Celebration Carmichael Style

The Drew never lost faith in me, even when I had.

Last night, we had a fun filled evening at Boston Pizza. We were celebrating the arrival of the paper version of, Spaghetti is NOT a Finger Food and Other Life Lessons.

Here's a tribute to my most amazing family. If it takes a village to raise a child, it takes a family to nurture a writer.

Thank you so much.

I love you all to the moon and back. 

 

Sarah is so excited, that she  keeps offering free copies to her friends.

Emma's 2nd grade class was my fist Beta audience.

Without my mom. there would be no book. She enrolled me in my first writing course.

Judith babysat so that I could go to writing conferences & workshops.

My dad spent hours supporting me on my blog book tour, posting comments as we toured the world wide web.

Our new favourite bedtime story.

 

Family Traditions - the Old and the New

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Family Traditions – built on years of repetition and sentiment. Every family has them. Some of the most memorable ones are wrapped around the big holidays – Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, Hannukah, and for Tim Burton fans - Halloween.

Does your family open Christmas presents on Christmas Eve or do you wait until morning? Who hands out the pressies? Is it, “Santa’s Elf” or “Mrs. Claus,” or an exhausted mom who didn’t sleep because she was more excited for Christmas morning than her children? (Just curious.) Does this person, not referring to any specific mom, wear a fluffy red hat with puffy white trim while passing around the gifts?

Much to my husband’s horror, I brought a few traditions with me in my tickle trunk of eccentricity, to our marriage. We Griffiths' delight in Christmas crackers, wearing our paper hats through dinner and into dessert. Every year Drew “accidentally” tears his, blaming his ginormous melon-sized cranium. Harrumph, we’re onto you, my sweets, we’re onto you.

My mom started one of my favourite traditions, for my brother and me, and Drew and I now do the same for our girls. We send them on a treasure hunt for gifts on their birthday morning, providing clues that lead them from one present to the next.

A few days ago, we sent my youngest, Sarah, on her hunt.  We’re always at the lake for her birthday,  so hiding her presents in our 600 sq. foot cottage, is quite a challenge.

And every year, our extended family drives the hour from Winnipeg, joining us for the sun, the lake and the mosquitoes. We like to share everything, here in Ponemah. It's tradition.

This year we were treated to a visit from my two American cousins, Liz and Lorraine. I haven’t seen either since the 1980’s. 30 years is a long time between visits and much has changed, but there was an instant family connection that makes me giddy just thinking about.

Over burgers, bright blue icing laden cupcakes, and wine we reminisced, agreeing that we can’t wait another 30 years to see each other again.

We vowed to keep in touch, updating each other with the goings on in our lives - building the newest Family Tradition - Staying Connected.

What are your oldest and dearest traditions?  Which ones would you prefer to dump?

Are there new traditions you’d like to test out?

Please post your comments below – I’d love to hear from you.

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(And no, this is not my family. We can't jump that high.)

Seconds of Grammar Anyone?

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I’m sure our doctor friends discuss medical terms over roast beef and our teacher friends discuss classroom behaviour issues when sipping steaming soup. In our big yellow house, we talk writing. And drawing.  And movie making.


We are a creative home where all artistic endeavours are supported and nurtured, even to the detriment of the state of our house. (Please see Exhibit A - my blog, Move Over Mr. Speilberg,  to understand my aversion to glitter.)

Recently my Sarah wrote a book based on her sister’s babyhood sleep issues. She insisted I take it to my writing group, The Anitas, and read it to them. I was under strict instruction not to tell them she asked me to do so. Sarah also asked when I thought I could get it published.

She suggested, "A month, maybe two?"

Ah, if publication was only so simple, youngest grasshopper.

So the other night, while slurping our spaghetti, we discussed words that are pronounced the same, but have different meanings. For instance, “right” as in correct and “write” as in what I like to do when not sleeping. Through our supper, we progressed through dozens of words, thinking ourselves highly intelligent and incredibly humorous.

During dessert, Emma’s eyes grew wide. I was sure she would have the best word of the evening.

“Hey," she shouted, eyes a’ sparklin’, “Are these, like, homophobes?”

Ah, eldest grasshopper, you have taught the teacher. We Carmichaels are not as smart as we thought. You brought our egos down to earth and made us revisit basic grammar rules - and doesn't that sound fun?

Next dinner discussion – homophones v.s. homophobes – one is fun word play, the other never funny. Compare and contrast.

Any takers? We have a table that sits 12 - almost comfortably!

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