Rain, Rain, Go Away!

In the last 72 days it has rained 56. What a grey, damp, and dreary, fall this has been. It's certainly hard to keep up our spirits and even harder to get into the garden to work. I took advantage of a break in the rain on Wednesday and spent 2 1/2 hours outside cleaning out flower beds. Then 1 hour on Thursday on the massage table working out the knots. Only 2 beds left - that's the good news. One is the biggest of them all - that's the bad news. But it's fun to see what's there and plan for next year. It turns out that I am the proud owner of a sacred plant! The Datura has hallucegenic and aphrodisiac properties. Parts of it can be used to induce catatonic states (anyone want to make a Zombie?) and the leaves can be rolled and smoked to alleviate asthma attacks. As my friend Susan says, apparently we've inherited some "wacky tobaccy". Who knew??

Pete has been busy getting the garage ready for winter and this week managed to get both cars in to winterize them. Then he sat in his camp chair, opened a beer, and surveyed his handywork. He is in the garage every night. The attraction? His workbench, his stereo, his Sunshine calendar, oh, and the beer fridge. He's one happy fellow.

All the Lawley men seem to be happy these days. Lots of grins, laughs, and jokes on the day of the reunion at Mom and Dad's in Port Perry. We had a great turn-out. Everyone but Gary and family, Hope and Gregg, and Matt. Lots of kids (make that boys, poor Courtney. Without Sydney, she was sorely outnumbered), and lots of noise. Pete and I spent the night and had a lovely time - thanks to such wonderful hosts. Sarah and Steve and boys stayed at the Sandman Motel, so has Gene Hackman by the way, and they also had a great night. The boys fell promptly to sleep and managed to sleep-in until 5:30 am - sheesh. At breakfast, a customer stopped to compliment Sarah and Steven. She said that they should be proud to have such well mannered and well behaved children. Sarah said the boys just beamed! We look forward to when Liam is old enough to take to these events and not be worried about him eating something that will trigger an allergic reaction. It's too dangerous now. He eats everything he sees, even non-food items! Oh, and I can't not mention how much fun the MEN had playing with all Great Grandpa Syd's handcrafted wooden toys. They know quality when they see it. What a magnificent job done on the motorcyle rocker - Dad building and Mom painting - what a talented duo!

As I write this, the MEN (short for Max, Ethan, and Nick) are in the garage playing ball hockey with Grandpa Pete. This is our first sleepover with the 3 boys. Sarah and Steve are going to a Christmas Party (they start the season earlier and earlier every year). The guys have been great so far, they've played Nintendo, built a fort in their bedroom, eaten a wonderfully nutritious supper of hot dogs, potato chips, and ice cream and in a bit we are going to do some painting. All this in less than 3 hours! I think that we'll all sleep well tonight. And for Pete and I, this is the best gift ever. This is he reason we moved. To be able to be with the grandkids and be a part of their lives - you can't wipe the grin off our faces (well except for when Pete took a direct hit to his family jewels, but that doesn't count) - is such a gift and blessing. My friend Anne and her husband Tim dropped by for a visit on Wednesday and she wrote to say that both noticed how much younger and happier Pete and I look. She said I have a twinkle in my eye and no, it's not my Datura seeds! I am happy. And very content.

On the job front, no paid work but I do have an opportunity to do some very valuable volunteer work at the Children's Hospital here in Ottawa. I have met with the Director but don't expect the paperwork to be done until January. I'll keep you all posted. So, off to paint Christmas stockings with my MEN. I hope everyone reading this is well and managing to stay cheerful despite the weather. As our friend jake says, at least the trees are happy. Take care, be well, adieu until next time,
Deb