Young Elton

Zoe at Playschool.
Don't you wish University was this much fun? Oh wait...

Princess Hell

Yes, Mommy, there is a Princess Hell. It's called Crazy Frank's.
This proves that I will do anything for my sweet Zoertins.

I would not have been caught dead in this much pink when I was a child, but these are different times. And I did wear the hell out of my rainbow shirt and surrounded myself with more rainbows & unicorns than a fantasy sky could offer.

This fun little outing was Zoe's friend Leah's birthday party. Leah really wanted a princess tea party at Crazy Frank's. Zoe had a great time hanging out with some old schoolmates and running around playing princess. Good times.

The dinner that EVERYONE ate

I wondered when the day would finally come.
When I wouldn't have to eat Mac & Cheese or Stars Soup for dinner again.
The night when I could make a real dinner with a protein, a carb and vegetables all on one plate, without having to make two other dinners first (because I don't have the oomf to make a "real" dinner after making two other kids meals).
This great steak dinner did the trick. I made the meal, I set the table for 4, I cut tiny bits of steak, poured condiments and make the declaration, "eat it or starve".
And they ate.
We're lookin' for a repeat.

Bad Photo Day (or why sometimes, there are no posts)

"Why haven't you posted?"
"Where are the new pictures of my grandchildren?", you ask?
Well, some days are simply bad photo days.
They tend to come in swarms, like locusts.
Sometimes, there's a lot of rain, or bad light, or boring times, or I'm feeling unenthused... let's face it, sometimes The Muse is fickle.
Well, this blog stars my favorite muses, and you know, sometimes they are uncooperative. They won't mug for me, or way worse yet, they won't hold f&*^ing still.
Or look at me, and then I get a bunch of pics of blurry kids or lots of shots of their backsides.
On this lovely day, all I can blame is bad photo-mojo. Nothing turned out well, but not due a lack of some effort on my part. Oh well, at least you get a new peek at your grandchildren, even if they do look sickly, annoyed, or in a hurry.

Homeward Bound

Our last morning in Vancouver was a frosty one. But beautifully sunny. After many chilly days and frozen nights in a row, the ground was very crunchy this morning. The grass has been crunchy for a few days now, especially in shaded areas, and each day brings another layer of dew to freeze. The park across the street was very white and frosty this morning, and as the sun rose higher, a fog began to lift from it. It was really beautiful, this foggy frosty landscape with the bare trees. Grammy, Grampy Ted and Layla took Juju and Zoe across the street to run around while Nico and I gathered our belongings and packed bags. The flight south was lovely, clear all the way over the snowy mountains.

Squamish Railroad Museum

Another one of Grampa Ted's brilliant itineraries for Juju.
So around the turn of the last century, Canada was trying to lure immigrants to populate the provinces and built itself an amazing railroad system through some beautiful country, and Squamish, B.C. was the western terminus. Squamish also thrived on mining copper and logging and paper products until recently; now they attract rock climbers, mountain bikers, outdoor enthusiasts, and folks headed to Whistler, less than an hour away. We came for the railroad museum, which was impressive to say the least. It is indeed a train lover's dream come true. There are trains of literally every size- from the Thomas train table inside the roundhouse (next to a lovingly restored Victorian-era private train car) to retired locamotives, boxcars, snowplow cars, coaches and every other car I know of. They just sit there, on the tracks, open with little stepstools to invite you up inside. Each car has something different to offer- some have old pictures, collections of railway silverware and pottery, badges, antique telegraph equipment, maps and communications systems. One car had been outfitted with a miniature model train system behind glass that ran the entire length of the car- miniature village after village. Then there was also a wooden train climbing play area, and the tracks for a small train for kids to ride on- unfortunately, it was out of service for the winter season. I cannot imagine how many retired train lovers have poured their hearts and souls into this place. And almost nothing was closed- you were welcome to walk around the tracks and inside the old trains, welcome to sit in the engineer's seat for the driver's view, welcome to poke at the old metal and peer the windows- from the inside. Julian was obviously in heaven. Finally, someone was hearing him when he requested day after day, "I want to see the train tomorrow".

After the train museum, and lunch at a local brewery, we went for a walk at Porteau park, also on Howe Sound. Even though it wasn't yet 3 o'clock, the tilt of what seemed like a weak sun nearly blinded us as we walked through the forest at the water's edge, watching the frost sparkling on the beached logs, and blowing on our mittened hands, to keep them warm.

Snowball Fight

Otherwise known as "Peace through superior firepower".