Professional flashback

Hmm...didn't know you could be a professional flashback"er" now could you? Well, here are some of the pro shots of the big day...

Flashback

...to the wedding. Now that I'm at Liisa's, I finally got some photos of the wedding. So...here are a few candids.

The aftermath

A nice breeze blew in today and brought along a few of the stragglers from last night's party. Time for some good food to get the day started right - even if night didn't end for some until a few hours ago. Hadn't put a photo of Tom on so here is the happy couple in the aftermath. And again beachin' it AC (air conditioning) style....

The big Paa-tay (as Kiira would say)

Well, here we are, all dolled up. Liisa looked spectacular in her paa-tay dress and well, mom and I lagged behind a bit compared to her but, we tried to clean up as best we could. The pic w/all the dolls are (left to right) Liisa's dear friend Avril, Liisa, Tom's mom Gloria, Tom's sister Cath, me, and mom.
There was just a speckling of drunken sailors at the paa-tay (literaly! it's a sailing community. oh yeah, and they like their drink). Clearly, everyone enjoyed the big bash. Food - delish, company - superb, setting - divine. Overlooking the ocean, a balmy night with the islands far off in the distance. Uh..Alan...miss you! We've got another day left before we fly out on Tuesday. As they say, another day in paradise.

Roughing it

Have I mentioned that Airlie Beach is right on the water near the Great Barrier Reef and the Whitsunday Islands? Here is a shot from our hotel balcony.
We also enjoyed a lovely pedicure the morning before the big party. Tom had secretly booked mom and me in so we could spend some quality time with Liisa.

G'day matie

Greetings friends! I update you from down under. The much anticipated and hidden secret of me flying to Australia to surprise my sister for her wedding party in Airlie Beach has finally jumped upon us. My mom and I departed on Tuesday from San Francisco and arrived in Sydney on Thursday. We will never live a Wednesday, November 14 because of the time change. Oh well. We stayed over in Sydney and frequented the Queen Victoria shopping plaza as well as getting a "relaxing massage". Quite a lovely way to recover from jetlag. Next day - aboard another plane we hopped up to Queensland.
AND, I've made an important revelation which is - what a piece of cake to fly by myself!! I packed in about 30 min and brought movies, the ipod video and books for entertainment. Mom and I lucked out and had a seat in between us so actually got some sleep.
I think it is safe to say that flying 14 hours by myself is equal to about a 2 hour flight with kids. After each, respectively, you are ready to get off the plane. That said, I do miss the kids and have photos and video of them which i have proudly shown to anyone who will look at them.
Down to business - we surprised Liisa last night at a local restaurant. She will readily admit to getting the "surprise of her life!" Her mouth dropped open when we walked in and she actually did a mom and fanned her face with her hand. It was priceless. And yes, I caught it on video. Of course, can i figure out how to get the video on the computer - no. However, I do have some photos to upload. The big party is tonight so look for that post. And now, without further ado, here are some photos!

Chip off the 'ole riding block

Alright, admittedly I'm a little biased, and perhaps I even set low expectations however.....Kiira kicked some little kid booty at her very first riding lesson. I expected a somewhat reserved, scared to get too close to the pony to groom him approach. Quite the opposite. As you'll see from one of the video's, she was right in the mix, gettin' down and dirty. It was all I could do to not burst with parental joy. It was her first time riding English and I think she took to it exceedingly well. Her teacher, Suzanne, led her around by the reins for the first 3 minutes, then they did some excercises where she touched her head, held out her arms to either side etc. No fear there. Suzanne gave her the reins, taught her how to steer and before the end of the lesson they were doing cavalleti's (for the non horsey folk out there, that's poles on the ground that the horse steps over). Well, without further ado....errgggghhh...bloody hell...I've been trying for an hour now to upload the damn video. I'm trying on Alan's mac and why in the (*$^ hell can't I get a video icon on the screen! Anyone on a mac out there to relate to this? HELP! I thought this was supposed to be the easy media computer. errggghhhh....

Giddy up for real!

Well, we have found what we think will be the perfect barn to start riding lessons. We start tomorrow! If is, of course, the furthest one away of all the barns I looked at.

We got the grand tour including Kiira's future trusty stead. Robin Hood will be who Kiira is making her debut on. She will walk on lead line until, as mommy had said, she has mastered her form. And really her confidence. I just want her to have fun.

We also met mommy's trusty stead, Orbitz. Looks like a nice mare. Perhaps I will work into a half lease on a horse but for now I am content to take some lessons at the same time that Kiira takes hers. Hopfully that will work out. Here is a photo of Kiira in her new riding helmet!

Family Tradition

Ahhhh....the time of year has come that excites both old and young (or most old that is, unless you are so bahumbug as to not see through a young one's eye anymore). You can't help but think back to how you've grown up and some of your own traditions. Halloween....brrrrrrr.....that's what I remember first. Then I remember making costumes with my friends and going out in a bunch of homemade, creative, lucky if they make it through the night before falling apart costumes. Love it. It was so hard to wait until we finished dinner to go. But then, mom going to the drawer where we kept the flashlight meant, we were off momentarily.

Next - Thanksgiving. Ahhh...the smells that permeate the house. Mom made everything, and I mean everything! A feast. My Uncle Jeff, (Aunt) Miss Marilyn, Mom, Dad, Liisa, and of course my maternal grandparents, Nanny and Grumpie (yes, we really did call him Grumpie - well, he was!) would come for a nice early, long drawn out eating event. Liisa and I would fight over who got to sit next to Miss Marilyn and we would eat until at least one of us had to undo the top button of our pants. An affliction we affectionaly referred to in our house as "over the belt". "How ya feelin' ?". "I'm over the belt" would be the reply after dinner.

We weren't a big group but I always remember alot of laughter. It would seem there were many more there than listed above if judged solely on the noise level. And actually, each year we would have a rotating bonus guest. Marilyn has 4 siblings and it was always a treat when one of them would come along. The house was loud, warm and smelled delicious. We had dogs and cats running around. I can't think of a better time. And have I mentioned the laughter? :-)

Now...the holiday of all holidays! Christmas was upon us. Mom started taking things down soon after Thanksgiving to make room for the Christmas decorations! Oh how I loved that. We would tromp down to the musty basement (we grew up on the east coast - we did actually have a basement!), dig around the big oil drum that held the oil to heat our house (it was a house built in the late 1800's) and bring up soggy boxes of decorations. Mom put on Christmas music and sang in her operetic voice to anything that came on. Rudolph in opera voice, Frosty in opera voice and my personal favorite, the Little Drummer Boy in opera voice.

Every year we would go cut a Christmas tree with a family that my dad grew up with. They had two daughters as well, about our age. It was just dads and daughters most years. It's actually one of my only memories of an activity without mom. Mom, for the most part, was the active one in our lives.

Before we would head out, we'd have some lunch and after lunch settled, we'd spread the handmade afghan on the floor as the "wrestling mat". You see, my dad's friend, Mr. Valentine (we were never allowed to call grown ups by their first name back then) was the wrestling coach in a neighboring town. We'd each get down in the wrestling stance and have a go with each other. It usually ended in a giggling fit but the dads liked to show us a new move every now and then and we kids thought it was the bomb.

Then, we'd load up in our separate cars, saws a'packed, and head out to the "Chop your own Christmas tree farm". We'd run from one tree to another, playing hide and seek until we finally stumbled upon, and agreed upon, the perfect one. Every year we would bring home a perfectly shaped tree. Until it was in the living room that is. Never fail, we would have to chop off part of the bottom as it was too big to fit in the room. Then we would rotate and nudge until that one little bare spot we'd missed was perfectly hidden. Although, in retrospect, we didn't really need to hide those bare spots as the tree was covered in decorations, and, aghast, TONS of hanging tinsle. That was our favorite part - the tinsle.

Of course we couldn't decorate until the tree had "settled" as my parents called it. My sister and I decided that "settled" and "torture" had the same meaning. Not to worry, Mom made good use of our time and put us on light bulb duty. We'd lay out the Christmas lights (big colorful bulbs) and see which bulbs didn't work. How is it that just laying in a box for a year could blow so many lightbulbs? I think perhaps that's a mystery that goes hand in hand with, "where do all the socks go in the dryer?"

How my mom put up with all the scary things my sister and I wanted to do to that poor, loved tree, I will never understand. She's a saint. And, lest you forget, the Christmas music was a'blarin the whole time. Records. Yes, records back then. Eeek...I'm sounding old. Errr...cassettes were out, uhhh...we just chose to use the vinyl....I mean records....I mean classics. Yeah, that's what it is. Tradition you know.... :-)

Now, I have my own family. A bigger, more joyous, and well, more Jewish family. To me, it means more celebrations, more traditions, and even more laughter in the home. Alan, for the most part, has embraced my family's traditions (although the Christmas tree tradition was a bit hard at first. We had to work up from the Christmas bush to an actual tree....) and I like to think that I've embraced his family's traditions. I've got alot to learn about Judaism and often refer to my "Judaism for Dummies" book and several others I've found helpful. I find the whole religion facinating though. I didn't grow up religious and have often thought if I had to pick a religion, I'm glad Judaism has, in a way, picked me. It was the nudge I needed to explore my own spirituality more than I would have on my own. And, I'm glad that our children, who will grow up Jewish, will have this foundation on which to call from at those times in their lives when they feel particularly challenged. Especially as they grow older and, god forbid, mommy and daddy aren't as influential as we once were. I'd like to think that we are creating an environment in which they can find a mentor to lead them as life becomes grey.

I've digressed. Tradition. Yes, what got me thinking was the pictured fish lips. These are a direct result of my sister. She has passed this face down to Kiira. They spent a whole visit perfecting this look. This is a face that I could never do well. Now, it will live on and be passed from generation to generation - gasp!. Look next for the Kimble. This is a White tradition and will be passed from generation to generation as well. Yes, that too is a silly face :-) .