So imagine my surprise when I got the boys’ proofs and saw the biggest innovation in school photos in decades.  Let’s see if you notice it, too.

That’s right – it’s a new pose!  After years of close-up head-and-shoulders shots, they’ve introduced the casual hands-in-pocket standing pose.  I think it looks pretty cool, although their faces are tiny on wallet-sized photos.

I’m not sure I understand what’s going on with the background.  To me, it kind of looks like the boys about to be sucked into some kind of time portal or vortex, and the red / orange smears at the bottom look a little bit like flames.  A cynic might suggest it looks like the boys are posing in Hell – perhaps it’s a not-so-subtle suggestion that the boys should be baptized.

Don’t procrastinate

Fail.  For example, every day I come home and see the peeling paint on my front door.  It’s been on my to-do list for a couple of years.  I didn’t get around to it in 2011.  And that’s just the front door – you should see the rest of the house.

Call a friend at least once a week.

Fail.  I think I might have called a friend once a season (that’s four times, for my arithmetically-challenged readers).  For some reason I can’t seem to find 20 minutes a week to reach out and touch someone.

Write letters and cards.

Fail.  I recall sending one card in 2011 (not including the 250-ish Christmas cards I sent for work).  Definitely some room for improvement.

Try one new recipe a week.

Fail.  I think I averaged a recipe a month.  I can’t remember a single one that stood out and has become part of my regular rotation.  Sigh.

Read at least one book a month.

Close, but still a fail.  I almost squeaked by on this one.  Last year’s reading list consisted of:

52 Loaves: One Man’s Relentless Pursuit of Truth, Meaning, and a Perfect Crust (William Alexander)

War (Sebastian Junger)

The Toughest Show on Earth.  My Rise and Reign at the Metropolitan Opera (Joseph Volpe)

Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers (Mary Roach)

Packing for Mars: The Curious Science of Life in the Void (Mary Roach)

The Best Laid Plans (Terry Fallis)

A Game of Thrones (George R.R. Martin)

A Clash of Kings (George R.R. Martin)

A Storm of Swords (George R.R. Martin)

A Feast for Crows (George R.R. Martin)

In my defence, those Game of Thrones books are long – each one is like reading three normal books. If I had chosen to read something more concise and less maddeningly expansive, I would have easily reached one of my five goals for the year.

On the plus side, my failure to achieve any of my goals for 2011 means I don’t have to waste much time coming up with new goals for 2012.  I’m simply going to recycle last year’s list and see if I can improve on my dismal performance.

There is one new goal to add to the list.  This is the year I turn 40.  When I turned 39, I decided I should greet the next decade in the best shape of my life.  I figured this shouldn’t be that hard, as I’ve never really been in shape to begin with.  Of course, nearly five months have gone by and I’ve ridden the exercise bike a total of three times, so I’m off to a good start.

Morning came much too early, as it always does on Christmas Day.  We managed to delay the inevitable rush to the presents by about half an hour, but eventually we ran out of negotiating ploys and capitulated.

The boys seemed happy with their matching Sens jersey. They also got tickets to the Sens game on January 8th – it will be a nice way to celebrate the last day of Christmas vacation.

K showing off the snowman he got from his brother, courtesy of the school’s Christmas shop.

B and the boys working on a 1,000-piece puzzle (this scene of familial bliss lasted about 4 minutes in total before A & K went off to play with Lego).

It’s no secret that I’m not a fan of turkey dinners.  However, I tried something new this year and roasted it in the Big Green Egg.  The verdict?  Blah.

K and I went for a walk with his favourite gift, a penguin pillow pet.  Midway through our trek to the RCMP stables he took a break to have a nap on a snowbank (yes, we had a white Christmas after all).

Coal spent most of the day sleeping on the couch.  It’s probably wishful thinking that the boys would follow his example one of these days.

The day ended with a bit of Beatles Rockband.  I visited 22 different stores trying to find a second guitar controller for the Wii (including a depressing visit to a pawn shop on Christmas Eve) but came up empty.  If you come across one of these relics from the Guitar Hero craze of 2008, give me a shout.

So, with just 13 days until Christmas, I thought I’d share this year’s list.  It’s an interesting mix of items that includes a few surprises.

crismas list:

1.  3DS™ [Note:  yes, he really wrote in the ™ symbol.  Advertising works, folks]

2.  lego™

3.  atlantis portal

4.  stuffed animal

5.  snivy that transforms into a pokéball

6.  pokémon cards

7.  pokémon black version 3ds game

8.  trasportable beyblade sadyum

9.  beyblade dragoon

10.  beyblade clocwise

11.  venus fly trap

12.  pet shrimp

13.  new baseball bat

14.  NEW PET KITEN!  (I relly, relly, relly, relly, relly, relly, relly, relly, relly, relly, relly want one!!!!!!

I was having one of those mornings recently, and to top it off, neither of the boys was listening to a word I said.  I finally snapped and launched into a fairly heated lecture about respect and paying attention, complete with, “Wipe that smile off your face!” and, “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

A went upstairs, head bowed, and I could hear him crying in his room.  After a few minutes passed, I went up and apologized for losing my temper.  He muttered, “It’s O.K.” and went back to his room.  He came back a few minutes later and handed me the following letter:

to:  Mom and dad
From:  A

dear mom and dad,

I love you both very much and I exept your apology dad.  I hope we can make up to each other by you walking me to my door.  That way we will be able to co-oporate together and set things right.

Sencierly,

A

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

And suddenly my day was a bit brighter…

The Dearloves circa 2006.

Oh how things have changed…

This year, the boys picked out their own Hallowe’en costumes.  A decided to be a blue ninja, complete with dual curved blades with hooks that would rip your opponent’s guts out.  K decided to be a zombie hockey player wielding a bloody butcher knife.

That photo doesn’t really do K’s mask justice.  Here’s one with a bit more detail.

Yes, that’s a pucked lodged in his skull, with blood and brain matter emerging from the gaping wound.  Given all the talk about hockey concussions and long-term brain damage in the sport, we were uneasy with his choice but ultimately let him wear it to school.  And there goes our chance to win Parents of the Year…

We went on an epic walk through the neighbourhood this time around.  After nearly 90 minutes and with around 15 pounds of candy straining the seams of their loot bags, A & K reluctantly agreed to head home.  We were greeted by a vision in pink carrying a black cat – very chic.

The night ended like it does every year – with a giant pile of candy and the boys sorting it into the essential food groups (chips, chocolate bars, suckers, gummies, and rockets).  After they’re asleep, we’ll steal a few of our favourites from the stash and hope they don’t notice.

We spent Saturday afternoon walking through Old Montreal.  We did the tourist thing and rented a quadracycle to ride along the waterfront.  K enjoyed his perch in the “King of the World” position, and A demanded the opportunity to steer.  Fortunately those things are limited to a top speed of 4 km/h, so we were never in any danger of inflicting harm on the many families in our path.

As the sun began to set, we started looking for a place to have supper.  While I had visions of us dining at Toqué or Au Pied du Cochon, I knew the boys wouldn’t last five seconds.  So, I lowered my expectations and suggested…St. Hubert.

You know what?  It was fine.  A roving magician did some tricks for the boys to entertain them, and it’s pretty hard to screw up rotisserie chicken.

On the way back to the hotel, we strolled down Sainte-Catherine.  The boys played with an art installation outside Place des Arts that involved aiming giant spotlights into the night sky – tons of fun.  A was a little curious about the sign that read “Nude Dancers” and the bikini-clad superheroes at Club Super Sexe, but it didn’t lead to anything too awkward.

The boys woke me up early on Sunday morning.  We let B sleep in and took the subway to find some bagels.  I couldn’t help but notice the odd juxtaposition of ads for adult and kid entertainment – somebody has a sense of humour.

Once at the Plateau we hit up both Fairmont and Saint-Viateur for our bagel fix.  We also stopped at Fabergé for a decent breakfast – it’s a nice place, and while we were the only ones there when it opened, I’m sure it fills up with hipsters and their beautiful kids later in the morning.

Our visit concluded with a visit to the Biodome.  I had heard great things about it from friends, and we weren’t disappointed.  The big aquariums were cool, and obviously K got a kick out of seeing the penguins.  The live birds-of-prey demonstration was also a hit (although seeing the great horned owl was a little traumatic).

Pengui meets his southern relatives.

After living in Ottawa for 13 years, I feel bad that I haven’t been to Montreal more often.  I feel like I only have a superficial relationship with the city – maybe someday I’ll get the chance to move beyond our infrequent, all-too-short hook-ups to something more meaningful.

First up was last Saturday’s annual fund-raising gala, with special guest Sarah McLachlan.  I definitely went through a Sarah phase back in the early 90′s – Solace was in my regular rotation, acting as an emotional amplifier when I wanted to wallow in self-pity.  B had also tried to convince me that Ice Cream should be our wedding song, and while part of me liked it because I was pretty sure I could master a simple waltz-step, I ultimately vetoed it because of the somewhat depressing chorus “It’s a long way down to the place where we started from”.

Hearing Sarah perform live was a pleasant surprise.  She sang extremely well, perfectly in tune, and she has more vocal chops than I thought she did (including a beautiful upper register).  She’s got a new set of orchestral charts, and I’m sure she could keep herself busy for the next year if she wanted to doing the orchestra pops circuit.  She also looked stunning, with fabulously toned arms, and had an engaging stage presence.  All around, a really good performance.

(I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that Pinchas and the orchestra sounded great in the first half.  The black-tie crowd ate up the clapping bit during the Radetzky March).

The next day, it was time for something completely different.  I took the boys to the Blacksheep Inn up in Wakefield to hear a solo set by JP Hoe.  JP is a talented singer-songwriter from Winnipeg who was one of our favourite musicians at the last Scene festival.  He recently finished a new album and has a couple of important showcases coming up, and I hope it all leads to some new opportunities – he’s a great talent with a bright future.

On Tuesday, I picked up Dan Mangan’s new album Oh Fortune.  Dan was my favourite singer-songwriter during BC Scene two years ago, and since then his career has really taken off.  He was named Artist of the Year at the 2009 Verge Music Awards, was shortlisted for the 2010 Polaris Music Prize for Nice, Nice, Very Nice, and has been touring virtually non-stop.

It’s been interesting to watch the lead-up to the album launch by an artist on the rise.  There was the CBC Radio 3 broadcast of the whole album performed live, Dan was Jian’s guest on Q, and new performance clips were released on Dan’s website every few days.  All the hard work is paying off – the album is getting lots of attention, and he’s headlining at much larger venues (including a gig at the 2,800-seat Orpheum in his home town of Vancouver).  I look forward to catching his Ottawa show on October 14th at the Bronson Centre.  Tickets are available here.

Finally, I just got around to listening to some Elbow (yes, I know I’m a few years late on this one).  I’ve grown very fond of Lippy Kids – it’s one of those songs on first listen that takes you by surprise and puts a grin on your face as the melody unfolds.  Lead singer Guy Garvey has a wonderful voice that draws frequent comparisons to Peter Gabriel, which is never a bad thing.

I may be a musician, but my artistic abilities do not translate to the visual arts world.  I have never been able to draw, and my feeble attempts at making something out of clay in public school always resulted in deformed pieces that only a mother could love (and even that was questionable).  So, I was both excited and nervous when I snagged the final spot in an eight-hour soapstone carving workshop.

There were eight students in my workshop, which was led by master carver John Sabourin.  We gathered around some tables in a large tent outside and picked out a large chunk of soapstone.  There were a few stencils of traditional forms we could use to get started, or we could draw something freehand (yeah, right).  I figured a polar bear would be a good choice, and step one was figuring out how to make it fit on my piece of rock.

The first part was easy in concept, a bit difficult to execute.  Using a hand saw, I had to trim off the large pieces of extra stone.  I know soapstone is considered a soft stone, but it’s still a rock, and my arm was getting pretty tired after 10 minutes of sawing.  I looked enviously at some of the professional carvers who were using power tools, but we were doing this old-school, so I just put my head down and kept going.

For the next five hours, I used a variety of small metal files to slowly shape the square stone into a rounded piece.  Every once in a while John would stop by and suggest areas that should be filed down, and a few times I ducked inside to look at finished sculptures in the gallery to see what the bear should look like.  It seemed impossible that my chunk of rock would ever resemble an actual bear.

At one point, I said to John, “The head – it looks like a bull”.

He said, “Do you want it to be a bull?”

Who had ever heard of a soapstone bull?  “No,” I said, “I want a bear”.

He took my piece over to his Dremel-like tool, and 30 seconds later my bull was looking decidedly more bear-like.  He made it look awfully easy.

By the middle of the afternoon, my hair and clothes were covered in a fine white dust.  The bear was beginning to take shape, and John suggested it was time to start sanding.  This was a painfully slow process that involved no fewer than six different steps – coarse sandpaper, fine sandpaper, the rough side of a sanding sponge, the fine side of a sanding sponge, steel wool in water, and 800-grit sandpaper.  The final step was wiping it down with tung oil and buffing it to a shine.

Dipping the sculpture in water had a magical effect.  The dry soapstone was white, but as soon as it got wet, it looked completely different.  The stone was a beautiful green colour, with black streaks and gold flecks littered throughout.  I couldn’t believe how great it looked.

It was a pretty cool way to spend a day.  Life at home is usually too busy to contemplate spending eight hours sitting at a table and focusing all your attention on a small piece of stone – it had a definite Zen-like quality. I walked back to the hotel with a spring in my step, the bear snug under my arm, with a rare sense of satisfaction that I had actually created something.  I also came away with a much deeper appreciation for the skill of the real carvers whose work was on display at the festival – they are truly talented artists.

Au revoir, l’été…