GC, The Dog and I hit the road on Saturday morning.
First we swooped down on Chandler Swain’s house in the country for her Christmas pottery sale. Remember I said I don’t like tea? Well, I do like teapots. Especially Chandler’s teapots. I bought two more, along with a wine glass from her black and white collection. GC bought two mugs and a teapot. (Between us we now have six Chandler Swain teapots. We’re trying to stop.)
We headed for Orangeville directly after Chandler’s, sticking as much as possible to the back roads and small highways. The GPS is good for that, although every now and then it tells us to do something goofy, like turn right off the highway, then turn right, then turn right, then turn right again. Just for fun, we do it, and if we’re lucky we see something interesting like a herd of goats or an ostrich.
It took us a long time to get to Orangeville. Six or seven hours. We were going there to meet Chelsea. Chelsea’s the new baby: My niece’s daughter, my other niece’s niece, my sister’s grand-daughter, my great-niece. Chelsea, with the strawberry blond peach fuzz hair and blue eyes and long fingers and kiss-shaped lips.
She was born a couple of weeks early, and she’s about six weeks old now. She’s still pretty little – about eight and a half pounds, but just the right size bundle for me to cuddle. She’s very sweet. I loved holding her and kissing her and talking to her and marveling over her tiny wee fingernails. I loved listening to all her new baby noises, from the sweet little sighs to the bubbly little farts. And I loved seeing everybody else in their new roles as moms and aunts and grandmas and grandpas.
She’s a very well-loved baby.
I wish I lived closer so I could see her more often. GC and I were talking a few weeks ago about how to be part of a child’s life when you live so far away. She has so many relatives who will be part of her everyday life, and I’ll just be Auntie Zoom who lives a long way away.
“You have to do something to distinguish yourself,” said GC. “You have to make an impression.”
And that’s when I came up with the brilliant idea that every year on her birthday, I’m going to give Chelsea a new puppy! I won’t just be some hazy great aunt off in the distance, I’ll be the the crazy great aunt with all the puppies. How’s that for making an impression?
Speaking of gifts, last week I finally got around to sewing the sleeves into the sweater I knit her. I don’t think it’ll fit her for awhile yet. Maybe next year.
Speaking of knitting, I started a sock on the road. It’s a Lorna’s Laces slipped rib sock, made from Arequipa yarn, which was a gift from a friend at my old job.
We also got to see Tucker while we were in Orangeville. Tucker’s my niece Kati’s cat. He’s hilarious. He’s kind of lewd, the way he sits around with his legs spread and a goofy look on his face. Sometimes he dangles a back leg over his head and chews on his toenails. He ambushed The Dog a few times.
It was a whirlwind trip – we were only there for about 20 hours and then it was time to come back. GC and I are not committed drivers so it takes us forever to get anywhere. But we do have fun along the way. We sing songs and play the alphabet game and stop frequently so he doesn’t doze off. I bravely offer to share the driving every now and then, but he knows I’m scared of driving so he doesn’t take me up on it. We stop for coffee, ice cream cones, burgers, fresh air, sandwiches, and pee breaks. And The Dog is no spring chicken either, so he needs frequent stops too, to pee and eat cookies. He’s a very good traveler.
I took this picture when we stopped to check out Captain Morbid’s hearse which is really long but only seats two people. It’s still got the original sliders for the casket. The Captain’s wife and most of his kids aren’t crazy about the hearse, but he and his youngest daughter love it. Captain Morbid looks like a biker and he has two gold teeth and owns a tackle shop (Captain Morbid’s Tackle and Bait). He was lamenting this year’s late start to ice fishing season. I regret not taking his picture.
Speaking of pictures, we saw Santa Claus driving a motorcycle through Peterborough, but I wasn’t fast enough with the camera. And we saw multiple examples of incredibly tacky eye-popping 3D wildlife art at Kaladar’s general store, but I didn’t think a 2D camera would do it justice.
But here’s The Dog.
And here’s the anthropomorphized ladylike teapot.
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ROTFLMAO…The puppy aunt…I am so glad that they don’t live with me anymore. Let’s find another way of keeping you a vivid family member. Remember, my kids always lived a long way away from you and you are a big part of their family.
Beautiful, just beautiful zoom new life is always a blessing.
And I love the way you do road trips, I used to always tell my ex to go in circles when the GPS told us to, but she would just get frazzled and drive straight.
I think that’s why we never worked out.
Congrats! And congrats on winning Best Personal Blog … oops, I mean…
-JM
That teapot just screams “Walk this way please.”
Man, I want a new baby in the family.
You should make your great-niece scarves, mittens and sweaters from the hair that Duncan sheds…
I may become the chicken auntie!
Hey elmaks i was planning on doing that (my husky’s undercoat is easily spun) and I was told nort to make anything for a child to wear because the smell confused dogs!
Road trips like that are great!
Deb, thank you. But if you think that means I’m abandoning my brilliant puppy aunt idea, you’re mistaken. 😉
Junkie Monkey, I think it’s always a good idea to keep your eye on the goal, but to be open to detours and side trips along the way. It keeps life interesting.
Grace, I know what you mean about the teapot. She’s got attitude. As for the baby, patience my dear.
Elmaks, I could create a whole line of Duncan-Down wear.
Mudmama, every baby needs a chicken auntie!
Julia, it was. I love road trips.
Zoom . . . I am blown away by these tea pots. I intended to write you last night but . . . blah blah . . . However, I did dream of Raven in a powerful way. This is powerful art!
BTW . . . I’m the dowager queen of road trips. In 2004 (OK, a long time ago, but I’ve taken many shorter jaunts since then) I set out in my 20-foot mini motor home for 8 weeks and over 7000 miles to Michigan and home from WA state. I was very scared to set out, but very soon to love it.
One of my favorite experiences was at a state park in northern MI. I was dumping the black water tank (that would be toilet tank). A woman called out of the window, “Are you alone?”
“Yes,” sez I.
“You’re dumping your tank?”
oops . . . I pressed the wrong key before I was finished . . .
so . . . she says, “You’re dumping your tank?â€
and I say . . .”Yes, they allow women to do that here.”