Primary Program Day

We were all dressed up for the primary program so we attempted to get some pictures. It was hard, but we managed to get a few good ones. We could not get a decent family picture -- the ones outside the kids were squinting. The ones inside were terrible. Oh well, here they are.

Erica helped curl Bronte's hair -- she looked great!

Bronte then, Bronte now

This photo of Bronte was taken in Marseille, France, two years ago. It's one of my favorites.

These were taken just the other day. Same beautiful girl but what time has passed!

Savoring the Moment:

Anna Quindlen: The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make. … I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of [my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.

Today I took a moment to remember, to notice, to listen, to appreciate these beautiful children that are mine.

Christmas beetles

This is a Christmas beetle, called so because they come out in abundance around Christmas-time. That means now. As I write, one is circling my head and will land soon, somewhere. They come out at night and if I were to walk outside the sidewalk would appear to be moving. I found one at my feet a few minutes ago and got a paper to kill it. Bronte, who had mysteriously woken up and was now at my side, started shouting not to kill it. She told me that if she whispers what she wants for Christmas to the beetle and then lets him go somewhere special, he will whisper in Santa's ear and it will come true. We scooped him/her up, she whispered, and now it's somewhere special outside.

Should I tell her about the one that has now landed on the stair, just a few feet from where she sleeps? Maybe I'll do a little whispering of my own before I let it go...

Waffles

Waffles are an American staple. In our house the waffle tradition has somehow morphed into Friday night waffles. The kids love it. So I was curious when the school fair across the street boasted waffles for sale. The emails inviting everyone to this event hyped up these waffles like they were the newest thing in town. Sausage sizzle -- we get those a lot. But waffles? Not so much at these sorts of things. I'm in, I thought. I paid my $2.50 and got my waffle with a touch of powdered sugar and chocolate -- it was good but really just a regular old waffle. Nothing special. But everyone around me was dying over these waffles! I finally asked one of the other mums about it and she said they don't really eat a lot of waffles here. Sometimes at a cafe but that's about it. So, come on over! I'm going to stand out on my driveway on Friday nights and offer to-die-for waffles -- you know, with melted butter and real maple syrup and bananas and such. Wish me luck.

Saturday market - a perfect day

I brake for markets! I love them dearly. I never pass up the chance to catch a good market, so I threw the kids in the car Saturday morning for the North Sydney produce market. I was so proud of myself for parallel parking on a busy street with a long line of cars waiting behind me -- I even looked like I knew what I was doing and made sure the kids knew how wonderful their mother was. We strolled through the stalls, delighted by the random treasures. Ravi loved the samples of fresh meat and fruit, especially the cherries. They all liked the cupcake decorating booth. One booth had only gourmet potatoes of every variety. One had only olives. Another only honey or jams or soap or bush gifts. Many had cheese and wine and flowers and produce picked fresh. A head of lettuce dripping with dirt here. A red capsicum there. A bunch of coriander. A single avocado. I love the sense of community at these types of markets. We ended with a play at the playground and a read at the library -- a truly perfect morning.

The display at the library from Luna Park. This face haunts me at night and is why I don't like clowns.

In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines, lived 12 little girls in 2 straight lines

Bondi Sculptures by the Sea

It just doesn't get any better than this when it comes to beauty and art. Check out my photos of this amazing event. Chris had work off for Veterans Day and we kept the kids home from school so they could go with us. We all had a great time, even though it was hot, crowded, and too sunny for the kids. They were great sports and we'll remember this a long time.