Barney and Friends. Everything else on Treehouse is pretty much a go. I particularly enjoy watching In the Night Garden with them. Igglepiggle, Upsy Daisy and friends are new favourites for Noah and the very first TV favourites for Nellie. It’s an inviting world of simple make believe replete with its own creatures, languages and cultural expression. For the past few days, Noah and I have been snuggling up on the couch to the 6h30 airing. It’s one way to start out a grey day.

Noah is starting to do like a beanstalk boy. Each visit to the park brings on new attempts at dizzying heights on ladders, climbing bars and ropes. There was one oops, slip, slide and bump on the bum witnessed by Granma Helen and Grampa Bob at Ardmore Park. With the barest of encouragement, he was up and climbing after dusting himself off. Vertical is fast becoming the direction to conquer. It’s exciting to watch our little lad take more risks, to push himself and explore his strength, balance and problem solving. These are small steps up but for me they are great leaps of heart leading to new confidence and bravery. And the smile when he pulls himself over the precipice is like a flash of Everest white - clear, bright and clean.

We’ve had a lot of mini-adventures and domestic blissings this past week - playgrounds, museums, ferry rides, parks, a bit of kicky ball, coffee shops, the odd timbit and the discovery centre. Today was a double header for Noah. This morning out with Dad on a cross harbour ferry jaunt. A man in his 60s just drank in Noah’s storytelling on the way over to Dartmouth. He didn’t understand a word but he was proud to say that his Mom was French from L’Ardoise. We headed for the boat playground on the waterfront and there was already a bunch of kids there from a francophone day care. I’m glad for my little Québecossais that French is heard frequently. The Discovery Centre was the afternoon venue for fun with maman. Noah indulged in a little Thomas the Tank play a new infatuation that was the cause of great unhappiness during a recent visit to Chapters. Today’s Thomas moments were cheerful for all.

Yesterday Nellie and I did a little jaunt out to Point Pleasant Park. We didn’t stray to far from the car. The low, dark clouds were spraying us with misty rain as Nellie gazed at everything around her. An East Indian man came up to us and repeatedly snapped his fingers, an opening gambit to draw a smile, He did eventually but Nellie can be a hard crowd to play - stubborn, intent and forceful. Did I mention feisty and independent in her own right? I doubt that we’ll experience any lack of assertiveness issues with this girl. Green, red and yellow double deckers braked briefly beside us recounting to the passengers of the 3 cruise liners now on shore and touristing about the gallows being located at Point Pleasant and then moved to Hangman’s Point. We cuddled in the rain as cranes loaded trucks with containers from China and beyond. Nellie is such a warm and welcoming bundle to hold tight and snuggle. Her smiling mischief just sweeps me away…..

Late last week we had an incredible show right in front of the house. The City’s work crew was. outside filling in potholes. We had a great vantage point from our front stairs to check out the process and say hello to the workers. A dump truck, a handheld roller, shovels and rakes to fix up the hole in front of our house.

We’ve had a few domino days of late. We’ve set up some straightforward courses and let them tumble. Their clicking and clacking is punctuated by giggles, laughter and the occasional “wow”. As soon as we get into the new house, I’ll enlist Noah to be my assistant to create a show of shows of colourful dominoes. We haven’t done too badly on the play quotient I guess but it it will up dramatically when we get into the new place.

Right, I did put ‘crawl’ in the header. Aside from getting out of bed that way some mornings this past week and checking some of the speedy olympic freestyling in the Beijing water cube, all our crawl marveling and cheerleading has been dedicated to our little Nellie-Rose. She is officially on the move and can cover great distances in multiple shuffles of knees and hands. Our lives will never be the same with both kids now fully mobile. She’s also already trying to pull herself upright on any available prop. Seems like she’ll be doing the bipedal 2-step thing before we know it.

Alexa bought her ticket today for the UK. She is rockin’ happy and looking forward to the WWOOF experience. I will be missing her. She will soon be counting the days.

Gonna be a long day with not enough sleep. Lots to do housewise. We’ll be back soon.

It would be great if you could go on line and get information about local playgrounds. I’m thinking of a comprehensive round up for your community, photos of the equipment, public transit routes serving the site, an activities schedule, age groups for which the equipment is intended, by-laws around usage, leashed, unleashed, or no dogs and other pertinent facts that curious parent minds might want to know.

This project, if it comes to life, will succeed through a collaborative approach. The tools and platforms are there - digital cameras, Google Maps, blogs. I know of about a dozen playgrounds on the Halifax Peninsula - Noah-David and I, and more and more frequently Nellie-Rose, are inveterate playground questers, testers and when we like them, nesters. In the greater urban conglomeration there must be in excess of 50. Looks like it’s time to start planing for the marathon of playgrounds.

This playground tagging is a long term undertaking in the making. To quote a Grade 1 aspiring writer classmate of my brother’s, it will be “balls and balls and balls of fun” while at the same time providing a useful service.

At the family friendly local jo’s coffee emporium, Rachel’s mom was my unscientific public poll of one re this catalogue, directory of playgrounds. She thought parents would find it useful and said she would keep her eyes open for it on the web.

The prototype is up tonight. I’ve just laid down 5 markers. Over the next couple of days I’ll add text to each of the marker boxes and also get some photos posted. I’m also considering the possibility of launching an open blog where people can post playground stories.

There is still some learning to do on my end from the technical perspective. I also need to explore how to disseminate the information and invite others to collaborate. And as always there is the question of time and how much to invest….

At the very least, Noah, Nellie, Mé and myself will have barrels (closely related to balls I understand) of fun visiting playgrounds in the Halifax - Dartmouth area, playing on the equipment and taking a few photos. If we can generate some interest we may get to meet some new parents and kids.

I’d be eager to hear commentary on this and would be particularly interested in hearing from others who may be involved in similar projects.

Long live the playground!!

Take a moment to remember

63 years ago tens of thousands of people were vaporized in Hiroshima with the detonation of the A-bomb. Some died lingering deaths years later such as Sadako Sasaki. Tomorrow in many cities there will be outlines of silhouettes on sidewalks to remind people of Hiroshima’s horror. Sadako’s story is compelling and courageous - a great read for parents and kids alike. I’m just waiting for our copy to arrive at our local kid’s bookstore Woozles.

Imagine a favourite guitar riff, a rolling, cresting percussion wall, a wailing, charging horn section. Now, select from memory the music that was your personal soundtrack to new love. Listen as the lyrics and score take you back and continue to inspire that frisson de folie, that delicious head over heels, gravity-defying tumbling to points unknown.

The sweet, swaying power of music transforms us into feet tapping, waist winding, gyrating rhythm hounds. Our kids, given the opportunity, will just lap up the tunes like there is no tomorrow. Whether it’s classical, country, jazz, funk, blues, R&B, punk, heavy metal, flamenco, rap, rock ‘n roll, or reggae is not really important. What counts is that kids get to listen to a variety of musical genres and develop an appreciation for what moves them to dance, relax, or maybe even play themselves.

Nellie at 9 months is mesmerized by Apple’s iTunes visualizer a pulsating, spiraling, kaleidoscopic on-screen light show that trips to the beat. She can easily watch and listen for 20 minutes seated on my lap. On our return home from Québec it had been 6 weeks since Nellie-Rose had been transfixed in front of the MacBook screen. It had not lost its powerful magic. Nellie immediately flashed a baby bright smile and her dilated eyes became deep resonating universal language pools. When she’s fussing inconsolably this light and sound combo frequently brings her back to a much calmer state

Noah-David got fully grooving, up on his 2 feet and shaking his little butt just after his first birthday. He’d already been moving to the beat - jumping, rocking and turning - for several months in his exersaucer. Independent, free form dance was new and he loved it. His music of choice was Diogal’s Soré a joyous and haunting contribution to worldbeat from Sénégal, West Africa. His musical tastes at this point are limited only by what we choose to play, or by what he tries to play himself. He has his own drum and flutes as well as a toy guitar and enjoys giving impromptu concerts. We had one yesterday in fact - Noah unplugged, guitar and vocals. He announced that his favourite song was Sur le pont d’Avignon which he has adapted quite liberally. Now that young sister Nellie-Rose has mastered the art of clapping, the appreciation quotient has just upped a couple of notches for our performance crazy balladeer.

Music’s influence and imprint at a young age creates an indelible soundscape. 40 plus years down the road I can still hear the bold brass of Herb Alpert’s Tijuana ensemble. I’ll never forget the racy - for a 10-year-old - and suggestive cover of Whipped Cream & Other Delights. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of that luscious model and at a tender age, whipped cream took on a whole new meaning. I loved those tunes and remember asking my Dad to put them on the platter and turn them up. They were from a world far away but with the drop of a needle the MexiCali chart topping pop filled our house with bursting, cascading notes - warm musical showers that brought smiles and a touch of mischief to our eyes.

The other stand outs in my parents’ musical canon spinning on the RCA Victor console were Frank, Bing, Andy Stewart, Englebert Humperdinck, Nana Mouskouri and the ineffable, inimitable Tom Jones. There was more, but this is all I can remember. Tunes like My Way, Release Me, She’s a Lady and Lonely Bull are part of my permanent songbook and continue to release happy memories when I chance to hear them.

I’m a big BMW fan (Bob Marley and the Wailers) and my kids from a young age have all been able to recognize his distinctive storytelling cadence powered by that signature roots, rock, reggae beat. Makyla and Alexa continue to have lots of time for Mr. Natty Dread. Not only do they have a genuine love for his easy skanking tunes, they also recognize the powerful vision of one love, one heart, one humanity at the core of this Rastaman’s chant. Noah knows that dad loves Big Bob and he can well fine skank his own dance moves to the Rastaman Vibration album. As for Nellie-Rose, she’ll pretty much listen to anything at this point as long as it’s flashing on the iTunes visualizer….

Kyla loves techno and has been an ardent fan and faithful attendee at the World Electronic Music Festival since its inception. Toronto’s known as a big techno town but I need to ask Kyla if her love of this music pre-dated her recurring role as Daphne in Queer as Folk. QAF’s Bablyon dance bar was a TV techno paradise - bone rattling music, hot, drenched, sweating bodies and pulsating, syncopated, strafing lights.

Alexa’s first big music crush was either ABBA or The Spice Girls - can’t remember which came first. Her bigger sister was right there with her on both counts. In fact, Kyla went to the recent Toronto Spice concert. The Brit gals were catchy, poppy fun, let yourself go, girl power kind of stuff. I played the tunes as frequently as they did and the music certainly had as much redeeming value as my first musical infatuation - The Archies, a group of invisible musicians fronting for comic book animated cartoon characters. Come to think of it the 2 groups share some kind of cartoonish commonality.

Alexa also has decent 60s and 70s classic rock iTunes collection as well as a fondness for Johnny Cash, Nirvana, The Clash and The Red Hot Chili Peppers. She’s introduced me to The Fratellis, The White Stripes and Wilco. There’s lots more I could pick up from her as I don’t recognize any of the groups she’s listening to currently - Tegan and Sara, Iron and Winz, Islands, Miracle Fortress, Los Campesinos, Against Me and Wolf Parade. A little bit of tunes in the house at a young age lasts a lifetime and I’ve got lots to look forward to with the 2 little ones discovering their musical signatures.

As it turns out even old dogs can learn new tricks. Years ago, Kyla set me up with Napster and much to her regret downloaded the Funkstar Deluxe version of Marley’s Sun is Shining. I must have played it nearly 30 times consecutively that night - I just couldn’t get enough. That over and over repetitive playing of a new, or favourite song is a trait shared by Makyla, Alexa and Noah - maybe something genetic there, or maybe just a common compulsion. In any event I jumped into that digital pool at the deep end as an early adopter and am now virtually all digital, all the time. Many thanks to Alexa also who repeatedly encouraged me to go Mac where it’s all just so much easier.

More recently, Mélanie has taken me on a Québecois musical adventure that is an ever pleasant, never ending source of pleasure. First I was introduced to Daniel Bélanger and his dreamy, other worldy love poems. Rêver Mieux was my rhapsody to Mélanie and M. Spoutnik was the first Québecois musician whose storytime tunes really circulated in my bloodstream. There are many more great artists that I’ve listened to or heard live - Stefie Shock, Richard Desjardins, Isabelle Boulay, Eric Lapointe, Jean LeLoup, Ariane Moffat, Les Cowboys Fringants, Dan Bigras and the list goes on. Mé is a passionate guide who knows her stuff and is proud of the depth, breadth and abundance of talent in the Québecois music scene. Moi, je suis vraiment chanceux de connaître ça et nos enfants aussi. The Rest of Canada is missing so much……

So now we come back to the McCartney show on the Plains just over 2 weeks ago. In the post where I wrote about the show, I didn’t say anything about the 2 other bands that shared the stage and that was a real oversight. Both are from Québec - The Stills anglos out of Montréal and The Pascale Picard Band francos from Québec City recording in English. Both kicked ass warming up the crowd for Sir Paul and gang. Pascale played one of Noah’s favourite tunes that he has christened Tambours but the singer and other fans know as A While.

As Bob said, “forget your troubles and dance, forget your sorrows and dance”.

P.S. 2 important developments yesterday - Nellie-Rose slept through the night for the first time and she has started to crawl - watch out world.

Right then, where was I? Yes, that last night in Sorel with lots of sweetness, I’m talking mousse and shortcake, rosé, visitors and good cheer. It’s always great to see Daniele and family. They’ve been in love with Noah-David since he was born and the same is true for Nellie-Rose.

Daniele, Richard and daughter Liane live in the funkiest of country houses just on the edge of Sorel. Four big horses including King and Prince, the dogs, Doris and Sam, and birds, birds, birds round out the family. On winter weekends the big horses pull sleighfuls of revelers along country trails harness bells ringing as the big animals’ laboured breaths crystallize in the cold, crisp air.

Liane, the first to take Noah-David on a horse ride even before he could walk, competes in reining shows across the province. Chez Daniele horses are the thing. Her beautifully maintained grounds have also won multiple prizes and are a joy to stroll through. This time around I didn’t get a chance to visit their place but Mélanie and I have agreed that we won’t let that happen in subsequent visits.

One month seems like ample time for a visit but as the days streamed by - some laid back and lazy, others cranked and frenetic - we came to terms with our inability to see everyone, do everything and be everywhere. When we decided that we had to cut our trip short, there was that just out of reach feeling, the tantalizing almostness that became a soupçon of regret knowing that plans had to be changed. Our visits to Ottawa, Mercier and Montréal to see family and friends had to be scrapped and both Mélanie and I were saddened. We were also bummed to miss Stefie Shock’s Francofolies de Montréal show. Mélanie’s sis Stéphanie and Jasmin inherited the tickets for what turned out to be a spectacle débile. As they say in the Caribbean, “more times…..”

Keeping things in perspective, I can’t emphasize how excellent our time was with Raymond and Nicole. The family visiting just superb. The corner lot bungalow was transformed into a playzone for the kneehigh and smaller set. Les grandparents were much more easy-going about clutter and wall to wall toys underfoot than I could ever be. There were plenty of impromptu doses of entertaining fun with grand-papa and grand-maman. Summer sky days of high adventure, running, jumping, tickling and other simple pleasures cradled our babies and rocked them steady in a one heartbeat of love.

Grand-maman Nicole was working during part of our stay but she always found time to play with the kids. Watering the garden and folding clothes were happy Noah - grand-maman activites, Hide and seek was another favourite, a rollicking riot for all to watch. Some of the fundamental concepts of the game did not fully sink in for Noah. Sure, he did well with the counting - skipped a number here or there, or flipped their sequence. The closed eyes were mostly so - a little bit of peeping leakage through tiny splayed fingers. In the seeking department Noah was tenacious but not always successful . The ‘hider’ frequently used some form of vocalization - a cough, a calling of his name - to draw the lad to the spot. It was the hiding though that presented the greatest opportunity for mirthful laughter. Noah’s reckoning was that if he was absolutely still, immobile, frozen on any given spot he had it made. It didn’t matter much that he was in the direct line of vision of the seeker and perhaps only 10 or 15 feet distant. If he wasn’t hiding out in the open, he would often pick the hiding spot that his playing partner had just vacated. Certainly some work to do here before getting involved in any competitive hiding and seeking.

A freshly retired physical education teacher, Raymond dedicated himself to expanding Noah-David’s experience of play and began to instill an awareness of the basics of sportsmanship. Basketball, road hockey, cycling, soccer, climbing, sliding, swinging were all highly anticipated activities for our lad to adoringly embrace with grand-papa Raymond. There were 3 key venues for all of this fun - the backyard, the driveway and playgrounds.

Noah-David is a playground manaiac. In French we’d say he is accro - addicted. Any day that rain threatens, Noah looks out the window repeatedly to assess current conditions trying to determine whether a trip to a park is a possibility. He reports to all on grey sky, clouds with rain, blue sky and with his happiest and most excited voice he bears witness to the arrival of the sun. He has yet to visit a park he didn’t like. The swings are without exception his favourite though he is beginning to expand his repertoire. He swings like a pendulum back and forth, always wanting to go higher, for 20 or 30 minutes at a time. Sometimes we have to pry him out of the seat to have him try another piece of equipment.

Since we’ve returned, we’ve continued our Sorel and Halifax tradition of visiting different playgrounds. This week we made time to hit 5 and try their wares. Each has something different to offer that sets it off - distance from home, age of equipment, water frontage, sandboxes, shade, number of kids, etc.

We were 15 hours on the road between Québec and Atlantic playground idylls. Five minutes out from Sorel, Noah-David asked - “rendu” - nearly there yet? Fortunately for all of us this didn’t become a fixation. We suffered some serious gas sucking aerodynamic drag because the front clasp on our roof cargo rack broke. The oncoming wind permanently lifted the top cover letting in whatever the elements had to offer. In Montmagny we bought some industrial strength expanding rubber straps to try and keep everything under wraps. It worked after a fashion - good enough, not great. This mishap pushed us on to complete the drive in one shot as we wanted to beat the rain and we managed to do just that.

In Edmunston around 22h30, Nellie-Rose was en vedette. She was a talking, singing, moving, dancing, clapping hands of a baby strutting her stuff in just every way she knew how. Tim’s wasn’t too busy at the time but all of the customers who were there took a moment to take in this one night only, one baby show. Lots of smiles from strangers and that warm feeling of being blessed with such wonderful kids.

Halifax hadn’t changed any in our absence - maybe a bit more road work but it’s the season. We had a bag full of mail from the neighbours across the street - 80% crap, 20% bills, bills, bills. You know you’re back when your bills come home to roost. There is no more passing go….

We like the road but it’s good to be back. We’re starting to settle in before our next grand adventure which we’re madly preparing for now. In the interim, we’re enjoying the days and the firsts that come our way - 2 new teeth and pre-crawl rocking for Nellie, parent-free trike riding and big swing swinging for Naoh.

And then there are the days of wonder. This week it was the jackpot of jackpots - presto, right out of nowhere it was like a migratory truck sanctuary - 2 urban garbage trucks, a couple of work horse dump trucks, an orange leviathan moving truck and for good measure a common yellow digger and miscellaneous cars - all at the same time, right in front of our house. The throaty rumble of their engines and their tops brushing against the vaulted canopy that shelters the street wonder wide-eyed our Noah-David. This was better than Bob the Builder, Mr. Rogers, Thomas and Theodore combined. This was up close road rolling and shaking action right on our doorstep. The trucks were aligned….