It's beginning to look a lot like..

Last Thursday night, the phone rang. It was my neighbour, Waldo, calling.

"Hey. There's snow outside." she said.

I peeked through the blinds.
Squinted into the darkness.
Sure enough.
It was snowing all right.
A true-to-form, wet and soggy, Vancouver snowfall.

The resident eavesdroppers burst into sudden squeals of excitement.
On went the hats. Out went the girls.

I ventured out into the elements only twice. And it wasn't to play.
Firstly, for the sole purpose of taking a couple of pictures. As you can see.

Secondly, to provide Frosty's adornments. He was recreated. Amazingly enough.

Since there honestly wasn't more than a centimetre of la neige.

I love how my kids are so appropriately attired. We have a full range of snowsuits and cold-weather boots, believe it or not.

They stayed out for an hour. By then, they were sufficiently damp and bath-worthy. And more than ready for fresh-baked cookies and steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

Now THAT'S a yummy bedtime snack.

Tree's Up!

It's a tradition at our house.
Putting up the tree on the evening of Remembrance Day.

You see, several years ago, we bought our Christmas tree on November 11th. This Douglas Fir Pre-lit special was on sale at Costco. And we had to have it.

Or rather, I had to have it.
I'm like that.
Sometimes.

At the check-out that day, the lovely sales clerk said: "Be sure to put your tree together when you get home and make sure the lights come on. Because if you wait until December to put it up and it doesn't work, there won't be any stock left for an exchange."

She was a smart sales clerk, she was.
You find them these days, every now and then.
Just not often enough.

And that's exactly what we did when we got our new tree home. We put it up. And despite the lovely sales clerk's warning, every one of those little lights twinkled. In fact, the tree looked so pretty, that I couldn't bring myself to put it all back in the box until December.

Since then, our tree goes up November 11th. Two eager little elves are always ready to help. We turn up the Christmas carols, sing at the top of our lungs and... well, make a big mess.

But we make big happy, memories too.

Winter hat. Summer freckles. Cutest littlest Santa's elf ever. Love, love, love her.

There it is. Plugged in, adorned, and ready for presents. Doesn't it look "terrifical"?

Terrifical, as in "Ramona and Beezus".
Great family movie, by the way.
If you haven't watched it yet, you should.
Funny. Oh yeah. It's so guts funny!

11.11.11.

I remembered.

One soldier known personally. And the other unfamiliar thousands who have died, fighting for our freedom.

I remember.

Other soldiers who continue to fight. Some still on the battlefield. Some who have returned home to their families, critically wounded. And now, instead of fighting for us, they are fighting for their lives.

War is a devastating thing.

It breaks, injures, maims. Pronounces the true nature of man's sinful heart. It's almost impossible to remember the brave who fought without recalling the brutality and bloodshed to which they were exposed.

But think of Calvary.
A place of extreme brutality and bloodshed.
Such as was never known before, nor has been since.
There One died, not for his country, but for His creatures.
Have you thought about what the Lord Jesus suffered for you?
Have you accepted His death, as atonement for your sin?
While men may die for our freedom, Christ Jesus died to give us eternal life!
Appreciation and remembrance of His sacrifice surpasses all.


Back to 11.11.11.

Late morning, we went to visit friends. They live on a farm. A cozy little place, nestled at the foot of the hills bordering our Land, and the Home of the Brave.

So picturesque.

The sky was stormy. And dark.
Contrasted well with those maple trees. Which are on the Canadian side, of course.
But just beyond lies the U.S. of A. More friends. And great shopping.

There are animals here at the farm. Much to the girls' delight. The Weimaraner. Chickens. Barn cats. Normally there are dairy cattle too, but they've been temporarily displaced. Instead there were some Texan Longhorns grazing in a neighbouring field. Sure didn't seem the friendliest of beasts, though.

We sat by the fire, sipping coffee.
Enjoying the beautiful view and the company of good friends.

The girls traipsed around, indoors and out.
Happily content to be in the company of the unrelenting Darcy and Fluff.

Fall Back.

Last night we packed the girls off to bed at their regular time, and didn't bother explaining Daylight Saving Time, and the clocks going back an hour.

This morning I was still in bed at 8 o'clock when Miss Kayleigh came knocking on my bedroom door. Alarmed, she said,

"Mom, you slept in. Did you know it's 9 o'clock already?"

And that's when I filled her in.

Downstairs, Miss Alana met Daddie in the kitchen, who began explaining the whole deal with the hour going back, meaning that she had gotten to sleep for an extra hour last night.

Always the inquisitive one, the next thing she wanted to know if the time would go ahead again. Not until Spring 2012, she was told.

"Wow." she said. "That's gonna be a lot of weeks that we get to sleep in."

Don't we all wish it worked that way!

To Trick 'R Treat Or No?

Halloween.

It's become a widely discussed topic. More so among those of us with young children, who find this particular event a challenge when it comes to our christian living. Please don't take my view as offensive. I merely intend to share.

Growing up in Ireland, Halloween for us translated into wearing cheap, plastic masks, playing outside on the street at dark, and knocking on neighbours' doors for a couple of pennies. The treat of the day was a baked apple tart, with 10p wrapped in foil and hidden inside. It was excitement-on-the-edge if you happened to be the one to get the lucky slice! No costumes. No pumpkins. No candies. That evil was associated with this event? Totally unheard of.

Before I joined the Wilson clan, our boys were skilled trick 'r treaters. Costume-clad, they headed out at dusk to gather their candies. Then I was the one, watching these teenagers from the sidelines as the cute costumes were discarded, and their entire collection of firecrackers was used to blow up pumpkins and garbage cans. (Terribly sorry if that was your pumpkin or garbage can!) Thankfully, these little boys have outgrown their childishness and become responsible, mature men. They have, honest. But the point is, their Halloween participation every year did not have a detrimental impact on them.

That was then. This is now.

Is it evil that our girls wear their cute little costumes? Is it evil that they smile for treats from the neighbours?

We don't believe it is.

But we do believe there is evil in this world.

And we also believe it is mandatory to discuss with our children these vivid displays of evil at this time of year. Real forces of darkness run rampant in our world. And not just on October 31. Our Adversary, the Devil, continually walks around as a roaring lion, working against God and seeking to devour everything that is of Him. But our God is the Greater Power and we are called upon to resist the Devil, so that we may be stedfast in faith (1 Peter 5:7-9).

I agree that the evil aspect of Halloween is definitely more flagrant than in previous years. So many ghastly costumes for kids. Such graphic and repulsive store displays. With so much focus on all that is vile, I can imagine that the powers of darkness must be shrieking with delight. Chilling thought.

We do not dabble with evil. But the question remains. Should we or should we not?

This year, we've decided to continue with our tradition. Abhor the bad. Pursue the fun. Dress up. Bring in the candy. Here they are... Trick 'R Treaters, 2011.

And the co-ordinating neighbourhood besties... twin pumpkins...

 ... and twin pirates!

Even my fun-lovin' neighbour got into the game. She totally looked the part, and she was much easier to spot than that guy in the book!!

Will we trick 'r treat next year? Maybe. Maybe not.

But I'll definitely be buying the treats.

Weekend in WA.

Ecstatic hello hugs.
Hot-tubbing. Childrens' Museum. And a newly-weds reception.
Reluctant goodbyes.

All that, plentifully peppered with no small portions of yummy grub.

Can you say, "Awesome Weekend!"??

The Scooter.

Say SCOOTER to me, and here's what comes to mind:

Remember those good old days?

Scootin' around on our squeaky Radio Flyers?

Gettin' from A to B. In no time at all.

Workin' out glutes and hamstrings, and not even thinkin' about it.

But maybe at the mention of SCOOTER, you'd think of this.

Present-day. And definitely more age-appropriate too:

 Not that I have one. Or wish to.

It'll scoot you from A to B.

Promptly.

And without a workout.

When I'm old and wise, SCOOTER will embrace a whole new meaning:

I'll be getting from A to B.

Running over whoever's in my way.

No mercy.

And I'll be blaming it on the eyesight. Or lack thereof.

 

Then there's this guy. The SCOOTER Duck.

 

 

Beady eyes, and flamboyant, over-sized beak.

Beware little fishies.
Gets from A to B in no time at all.

He ain't called a "scooter" for nothin'.

These prettty little birds live along the chilly Alaskan coast.

Which is probably why I've never seen one.

Alaska Cruise 2012, anyone?

But here's a new slant on the topic.
Another way to get from A to B.
Faster than you can say Jack Robinson.

 

My little friend is a Gluteus Maximus SCOOTER!

Friends.

Friends from long ago.

Friends, there for me when I needed them, and there when I didn't. Friends who told me things about myself that I needed to know, but didn't want to admit.

Friends who were a defining influence on my christian life.

Friends who are still friends...
                                     despite the years... the time zones... and the miles apart.

This past weekend, I was delighted when two of those friends came to stay with us.

Alana and Kayleigh were thrilled with all the extra attention. Andrew's wonderful sense of humour kept them in constant fits of giggles and laughter.

And someone is going to be fondly remembered for introducing "The Purple People Eater". I succumbed this week to downloading the lyrics from the internet... and our two little Irish Rovers have been happily chanting around here since.

Fudge.

Fudge has to be the answer. Regardless of whatever the question is.



In fact, no questions are necessary at all.
Especially ones pertaining to my sweet tooth and corpulent constitution.

So go ahead and make yourself some of this yummy confection.
Then delve in. It'll be hard not to.

And don't wreck the whole sublime fudge experience by feeling guilty.

Just click here for the recipe... and thank you, Gwen!

Randomness.

Bye bye Potato Bread. Fried up the last of it this week.

Savored every last bite. Now I need to find a local supplier where I can buy more of this stuff. I've decided I can't live without it.

Out of the blue this week, Miss Kayleigh informed me that only normal people can have their ears pierced. Jolted into focus, I quickly processed this brand new set of facts, wondering just where this conversation was going to end up. Asking her what she meant exactly, she replied, "Well, Mom, not everyone has earlobes." Stifling a grin, I said, "Oh. OK. Not everyone has earlobes?" With an ounce of disgust, she answered, "Mom, don't you ever look at some peoples' ears? Their lobes just go right into their heads." I must admit that right then, I did my very own personal "lobe" check. I think I'm normal. Did you check yours??!!

Refurbishing of Miss Alana's room is still ongoing. Out with the bunk beds, in with the queen. Et bienvenue, la salle pourpre.

I think my camera must've been out in the rain. Splatters all over the lens. Oops, sorry 'bout that. Will clean before the next picture upload!

Our apple trees are now nearly bare... all the juicy fruit has been plucked and transformed to various frozen states... apple sauce, apple slices, apple muffins... all safely stowed away in the deep-freeze for future reference. But here's a new recipe I stumbled on and tweaked a little... Harvest Apple Strudel. Been made several times around here. Totally yum. What you need:

Roll the Pillsbury into a rectangle, by simply pinching the seams together. Piece of cake. Piece of dough, actually.

Mix 1 tablespoon of the lemon jello powder with 1/2 cup cream cheese and spread down the middle of the dough. Then slice the dough into 1-inch diagonals, like this.

Peel and chop the apples. Mix with 1 tablespoon of lemon jello powder, 1 teaspoon of cornstarch, and 1/2 teaspoon of cinnamon. Layer on top of the cream cheese.

Fold the dough into the centre to form a braid. Brush egg white over the dough and sprinkle with 1/4 cup sliced almonds.

Bake at 375 for about 25-30 minutes, until crisp and golden.

Dollop on some ice cream, et voila!

Bon appetit!