Wet Coast Christmas

Let’s get this out of the way right off the bat.  Christmas Eve.  A convicted felon – convicted of the manslaughter of his paternal grandmother, btw – obtains a semi-automatic rifle, lights his house on fire to lure emergency teams, and shoots them as they arrive.  Two dead, two hospitalized.  Dear NRA: Can you please stop fucking around and finally admit there is room for discussion on the topic of gun control?  Assholes.  My right to life far, far outstrips your right to compensate for your tiny penii.

Not a great note with which to come back to the blog, but it could hardly be helped.

Let’s bring the focus a little closer to home.  And happy.  My new boots are very happy:

Thank you, my darling wife.  Even if you did it just to shut me up pining for them for the last year.  I love you.

The family Taverner made the journey to Vancouver without mishap.  Avery was in a great mood when we boarded, making friends, and Marjorie’s timely feeding kept her ears clear during takeoff.  Cathay Pacific’s bulkhead row has a flop-down bassinet shelf, so once we were up, she went down.  She slept almost the entire flight, which means we snatched a bit of a nap as well.  When we had to pick her up because of turbulence, it was feeding time again.  Nice.  And the next time she woke up, we were starting our descent and everybody was waking up anyway.  Perfecto.

Grampa David picked us up in the van, which was necessary with three large suitcases, the stroller, the computer bag, the camera bag, and the diaper bag.  We are no longer the masters of travelling light.  Thank you, Grampa David!  Pretty sure we would have needed two of Vancouver’s darling little Prius taxis.

While we’re thanking people, Kathleen moved herself out of the condo for a week so we’d have a family-sized place to sleep, and that’s so very very appreciated.  And Gramma Judy wrangled a crib (via beloved family friend Belinda) and a swing.  I believe I have stressed to you the vital importance of a swing.  Gramma rules!

So far, Avery loves Vancouver.  Fresh air, birds singing in the trees, and loads of people lining up to shower her with affection.  Between brunches, lunches and dinners, she’s been passed around more than the salt.  She’s been all smiles for most of it, and ready to chat anybody’s ears off.  My cheeks are growing biceps from the workout.  Luckily there is beer.

Avery met her future husband, assuming Marjorie and Christie have their way – Christie’s handsome little fella Levi, just eight months older.  He’s got blue eyes exceeded in size only by his cheeks.

 

So many new faces!  But she was up for it.  Her first Christmas has so far been full of warm wonderful family love.

Side note: a year and three months down the road, the wedding cake has not improved in flavour.

We had our obligatory bites, reflected on the amazing marriage that we share, and let that sucker go.  It’s been long enough that I can say it now – that was not a good red velvet cake.  Don’t get me wrong – it was a fantastic looking thing, and it served its purpose with suitable grandeur, but there’s something about that hint of gasoline that never really did it for me.  Ah well, what the cake lacked in edibility the marriage has more than made up for in love.

Tomorrow morning Avery will wake us a little after 7, and then Grampa David will pick us up a little before 8:30 to take us to the other Phillips household – Jeremy, Jody, Ruby, Sonja and Mack are having everyone (everyone!) over for Christmas morning.  It’s a big bursting-at-the-seams happy zoo.  Being such a tiny man, I’ll get myself as much out of the way as possible and watch the chaos.  Someone will bring me prosecco, or perhaps even coffee with Baileys.

And then, after brunch, we’re off to visit the island Taverners.  Robyn, Paul, Liam and Wyatt are already there with Grampa Bob and Gramma Di after surviving the treacherous Coquihalla highway.  We’ll catch the 3pm ferry and be there in time for cocktails.  Giggidy.

Adrian Taverner – family man and loving it.  Who knew.  Maybe some of you knew.  I didn’t know.  Now I know.  A lot.  The Wet Coast it may be, but it’s all sunshine up in here.