By the way, we had a fine Christmas. I got handkerchiefs in/with my stocking. But of course, being our household, they didn’t come folded in a pile, but in a flurry of cranes, Samurai helmets and other origami and napkin folds. One forgets how truly spectacular a flock of hankies can be.
We visited the puppies again today. They have increased even more in cuteness and most of them are now busy making trouble. The tricolours are the most troublesome, followed by the lightest merle and the chicken-clucker from last time.
What do we mean by troublesome? Oh, you know, attacking shoes, marauding fingers, mauling pant cuffs, stealthily dispatching rogue and potentially dangerous ears of sleeping siblings, frenetically attacking speaker wire and power cords. Anything will do really. And their bites are the real deal now, with their tiny needle teeth.
Hershey, their mom, dropped by for a quick visit, but she can barely stand their wicked ways. A quick, black fly-like feeding to drain her slowing milk supply and she’s out of there.
Many loved to be cuddled. Even the most placcid can, when all of her siblings are sleeping, turn teddy bear killer.
Jon was a little less at ease this time around, not because of any individual pup, but by the wave of them, always in motion. He was charmed by their yips and whines, as they expressed themselves.
Three more weeks to go…
David Barker has an interesting fact for us, with a picture to boot (good Internet research, Mr. B!)
I suppose it looks like Jon, if you add glasses. Darken the hair. And cut it a bit. Maybe you have to be there in person… 
We drove up and visited the puppies for about an hour yesterday. At four weeks old, they are just starting to be social, and gain personality. They play for 5-10 minutes, and then you turn around and they’re in a pile asleep. But the pile is never still; someone is always jockeying for a better spot. So 10-15 minutes later, everyone is suddenly up and fully awake.
They’re just figuring out how to play, and some are better than others…but neither their teeth nor their bite strength is enough to do any harm yet. The yips and yelps will come in a couple of weeks.
They are about 3-4 weeks from Max Q (in engineering: maximum cuteness). Jon’s left hip was bothering him, so it was hard for him to be comfortable and cuddle the pups (he did sing a song to one of the pups), but there were one or two that didn’t mind being hanging out with us. Who can say at this early point, but they’ve got our attention…
One gross of puppies. Actually there are 17 puppies more or less in this picture (some are under the wooden lip)
The Thing with Two Heads (And Two Extra Paws)
The two pups who like hanging around us. The one on the left happily clucked like a chicken while we held her.
The pups are so (relatively) big that poor Hershey (mom) has to stand to feed them. This scene is not nearly as placid as it looks.
Okay it looks like in the pile of puppies – my favorate – B&W with white spot seems to be the one on top of the pile. See, she is the smart one of the group! I’m telling you – she is a keeper.
Oh what joy! A puppy will soon be joining the family.
Happy Ho Ho
 I’m holding Dad’s medal. It’s heavy! |
I’m back from a 2-1/2-day trip to Ottawa to celebrate my Dad’s becoming a Companion of the Order of Canada, which is the highest honour our country can bestow on a citizen. Pretty big deal, so he wanted to invite all his kids to share the day with him. Alas, even after pleading, the Governor General’s protocol people only allowed three extra guests (other than Tara), so the list was pared down to me, Severn and Sarika. Oh yeah, did I mention that this was pretty exciting for me since it would be the first time that I’d spend a night away from Jon since he was born!
I flew into Ottawa mid-morning Thursday. After check-in at the Lord Elgin I had lots of time to kill before the other four got into town, so I spent the day at the War Museum and the Museum of Civilization. The War Museum was interesting; it was ultimately an unrelentingly sober experience (though not as depressing as I thought it’d be). The Museum of Civilization is a spectacular building, and currently has a great exhibition of artifacts from the ancient city of Petra. I spent so long on the Petra show that I had to rush through the regular exhibits, so I don’t really have an opinion on the museum’s content. If I ever get there again it’ll have to be for the whole afternoon.
After the gang checked in we headed off to the Chateau Laurier for dinner and had a blast.
Me, Sari, Tara, Dad and Severn
Friday morning the three of us headed out to Rideau Hall for the investiture (Dad and Tara went with the other honourees—by charter bus!). I think the taxi driver was more excited than us, since he had never driven there before. I got to impressively flash my invitation to the guardhouse to get waved on to the house. Neat!
The ceremony was a bit like graduation—repetitive and somewhat boring except for the one minute that “your” honouree was up. Since Dad was last (being the highest decoration, and the only Companion), we felt it incumbent upon us kids to yell “Wooo!” during the applause. I think people were amused. What were they gonna do, kick us out?
After the ceremony we hobnobbed with the swells, and I shook hands with the amazingly poised and lovely Governor General Michaà«lle Jean. A consummate people person, she has that uncanny ability to talk to anyone as if that person were the most important and interesting person in the world to talk to.
Golfer Lori Kane with the Governor General
Dad and Michaà«lle Jean with Bill Marshall (a former psych professor of mine!) looking on
After drinks and nibblies we toured Rideau Hall and were suitably impressed with the multitude of Canadian artwork hanging everywhere, and the huge greenhouse where they grow all the indoor plants that grace all the official residences:
All of us in greenhouse. By now all our feet are killing us!
That evening the honourees and their spouses went to a swanky dinner at the GG’s; the rest of us were left to our own devices. I met up with Corinne, a friend from college I haven’t seen in eight years:
On Saturday we had some time to kill until we had to get to the airport, so Tara, Sarika and I took a tour of the Parliament building (something I haven’t done in years and Sari has never done.) The library had just been unveiled after four years of restoration, and it’s as lovely as ever (I think by far the most beautiful part of the building).
Parliamentary library, inside and out
In the middle of our tour we got an interesting bonus: The PM and some aides were going up to their offices just as we were in the main hall. Since it was a tiny tour group (just us three, two more guests and the guide), and the hall was otherwise empty, Stephen Harper decided to be chummy and did the photo-op thing, shaking our hands and asking our names and where we were from.
We were nice polite Canadians and just said our (first) names and cities and smiled for the cameras, instead of saying much ruder, but more appropriate words. It’s actually pretty amazing how little charm (as in zero) Harper has in person (unlike most politicians I’ve met, or charm incarnate Ms. Jean), and how stiff this impromptu meeting was. (Mind you, it would’ve been even more amusing to speculate how the meeting would’ve gone if Mr. Environment C.C. himself had been there…) 
At the Ottawa airport by noon, I have to slug back my bottle of water before I’m let through gate security. Oh brother.
All in all, good times had by everyone. Congratulations and thank you Dad!
Wowee! What an amazing weekend! Congrats to your dad, and to you for venturing off on your own after all these years. Your dedication to Jon has me absolutely floored in awe of you. Seriously. You deserve all that and a whole lot more!
I can’t believe you said nothing to Mr. Harper. I bow to your discretion.
Laura, you are officially my hero!
Awesome! Congrats to David (great name, ain’t it?).
I guess this makes Jon a grand-Companion-of-the Order-of-Canada-recipient.
Get it? He’s the good Doctor’s grand-son? Meh, it was funnier in my head.
And you should definitely get back to see the rest of the Museum of Civilization. I spent an entire Saturday afternoon there one day and I couldn’t get enough.
Congratulations to your Dad and your whole famly on the honour he has justly received.
Your visit to the Library of Parliament reminds me of the pleasurable hours I spent their in 1980 in the service of the Director General of the National Arts Centre. I was a Waterloo Co-op student hired to help the NAC prepare for a Royal Commission on the arts ultimately co-chaired by my late mentor, composer Louis Applebaum.
Of all the people you met in Ottawa, Stephen Harper is one who bears the greatest responsibility of all. It is a responsibility that he takes to bed at night, and wakes with every morning.
Nobody is born Prime Minister and there are no schools to teach you how to be one. Stephen Harper, like the men and woman who went before him, has to learn on the job. He would be the first to admit that he’s not perfect. But he’s a young man who learns quickly and is trying hard.
I think many Canadians are pleasantly surprised by how well he’s done so far, in very little time, and with a minority government.
He will get better yet and surprise many more doubters.
Thanks for your good wishes Myles.
A warning to commenters: This isn’t primarily a political blog, but merely a newsletter for family and friends of what we’ve been up to—so it necessarily reflects our view of life, the universe and everything. We’re not trolling for political debate here, and we’re definitely not concerned with giving all political views equal or balanced support. If we find that a comment is—in our opinion—politically obnoxious or insensitive to the views of us, our family or friends, we have no problem with deleting it.
For the time being I will ignore the paean to Harper without comment.
 This is actually an escalator at the airport, not the subway. Yes, it matters to Jon! |
I went on the subway I got to whole foods market I went on the elevater and then I went on the escalator. An escalator is some stairs that move. Do you like to go on an escalator? Yes I do! My dad picked me up and down on the escalator.
I’m about to go to the escalator.
Tonight I am going to watch the old Local Forecast.
Jon
I must admit to harbouring a secret delight with escalators going back, I think, to our family’s first visit to some indoor mall in the 60s, maybe Yorkdale. I don’t think I was afraid, just bemused, and the other people using it were encouraging. I think I went up and down a couple of times myself.
Sometimes, if there’s not a lot of people around, I’ll still run up the down escalator, just for the heck of it!
Some Jon news from the last couple of (eek!) few weeks:
Jon is playing intramural wheelchair hockey at school (he’s on the Canucks). I watched a recess game a week before and it’s nuts. The huge wheelchairs block almost any view of the ball for all but those in the midst of the action. I can’t imagine how Jon will be able to pick this up visually, but he’s had two games so far. They lost the first one, no comment on the second. I’ll get some pictures, but I wanted to let him to get accustomed to the frenzy first.
Jon finished the first half of his Grade 3 reading course and he’s onto the second book. With each textbook in the series, the text gets a bit smaller, the leading (space between lines) a little tighter, the amount of text per page larger and larger. And Jon continues to read it at school without any magnification help from his CCTV! He’s starting to flow whole lines together. It’s really nice. Vision comes and goes, but given that there there is a growing fluidity.
Another first: Jon wanted to try out an escalator the other day. So Laura took the elevator with an empty wheelchair while Jon and I took the escalator. I gave him a bit of quick coaching and on he went with a huge grin on his face. Then he insisted on going back down on the down escalator(harder, since I have to be behind to lift him, and he could span to reach the two handrails) and then back up again, even spontenously jumping at the top transition (I was holding him at that point). No wonder he thought that they’d be selling tickets for it!
Beware of Cruella de Oakville!