Sunday, Nov. 21, 2004
11:33 a.m.

There seems to be no time to write these days. Let's blame it on having a man around, one who is taking a break from the neverending work he's been doing for the past two years, and doesn't quite know what to do with himself when there is no labour demanding his attention.

He occupies himself by flipping the channels on the TV in the room behind me while I put in my working hours here on the computer; we have cable here, not the two fuzzy channels we get back on the farm. So in spite of the irritating overabundance of commercial interruptions in programming, there is also endless possibility. You just never know what might be on, eh?

It has been nice to have a companion. He wasn't one when we were on the farm, because he was always working or so exhausted that he was sleeping. Now he's rested up and finding time on his hands; we can go for a walk that isn't filled with conversation about what needs to be done next on the farm or what hasn't been done right. We shop for groceries together, and he has made supper almost every evening. The kids and I think it's great to have him at the table with us for meals.

All three of us are really, really happy that he is finally here.

The photo above was taken when my brother-in-law's mom was here from Scotland; that's her on the left. She's sitting next to my niece Jordan, then Everett with baby Gracie on his knee (she was here with my cousin and aunt, from Saskatchewan), then Mom at the other end of the couch. You'll recognize Emil on the right.

Sometimes it is almost embarrassing to have my 16-year-old son insist on kissing me (repeatedly) goodnight while ignoring everyone else in the household. If he was six it would be cute that he behaves as if he has a crush on his mother. Now that he’s a teenager, it teeters on the edge of perverse.

I know, I know ... he’s a little kid in a young man’s body, that’s all. But occasionally it is difficult to reconcile the two.