Mackenzie House

I hate to be one of those mothers that goes on and on about her kids, but if you have ever spent any time with mine, you would get it.

My dear Mr. Bobo never complains. And I mean EVER. I promised him I would go on a field trip with his class to Mackenzie House. That little fella was nothing short of proud to have me along (Princess does not suffer this). Things were going along quite swimmingly. We spent some time in the victorian print shop, then went to the basement to do a little Virginia Reel - complete with costumes. That's when things turned a little ugly and some poor kid in his class started vomiting. Despite the attendance of many parents, I somehow got roped into taking him home (okay, I volunteered) I don't think any other parents really wanted to, as they did not want to upset their own kids by leaving them. I pulled Mr. Bobo aside and explained the situation. I told him I had to bail on the trip, but his buddy was sick and needed my help. It is quite possible it was tearing him apart inside, but he gave me a hug and told me he would be okay. I handed him his lunch and we parted ways.

He is only 8, but always seems to get the bigger picture. I know many adults who still don't. I'm gonna spoil him silly once we land in Florida - how can I resist?

Self Portrait

Well, not exactly a self portrait, but probably more flattering than how I have been looking lately. December just knocks the wind out of me. I know it is busy for everybody, but piling two kids birthdays on top of all the holiday festivities always adds to the craziness. Having said that, I wouldn't trade the December babies I have for any others. Not ever. There were so many highs this month..... I can't tell you the pride I felt when Princess asked if she could take Mr. Bobo out on a date for his birthday. She wouldn't even consider taking money from us as she felt it all needed to come from her. She is now 15 and is probably the BEST teenager a mother could hope for. Mr. Bobo is now 8. He took this picture with his new camera. He has been smiling from ear to ear for the past few weeks. Having kids around for Christmas just adds such a wonderous dimension to life doesn't it? Another great moment came this month when a friend of mine called with a very generous offer to bail out the food bank in our neighbourhood... it was slated to close after the holidays. No words can express my gratitude. It is moments like those that melt away all the bad stuff that may be sticking to you. Thank you N. You are truly a star.

A Memory

Last week my city hosted the Grey Cup. The cost of security for the coveted cup was all over the news, and CBC reported how the CFL had sprung for a helicopter to fly the trophy into the city to ensure it's safety. I had to smile as I listened to the report and remembered how the cup sat in various spots around our home one summer in the 70's. My sister even dragged it over to some friends home who didn't believe we had it and they almost fell over when they saw it. Somewhere in my parents cache of photos are pictures of us standing proudly with it. It then triggered a memory of a dear family friend. His name was Bobby Simpson. He lived around the corner from us. He and his wife Mary were good friends of my parents, and I knew his daughter. It was because of his friendship with our family that the cup landed on Barnes Crescent. I had not thought about Bob for years, but I thought of thim that Grey Cup weekend and and wondered how he and his family were doing.

I got a call from my mother this week informing me that Bobby had passed away. I think he was just shy of his 78th birthday. Bobby Simpson was an amazing football player. He played for the Ottawa Rough Riders back in the day when the CFL was a big deal (well bigger than today). I didn't see him play, because he had retired by the time I started frequenting the games with my father. Bobby was a big man. He had the biggest hands I have ever seen and a loud, booming voice. You could always hear him coming a block away. There was great excitement when he entered a room and his laugh was infectious. But Bobby also had a big heart, and for that I will remember him most. He used to come to our home on the 24th of December dressed as Santa Claus, bellowing Merry Christmas to all and gathering us up in his large arms. We looked forward to his arrival.

I am sorry for Bobby's passing, and today I think of his family and the great loss they must be feeling... I can only hope they find peace in the knowledge that he brought so much joy to so many folks, including a young girl who lived around the corner.