Frost-ee the snow-mound...

Today we finally got Aidan* a good dose of snow—how cold it is, how you can make a snowman (in more powdery times called a Snow-mound), and how the cold, once settled in, takes a while to root itself back out of your body. Alas, we had an hour drive home, and I do believe he claimed his feet to be cold the entire time. Poor Aidan. Luckily, once we were home, Uncle Trevor took a 2nd crack at building a fire in the magnificent stone fireplace and cold feet no more!

Hanging out with Aidan is really awesome. He invites you to get excited with him, about the fire, about the sliding properties of the hard wood floor—this summer, we spent a good 15 minutes pointing out groups of three candles all over his backyard. I went around for the next week, whenever I was feeling happy, I would hear a little voice in my head, “THREE CANDLES! THREE CANDLES!” Honestly, they’re like, everywhere, those three candles.

Part of what is so amazing about Aidan is how much he’s grown over the past few months. He’s become really observant (“Trevor, be careful of the fire!”, “Gravity is round!”), articulate even. And on this trip, I’ve heard him say thank you for everything. And what was positively mystifying was how I was not in attendance at the sledding expedition, and then somehow reappeared in the car on the way home. (I tried to tell him I flew in; he didn’t buy it. I tried to tell him it was magic, no go. Plain ol’ “I opened the door, sat down, and put on my seat belt”, seemed to be the most effective. Ah me, the honesty.

Now we are in the quiet time, where Aidan is at his bath, Richard & Cathlene have gone to bed, and Trevor has stolen my book club book. What am I to do, but write a blog, you see! OK, and I guess maybe look for a job too. Maybe more on that in the next issue. Ciao for niao!

*For the uninformed, Aidan is Trevor’s nephew, #1 son, as it were, of Trevor’s sister Celine. He is 3 1/2 and a big boy. We know this because he has big boy pants, and he crushes Trevor. (At 3 1/2, this is not so much “crush” as it is a light weight encumbering one’s limbs, but still, for all intents & purposes a big boy.)