sup

Man, last time I wrote I was on the other side of the continent.  Avery had only ever laughed once, and that in her sleep.  And not a single crane had collapsed outside my window.

We had a medium-good few more days in Vancouver.  Marjorie’s cold swung a pretty heavy hammer, and the rest of the family was falling like dominoes.  Avery had a bit of a sniffle, but I’m thinking Mum’s body was doing the work of fighting the cold for both of them, so a little sniffle was as far as it went – nothing the snot sucker couldn’t handle.  And I was feeling better, so Avery and I enjoyed some one on one time for a couple days.  Plenty of snacks – we had to cancel our New Year’s Day social.  All the spinach dip you could ask for!  And sausage rolls!  All mine!

But we did manage to spend some quality time with everyone in the end, even if it wasn’t nearly enough.  I set up the Wii for Gramma Judy, and she schooled Marjorie in the ways of cow racing.  Andrea brought Lucas and Lily over to meet Avery, and they all got along fabulously.  Avery loves kids.  Lucas loves Angry Birds.  And, on our very last day, we met up for lunch with Brian, Karen, Miguel and little Sofia.  Sofia is a stunner of a precocious little charmer.  Gorgeous!  And if you need someone to throw down some high volume Christmas carols?  She’s your girl.

And then it was time to come home.  We were ready.  Looking forward to our own bed.  You know how that can be – we had such a good time with everyone (Gramma Di’s pavlova, the Harrington’s merino wool socks, Santa’s Happy New Beer), but after two weeks and three different beds and three different showers… we were ready for home.

After another good flight with exceptional and outstanding service from the Cathay Pacific attendants, we burrowed into our bed and slept for as long as Avery would let us.  She was pretty understanding and gave us four hours.  Marjorie let me have one more.  She’s sweet that way.  Mostly.

Little Pepper grew while we were away.  She’s stretching even her big 3 month sleepers, and will have to swim a bit in the 6 month sleepers pretty soon.  Her bassinet will be retired just as soon as the new crib is delivered.  I don’t think she’s claustrophobic, but she doesn’t go down easy if she’s in there.  A bit of a flailer.  Trying to fly?  High speed semaphore?

And she’s ever more alert.  It’s hard to describe, but there’s more comprehension behind those eyes all the time.  She’s reading at a third-grade primate level, fluently using all four limbs:

She’s starting to purposefully reach for things now, and when she holds something, she’ll take an interest in how it feels and tastes.  Oh yeah, must taste.

And just today she laughed while Marjorie was playing with her.  It was small, but unmistakeable.  Naturally we spent the next ten minutes trying to coax another out of her, but she only smiled good-naturedly and offered us some more semaphore.  Tonight Marjorie got a few more proto-giggles out of her, but I suppose there shouldn’t be any rush.  We thrill with each new discovery, but there’s a part of me that looks, with just a brush stroke of sadness, at how much more real estate she takes up in that bunny swing than she did three months ago.  Sigh.

To distract me from futile melancholy, a crane collapsed right outside our window this afternoon.  It was really frickin loud.  Very crashy.

The emergency crews were there in minutes.  Very impressive.  I guess in this town, if you cry “crashed crane”, they come a-runnin’.  Thirty-five stories of crane popped a pin or something, and crumpled straight down.  You can see the bundle of lumber they were lifting toward the bottom right.  I heard, depending on your news source, that six or eleven people were injured, all workers on the site, but no deaths.  With all the activity on the job site, that’s pretty lucky.  At any given moment there are easily a dozen guys working on the upper deck.  It’s possible that there wasn’t anyone underneath on the ground level.  Pretty lucky.

This on the same day that a ferry rammed the dock in Lower Manhattan at speed, injuring 55 (one critically).

Meanwhile, Governor Cuomo gave a rousing State of the State speech, promising an equality act for women, an overhaul of gun regulation, sweeping improvements to storm-preparedness infrastructure and many other things that felt great to hear.  His administration put it all down in a 300+ page book, which should make it pretty easy to make him accountable this time next year.

So, happy new year.  Count your blessings.  Count them again.  Shell out a few meaningful hugs.  You have your health.  You have your life.  It’s easy to take it all for granted.  Because we are all immortal, right?  Each of us the star of our own movie.  Now if only we had final edit on the script…

That’s it?  That’s all the pictures from 4 days on the island with the Taverner clan?  Apparently so.

We left the happy zoo at Jeremy & Jody’s in plenty of time to catch the 3pm ferry from Horseshoe Bay on Christmas Day. Avery slept most of the trip, naturally, and Grampa Bob picked us up on the other side.  The boat wasn’t too busy – probably people able to steal only a day from work, and people like us who split Xmas into two parties.  And a few who don’t do Christmas, I’m sure.

We got to Chateau Taverner in time for cocktails, as planned.  Beer, really.  We would find out later that the house had zero required ingredients for caesars!  If we had known, we might not have made the trip!  But since we were there, beer did us just fine.  And then stockings!  And then presents!  Liam had big eyes for his Perplexus, and Wyatt greeted his Hulk Smash Fists with awe and reverence.

The cousins all love each other.  Avery was endlessly entertained just watching their compact tornado.  Wyatt wasn’t entirely sure what to do with her, so he showed her his karate moves.  Liam was entirely fascinated by her, however.  He wanted to know how much it would cost to buy her so he could take her home.  I was willing to start the conversation with a trade for his new iPad, but Marjorie was having none of it.  Not to be shut out completely, he said, “Well then maybe I will marry her.”

That kid has moxie, and charm for miles.

In visits past, we would play a game after the lads went down.  Dominoes or Farkle, usually.  Always good for some friendly competition and social beveraging.  This time, however, we were all done in by, oh, I don’t know, 10pm.  Shocking.  But Christmas Day is always a long day, right?  We would stay up and play games the next night.

Boxing Day was quietly social – after breakfast we managed to get out of the house by 12:30 or so for our morning walk.  Our morning walk consisted of driving down the highway to Boston Pizza for lunch, then to the community center so the lads could get some skating in.  Robyn went in with them while the rest of us picked up some groceries, and then we watched.  Liam made sure we didn’t feel left out on the other side of the glass.  Thanks, little buddy.

There must have been some exercise in there somewhere, because the whole clan was bushed by 10:30.  We’d play games the next night.

Then I got sick.  5am holy moley.  Don’t know what.  A stomach virus of some sort.  I didn’t care for it.  No sir.  I would offer some detail, but I like you.  So I missed the entire next day.  That was going to be the day of finding some adventure and taking pictures. Instead the high point of my day was sitting up straight in bed for twenty minutes while considering the epic journey upstairs to join everybody.  Then I sagged over sideways and fell asleep again.  Boo.  I dragged myself out of bed at 8:30 that night to say goodnight and goodbye to clan Harrington, all leaving before the sun came up the next morning. What a rip off.  If there’s a lesson, it’s carpe diem.

Hopefully, Paul can send me some pictures of what I missed.

I’m recovering, consoled with the knowledge that we’re going to try to wrangle a massive gathering this summer, with the clans Taverner, Harrington, and Phillips.  That will be quite a village.  Marjorie and Robyn are already researching suitable locations.

We stayed an extra day with my folks to give my bod a chance to pull itself together, with the nice bonus that they got some more Avery time.

On the ferry ride back, Avery happened to be awake when we crossed Georgia Strait.  Suddenly, we were surrounded by dozens of dolphins!  More than dozens!  Lots!  I’ve seen a few killer whales from the ferry in the past, but nothing like this wildlife show.  They stayed with us for half the crossing, bolting back & forth across the bow wave.  Very neat, made more surreal by the strange weather.  We were between systems, and the low clouds were all patches of bright sharp silver and deep soft indigo.  A painter could go mental trying to capture it all.  Super Natural British Columbia™.

And now we’re settled in at Grampa David’s home in Horseshoe Bay.  I’m almost back to normal, but Marjorie’s catching a cold.  Wha?!

The fireplace gets lots of use here, and it turns out Avery loves watching the fire.  Her first meeting was rapturous.  She smiled as big as she could smile, and watched for an hour.  She’ll be a fine camper.  It’s New Year’s Eve, we have a big cheery fire, and we just finished a massive spaghetti feast with a pepper sausage sauce made by me.  Now… just under four hours til midnight Pacific time.  I wonder if we could get away with a NYC midnight?  Are we old?  I blame the health.  Are we old?

So.  How was your 2012?  Goals reached?  Dreams achieved?  Adventures… adventured?  My year was considerably more awesome than anticipated.  A year ago, Marjorie and I were still buzzing from our honeymoon and had just decided to try for a baby.  The company was looking at some very big deals and feeling a bit overawed.  Chaos Complex had resolved to take charge of its own destiny.  And I was a bad, bad blogger.  When I posted at all, it was mostly to lament how much I wasn’t blogging even while relishing the company’s success.  My first post in 2012 wasn’t until April 5, when I told the world that daddyhood was knocking on my door.

2012 was a big one for me.  Biggest yet.  That’s going to be a tough one to top.  I may have to change the criteria to make the game fair for future years.  Chaos is anticipating large things.  TimeSquared Software is also at the gate.  And Fuel is even now charging through big shiny gates of its own.  The company, well, the companies are looking good.  And then there’s Avery Peppermint, right?  Insert twelve pages of Adrian waxing poetic about the little miracle that blew his life up.

Avery is bursting with health and happiness.  She’s sharp and alert, she loves being part of anything that’s going on.  She’s got a huge year ahead of her.  Every day will be new discoveries.  I don’t want to miss a single one.  There’s some figuring out to be done with the work schedule – she deserves as much of our time as we can give, but somebody has to swing the hammer that builds the empire that buys the pony for a little girl’s 8th birthday.

We’re lucky.  Fuel is an exceptional employer.  Everyone loves Avery and wants to be flexible.  It’s that kind of willingness to engage that inspires fanatical loyalty in employees, in case you are an employer and wondering.  And fanatic loyalty means higher productivity, fewer sick days, and zero “taking advantage”.  Nobody steals the stapler around here, is what I’m saying.

What would it take to make you quit your job?

While we were on the ferry back to Van, I watched a mother and child walk past.  She just had her fingers out for him to cling to, and if he was a year old he was still a tiny kid.  So I reckon that’s what I have to look forward to this year.  Avery is going to cling to my fingers and we’re going to walk the length of the ferry.  Or Gantry Park.

10:30pm.  An hour and a half left in 2012.  Did I remember to turn off the stove?

We’re here at M’s dad’s place.  I’m upstairs with Kathleen and David, watching Beasts of the Southern Wild.  M is downstairs with Avery.  Little Pepper was very stubborn about going to sleep tonight.  Just couldn’t unwind.  And M’s cold has moved in properly so she’s staying in bed.  A quiet NYE?  Yep.  Nothing wrong with that.  As Kathleen said, we’ve had all kinds, and not all of them worthy of the remembering.  I am a substantially different person than the dj mischiff who started this blog in 2002.  Just as he was night & day compared to the shy nerd who broke out (way out) of Prince George in 1989.  Some NYEs were epic, and some of those in a good way.

Someone once asked me, rhetorically, I suppose, what the big deal was about New Year’s.  What’s the actual celebration?  Are we surprised we made it?  Happy to put it behind us?  Trying to convince the next year that we’re fun to be around?  What’s New Year’s?  I never really thought about it.  It’s a bookmark.  People love bookmarks, and a collective opportunity to start fresh has its appeal.  What more have we ever needed?  Some people like to ride that collective energy as high as it will take them.  That can be fun.  But tonight in Horseshoe Bay is just as relevant as Times Square.  Depending on your priorities, perhaps moreso.

New Year’s Resolutions?  Never had much use for them.  To trip over a cliche, change comes from within.  If using a nice big bookmark works for you, keep doing that.  Traditionally, I suck at grand manifestos.  I do better with a crazy big fundamental goal like, “love thyself” and tinkering away at figuring out what that means for a decade or so.  If you were going to ask me, I believe that’s the only legitimate way to change.  It takes time, and work, and nobody can do it for you.  I also think that if more people really could find their way to loving themselves, with self respect and everything else that entails, the world would be an immeasurably better place.  We’d certainly do a better job of looking out for each other.

So.  Any resolutions this year?  Be excellent to each other is a good one.  Start with yourself, and let the rest follow.

Hey.  Look at that.  It’s 2013.  Hi there.

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.