Mark's parents left this morning, so the house seems particularly quiet, like it always does after a visit is over. I hate that empty feeling. They'd been here since Thursday afternoon; this is a stop on their annual snowbird migration to Arizona. The visit coincided with Liam's fall break week and some perfect fall weather and that made for a nice walk on Friday.
There's a park system near here that has the paved path required for wheelchairs but also a little trail that runs parallel perfect for little ones that might otherwise get run down by speeding bikes. Can you see that both kids are carrying largish peices of dry wood? We have to go back; the Platt River runs to the right of this picture and we found a "secret" staircase down to its banks that must be explored further.
Anyway, Mark's parents downsized to a condo this year. They were living in a big and beautiful Victorian in the South End of Halifax, the house Mark thinks of as his childhood home, full of antiques and artwork, collections of china and pigs (and probably china pigs), colorful and cozy and welcoming all at once. I adored that house and it brakes my heart a little bit that my kids won't know it. But the narrow hallways were difficult to navigate in a wheelchair and the upkeep was getting to be a pain. It was really sad, but they felt it was time. And, since the condo is much smaller...well, all the stuff just doesn't fit. The point: they brought some of their treasures for us.
Check out these plates I'm in love with. They belonged to Mark's grandmother and, since I adore all things snowflake, Mary thought I'd like them. There are sixteen of the plates, with four different snowflake patterns, but oddly, not four of each one.
And they brought a stack of artwork. Here's one of my favorites, and the first to make it to a wall (our family room seems to be developing a bird theme):
It's a mezzotint called Ornamental Birds by Kath Kornelsen Rutherford, an artist who I got to meet back when I worked at the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia; all through high school and part of university I worked in their fantastic store (if you're ever in the neighborhood...). I adore her work and we had two already; now we have four. I'm pretty happy about that. Here's the other:
Can you spot the cat? (It's called Camouflage.)
Now I'm motivated to get the rest of our pictures up, which is always the hardest thing to do after a move, I think. We had some stragglers already and now it's completely out of hand.
But back to the visit. What Mark and I always do with his parents is play games. Mark and I are a game-night-loving couple; you either are or you aren't. Before we had kids, Mark's sister and her husband lived right down the block from us. On weekend nights we'd get into comfy flannels and sweats, grab a bottle of wine or six-pack (or two), and settle around their coffee table for anything from Pictionary (at which I ROCK) to Cranium. But now that we have kids, we don't have those evenings nearly as often. I suppose there's no reason not to invite over another family, dress the kids in their 'jamas, pop some 'corn, and stick in a movie until all the kids drift off (in theory, at least).
Sooooo, when we're with Mark's parents, we are happiest playing games each night and they always have a new one to show us. Last year it was Mexican Train Dominoes; this time was a card game called Hand and Foot. Add a bottle of wine and a little Hallowe'en candy snuck from the kids' bags (yes, it's accumulating already), and you've got a damn good evening.
And it occurred to me that soon our children will be old enough for our very own family game nights, and that has me very excited. Bobby also taught Liam Tiddlywinks with our box o' buttons (is there anything buttons can't do?) and we can play that in the meantime.
So Bobby and Poppa left this morning to continue their migration, leaving two sad little grandkids behind. And me in search of the picture-hanging kit.
