We went to see the latest in the Harry Potter franchise last week: Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows, Part 1.
First show. First day.
I bought the tickets before I went to Seattle. I stuck them on the shelf above my desk, showed everyone (in the event of a house fire so FDPG could grab them on the way out, because she WOULD do this for a HP movie), and left for Seattle, promptly and very idiotically forgetting where I'd put them. Every so often I'd pause, in the middle of a Williams Sonoma, or a Target, or a Macy's (had to check out Martha's new line of housewares), and angst over what I'd done with them,
because they weren't in my wallet where I'd left them.
Yes, snigger all you like. Fortunately I have come to terms with this highly irritating personality quirk of mine, because I have a personal assistant named FDPG, who remembers
everything and
anything I say or do.
"
Mum, you hid Dad's Christmas presents under your bed in that green box."
"
Mum, you left your car keys in your green raincoat."
"
Mum, the library CDs are in the van - we have to return them today."
"
Mum, last night you said we could have the rest of that chocolate cake for breakfast."
(I did?)
Luckily when I got home and asked her, FDPG knew exactly where they were and all I had to do was get everyone to the movie theatre at 10am the next day. This meant we would have 1 hour and 45 minutes of Official Line Up Time.
We'd seen Half Blood Prince the previous summer and it had been bedlam, considering that all us nice polite Canadians were lined up in three sections then set loose on one set of doors. I was not going to do that again. So I loaded some episodes of Doctor Who on my new iTouch (birthday present from He Who Buys New Computers And Donates The Freebies To His Spouse), popped a few ziplocks of popcorn, and off we went to the cinema.
It was really cold.
There were only three kids in the line-up. Mine.
Everyone else asked us at least 20 zillion times if they were skipping school. After the 20th time I started saying "Yes."
Then some odd man leapt out of a car with a cape and a wizard's hat on and, in a very charming English accent, asked FDPG if she wanted to talk to a person on the radio. Ha, that's like asking a drowning man if he'd like a life preserver. He handed the cell to her and she discussed everything she'd liked about all the previous movies, including details as to length, cast, bits left out, etc, to a DJ named Angie on the other end. The man in the cape and hat gaped at her a bit, then asked me how old she was. "Nine," I said. "Wow," he said, "she's a good talker."
Yup. She sure is.
Finally the movie staff took pity on us, probably because it was
freezing cold outside, and opened the doors. Unlike the last time we streamed in fairly sedately. I decided I quite liked adult geeks; they are nothing if not meek. Max had his ticket and instructions to run ahead of us and snag 4 seats in my Preferred Seating Area. The excitement was palpable.
So we sat through seven commercials (telephones, pop, soap, banks, and internet connections), five previews (Cowboys & Aliens, Green Hornet, TRON Legacy, Green Lantern, Red Riding Hood) and just when we thought we were nearing the start of the movie, the manager walked in and said "We're having a slight problem with the machines. Please sit tight and we'll try to get it sorted as soon as possible."
It was enough to make us all laugh a little, in disbelief. "What does this mean?" Dominic asked. "Aren't they going to show us the movie?" I felt vaguely sick in the pit of my stomach. The people in the theatre all turned as one and stared at the man in the projection room, who was fiddling with the movie tapes. He waved and smiled politely (we
are Canadian, after all).
Eventually, they fixed the machines and we all settled in. Rufus Scrimgeour opens the movie, in the form of Bill Nighy, intoning as only Bill Nighy can: "These are dark days." Then the story cuts to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, all in various grim stages of Preparing To Hunt The Horcruxes.
Kenneth Turan has said that this movie is solid and dependable and unsurprising, and it is, but unlike Mr Turan I don't see it as a negative because I had two little kids in tow (and I still haven't forgotten Max's reaction to Goblet of Fire when he was 8, I was not expecting those last 20 minutes
at all and neither was he). It's also quite long, clocking in at around two and a half hours; I know this because the man below me kept checking the time on his iPhone (
note to man with iPhone: I now know your name & password because I saw you punch it into your keypad, you idiot).
As with the other movies in the series, time passes quickly in Potterville. I had some fun picking out the scenes we'd seen in the previews. I was sorry not to see more of the old stalwarts from the earlier films: the Dursleys (esp. after hearing that
Dudley had to wear padding because he'd lost weight), Tonks, Fred & George, McGonnagle, even Lucius. And while I do love Rhys Ifans he seemed far too young to be Luna's father. But seeing Snape as trails of oh-so-graceful black smoke, then a spell-snapping ultra-cool grouch, streaming into the Malfoy's mansion
almost made up for it. I might even have sighed aloud, along with all the other women in the theatre. I will be forever grateful that this franchise was not allowed to germinate in the Hollywood Machine; some actors are so good they hardly need spoken lines and Alan Rickman is one of them. There are others, too, but they barely have any scenes this time round, and that perhaps is my one quibble: there isn't enough screen time for some of the real heavy weights this series started with. Not that I want a Part 3...
But it's really only a quibble. There is a lot of action, some impressively atmospheric scenery, some Adam Ant-ish bother boys (the Snatchers), and lots of semi-comic semi-adult action (David O'Hara as Runcorn but really Harry as Runcorn, Ron being kissed by Reg Cattermole's wife while the real Reg Cattermole looks on). There are two scenes the entire theatre jumped at, one involving Bathilda Bathhurst. If you've read the book you'll know what I'm talking about; if you haven't, well, it involves a honkin' big snake, some dark corners, and some flies. In fact, all the scenes I jumped at involved the snake. She has a habit of ending the scenes rather, err, abruptly.
It's a grim movie now that I think about it, well, as grim as a kid-friendly Harry Potter movie peopled by excellent actors can possibly be. Voldemort isn't around much but his presence pervades the movie as a sort of literal gray pall, from his gray robes and the gray air in the chamber, finding echoes in Wormtail's silver hand, the silver candlabra in the Malfoy house, the grim interior of the Black house, and the constant gray weather outside. It's all quite oppressive. And when the film ends, and I won't tell you where it does, you are almost shell-shocked. Almost. Another journey with Harry and Friends is over, but you aren't left entirely wanting, because there's always Part 2 to look forward to.
Some of us just had a birthday. 
It's hard to keep kids from bouncing off the walls this close to Christmas, so in an effort to protect my paint job, I am keeping everyone busy.
Some of us have been making soap.
And some of us are making boxes. These are the perfect shape for a bar of homemade chocolate bark.
Like this!
One thing I did try to organize more this year was the Activity Side of Things. Most of the time I leave the kids to their own crafty devices, but this year the bookstores had their shelves full of really intriguing craft books, and both FDPG and Dominic love making things out of paper. So in November, even though it seemed MUCH too early to be thinking about such things, I bought one or two and squirrelled them away in the closet for later.
When I saw that she had a book out I couldn't resist it. I even bought two, so that I wouldn't be hearing things like "MUUUM! Dominic made the Nutcracker - I wanted to!"
...Even a Santa and his sleigh (check out the gimlet eye on that reindeer).
The other book I bought was a Dover Stained Glass Activity book. I really like these stained glass books - they look amazing on a window. A while back FDPG did every single page of the Egyptian Stained Glass Activity book (the words Egypt and stained glass don't look right together, do they?) and stuck them up on her window. Now here's a Christmas Stained Glass book. It's been quite the hit.
Another thing the twins like to make are these: we call them Tinfoil Saran Wrap pictures. I know, I know, how imaginative of us. But it describes them perfectly.
Sharpies are also useful on those balloon-style pop bottles you might find yourself purchasing in moments of fond maternal madness (these hit me right about now, just when my kids really need more sugary junk). Here we've made some oversized ornaments. You can drill a hole in the lid and place some rick rack for a loop for the Faux Real Effect...
And then there's the Personalized Christmas Card For Favoured Relatives. FDPG made these this week. That giant pack of scrapbooking paper I bought half price at Walmart last year came in handy, as did some Martha Stewart snowflake punches and a ruler that makes circles (for the snowglobe card below).
Then she layered. And layered. (I might have helped here a little)
Then we got some snowman ribbon, found another printable tag, and lookee here what we can do. We made us a nice present.
This is a gaucho nutcracker, at least, I think it is. Doesn't he look as though he belongs out on the pampas somewhere? He's got great pants, anyhow. I bought him in San Diego a long time ago, when Richard and I still found it wildly amusing to attend MLA conferences. I actually bought him as a gift, but when I got home I was too attached to him and his shiny green pants. There is something about him that screams I AM AN AMAZING GAUCHO. I like a nutcracker with that kind of confidence.
Here's another nutcracker - a Victorian chimney sweep. He came as part of a set I bought in the US last year. He was accompanied by an Uncle Sam nutcracker, of all things. Normally I am a big fan of most things American, but this Uncle Sam nutcracker was a hard sell. I tried to imagine us Canadians manufacturing Canadian People nutcrackers but I couldn't: we're all far too embarrassed by evident displays of patriotism to do such things. We Canadians are a wallflowery lot. The nearest we get to patriotism is making silly movies about curling. Or watching a man in bizarre coats talk about hockey on national television. Embedding coins in centre ice during Olympic events, even.
Here's my ancient Burgermeister Meisterburger. I bought him with babysitting money when I was in my teens. He's small and wooden, but he too packs a lot of attitude. When Dominic first saw him he said "Why is that man smoking?" I thought about all the relatives I had that had smoked, and how none of Dominic's relatives smoke, and didn't quite know what to say, other than the banal "People used to smoke a lot back then." It seems a long way from those days. Gave me a pang of nostalgia.
A skiing snowman. Who doesn't like a snowman who can ski? He's another babysitting money purchase, and has a charming little gold tag on his bum that says MADE IN KOREA. Now that's old.
Some time ago I started giving the kids an ornament each year on the day we put up the tree. I tried to find themes that had caught them up each year: birding obsessions (Stellar's Jays), LEGO, Webkinz, even junk food. The theory was that we would have fun each Christmas as we pulled out all these moments of fond maternal madness, but the kids had other ideas: that the ornaments would be theirs to play with all through the year. So we wrangled pleasantly about this until 
So there you have it. Ornamental memories, 2010.
We had some friends over today, and we decorated cookies: trees and gingerbread men. You might not be able to tell from this angle, but these cookies were 7" high. I would have had pictures of the gingerbread men but they were all in such a state of disarray when I brought the camera in I didn't think I could present them properly. Poor men.
Here we are three years later. The twins are still rushing around being extremely excited, writing letters and exhorting the Webkinz Collective to keep watch for A Sighting, while Max has definitely passed that boundary between Believing & Wondering and is now firmly in the rather more melancholic Wishing He Still Believed But Feeling Vastly More Mature section of life, not that that means anything when it comes to leaving his shoes filled with carrots. 
Not that that means anything in terms of not getting his chocolate Sinterklaas and Swarte Piet, either.
Well, perhaps the title should be Fly Vs. Hummingbird. Normally this is a Hummingbird Only feeder, but with the recent cold snap they've been duking it out a bit. Hummingbird is a wildly territorial bird and the spot you see Fly sitting on is Hummingbird's Spot. Hummingbird's spot. His very own spot. This is no small thing. Hummingbird did not take kindly to this usurpation. He buzzed Fly. At first Fly was spooked, but familiarity eventually bred contempt and now Fly sits here, as you can see, no doubt driving poor Hummingbird mad with irritation.
This is how the extremely tender plants are surviving the cold snap: Old fashioned Christmas lights. The lemon trees aren't in this particular greenhouse (they have an all-green string) but it's the same general idea. Keeps the air from freezing.
Here's a picture looking out my bedroom window not 2 minutes ago. And we apparently set a record yesterday: Coldest Day on Record (- 10.5ºC).
It looks rather defeated now, though, don't you think? I felt compelled to memorialize it. Here on the Wet Coast it's not unusual in the least to have roses blooming in November, but today I felt for this rose because it was Seriously Cold. There I was last week, picking the last of the raspberries. Today I was slithering down the driveway in the car, wondering why the heck I couldn't be one of those people who is more organized 
Aged Christmas Lights Acting Very Jane Austen Heroine-ishly
And although it was Horrifically Cold, the kids were desperate to go out walking in it, well, until we actually went out and they felt the wind. Then they kept repeating things like "Ugh, this wind is so cold" and "Why is the wind so cold?" and "That wind is bugging me" and "Do I have to wear my gloves?" (this last from FDPG who had inexplicably hot hands). I paused by the trestle bridge which our house overlooks to take that picture. You can't tell but the wind was vicious, whipping me and my fake fur coat into near shreds.
And here we are in the nearby bird sanctuary, with another atmospheric tree - this time a willow on the edge of a little creek.
I was in Seattle last week, on my annual American Shoppapaloosa, when this funny plastic item caught my eye. I glanced, checked the price, then replaced it in the bin with its siblings because it seemed 
When I came home I used it immediately. Here you have my newly patented Snowman Circle Pancake Combination. I made big circles, small circles, and middle size circles so we could have DIY Goldilocks snowmen. Big hit with the small set.
...of the eco-obsessed movement will never enter our lexicon.
Can you see the flicker on the feeder? The red shafted Northern Flicker, to be precise? He's got some pretty decent yoga moves here, methinks.
