Uptime and Downtime

 

Unlike previous school breaks these holidays have been free of any "organised" activity.

Instead spontaneity coupled with plenty of down time for all of us has been our modus operandi.

Youngest KAT is off to big school and these holidays have been about spending lots of time with her big sisters....annoying as that can sometimes be for each of them:)

Oldest KAT remains preoccupied with her elevation to high school and the natural apprehension that it brings.

Middle KAT has been practising her basketball skills in the evenings with daddy whilst I constructively critisize Saint Mike's coaching technique and play with the other two in the adjacent park.

Two weeks to go. Shopping done, labelling underway. The excitement for a new school year builds.

Balancing the Bumps with the Blessings

2012 was a mixed bag for me. On an individual level it was a year of stumbling. I want to say failing but I've done enough years of cognitive behaviour therapy/mindfulness training to know that's not helpful self-talk.

I don't mention these stumbles to dwell on them, it's merely to document:

1. My history of yo-yo dieting continues...the "yo" rebounded with a bang - all weight lost in 2011 regained. Not enough words to convey the self-loathing that's ensued.
2. Work was sporadic, a few good months to be followed by a hiatus when the stair tumble occurred and my confidence is now so low that I feel anxious just thinking about the prospect of ever working again.
3. Like many men his age, Saint Mike has been struggling with a minor mid-life crisis. Fortunately as the amazingly resilient bloke that he is the impact has been confined to our intimacy suffering a few low points but with focused attention all is well in that garden:)
4. Illness and injury were a factor in 2012 for me and also for family members. Sadly the end of the year meant the loss of my brother-in-law, leaving behind twin girls our middle KATs age which breaks my heart. Added to this my lovely mother-in-law is being wracked by the relentless progression of Parkinson's and my heart is heavy with the burden this puts on her.

Fortunately these challenges are outweighed by the blessings of my beautiful KATs and Saint Mike along with the pleasure and respite that comes from having constant contact with my amazing siblings and their partners and children and my lovely friends near and far that fill my heart with love.

 

1. Oldest KAT graduated from primary school receiving the Dux of the school award. It was a wonderful moment. She is apprehensive about high school but that is to be expected:)
2. Middle KAT is our very own sporting prodigy....she made the rep teams in both basketball and netball and is a very promising swimmer to boot. Even better she has emerged from year 4 as guileless and effervescent as she entered.
3. Youngest KAT amazes us with her maturity and intelligence...she is truly the 3rd child. We went to the pool yesterday and she was distraught to be without her flippers which we had assumed SHE would pack! We both agreed that this is typical of the high expectations we have for her at 5 compared to the other two who would no sooner have even got their towels out than pack their own goggles and flippers!! She is off to big school next year and my heart is heavy to lose our special times together.

The dawn of a New Year this time round is not about resolutions and turning over any new leaf. It is about being thankful for the blessings and moments of joy that I was fortunate to have in 2012 and being hopeful that these will continue into 2013.

 

I love my family and I am grateful to have these blessings.

 

Advent Calender Craft - Growing Seeds of Love

We're starting a new Advent Calender tradition this year at KATcapers.

The idea evolved organically. I knew that I wanted to use brown envelopes and a pinboard (recycling one that I've had for a while).  When I was out buying paint at Murobond I saw these seed envelopes

Once I started playing around with positioning them on the board I began to reflect on the fact that they were seed envelopes.

Seeds. Growing. Love.

I realized that there was a way to link the anticipation of christmas and the birth of our saviour with the love that we are growing within our little family.  Loving each other is a very important life lesson that Saint Mike and I want to teach our KATs.  Loving each other in spite of our differences.  Knowing that whatever happens, we are here for each other.

So, our Advent Calender has become a ritual that will have significance each year and will produce a 'crop' of love via notes we will write to each other each Advent season.

The way it works is:

1. Each of the KATs writes two notes to their siblings and mum and dad (3 X 8 = 24)
2. The note can be something you love about the person or something you admire about them or something you've appreciated that they've done for you (Littlest KAT draws a picture at the moment as she can't write)
3. Mum and Dad write one note for each KAT and one to each other (2 X 5 = 10)
4. The notes are placed in the envelope randomly (some obviously have two notes per day)
5. Each day we will open the envelope for that date and a family member will get a special message of love
6. Each day the person that gets the note will get a chocolate that they can each eat or give to someone else (hmmmmnnnn we'll see how this goes!!!)
7. Each year we will put the notes in a keepsake box and save them so that as the years pass we can re read them and hopefully cherish them:)

The girls all helped with putting the Advent Calender together - stamping the title, stamping the envelopes, attaching the red striped ribbon. 

I put it all together last night in readiness for today.  It is obviously a couple of days late but this is due to Middle KAT being very unwell over the weekend and ending up in emergency needing anti nausea medication and fluids....she's on the mend now!

Getting this Advent Calender completed is the first thing I have done in the way of Christmas decorating.  Saint Mike is itching to get his lights up.  The KATs are itching to get the inside decorations up.  I think we're going to have some busy evenings around here!

I'd love to know what you think?  Like?? 

Truth is stranger than fiction - part III (the Moran's)

Our childhood house - all gussied up and looking nothing remotely like it did when we lived there:)

Well here we are folks, I've come up with the goods on my connection (though tenuous) to the Moran family.

I know it's been a long time coming and I apologise.....blahdy blah blah. Life's busy, blogging takes a back seat most days....no point bayoneting the wounded so let's move on!

To the anonymous commenter who has been leaving requests reminding me that I owe you my Jason Moran story....hope this lives up to the hype.  If not, tough luck, I've started moderating comments so go your hardest critiquing me but you won't get your comment published without putting your name to it!!

If you're new to KATcapers (I can live in hope that I am somehow attracting new readers) my families connection to the Moran family was mentioned in passing in this post about my brush with an idiot and his gun. 

In considering this post I've realised that my story isn't so much about Jason Moran.  In actual fact it's more related to my recollections of the home of the Moran family and how the memory of it and the impact it had on my childhood mind still prevails today.  So I'm sorry to disappoint.  If you feel like reading my recollections of a house read on.  If you're looking for a juicy anecdote about a future crim perhaps click away now.

Ascot Value has had its fair share of crime and ignominy in the course of its existence and the presence of the Moran compound when I was growing up was simply a more visible indication that we were surrounded by faceless types who weren't particularly attentive to the letter of the law.

My dad was an ex-merchant seaman who like many of his colleagues had found his feet immersed in cement as a cargo superintendant for what was then the Australian National Line.  These ships were the vehicle for goods coming into Australia via the ports in our capital cities and my dad was effectively in a managerial role ensuring that the containers were loaded and unloaded from the ships arriving in port.  If a cargo ship capsized after being reloaded in his port, it would be his arse in the sling for not correctly positioning the containers!!

As a manager he was aware but not really a part of the shenanigans that people usually associate with the wharves (strikes, wharfies, things "falling off the back of truck" etc).  Nonetheless he was well aware of that and worked down at Port Melbourne throughout the period when the infamous "Painters and Dockers" were making their presence felt.  If you're not a Melbournian or indeed if you have no sense of the history of your fair city and the genesis of many of the Underbelly players (original series) feel free to skip ahead.

I however have a keen sense of my upbringing in a suburb that was a melting pot of new immigrants (Irish, southern Mediterranean) alongside working class people who had made Ascot Vale their home migrating from closer afield locales.  Most of these people I should stress were hard-working, honest types like my family.  We just happened to have the occasional dodgy neighbor. 

For those unfamiliar with it, Ascot Vale is conveniently located on a rail and a tram line and in those days (1970's) was easy commuting distance to the Port Melbourne docks and what was then the abottoirs of Flemington, Kensington and Footscray.  Hence some of the Painter and Docker criminal underbelly found it a favoured place to sleep off their nefarious activities.

The part of Ascot Vale that I grew up in is the neighborhood nestled in the crook of the arm that is Flemington Racecourse and the Royal Agricultural Society buildings that host the Melbourne Show.  Colloquially known as Whiskey Hill, our neighborhood was bound on one side by the Maribyrnong river across which lies Footscray and on the other side Epsom Road across which we needed to pass to reach the flats of Ascot Vale where our school was and where the main drag (imaginatively named "Union Road") and shops were located.

The area is popular today for its mixed housing stock - terraces, Californian bungalows, Edwardian cottages.  At the bottom of Whiskey Hill is also the low-rise Housing Commission flats.  When I was growing up the housing stock was affordable and many migrants settled in the area.

Our house was a Californian bungalow built in 1924 and it was located one street back from Langs Road which is the western-most boundary of the Showgrounds.  About four houses down our street was a group of vacant lots that bounded our street and backed onto more vacant blocks on Langs Road.

Covered in gravel, this vacant land was owned by the Royal Agricultural Society who ran the Show.  We kids called it "The Poles" in reference to the fact that the fence on both street boundaries was of the steel pole variety.  We were clearly imaginative kids!

We often played in the lots as kids, kicking stones (probably throwing them to) and mucking about. 

Every September that gravel lot would be used for parking whilst "the Show" was in session and it would be chock a block with vehicles.  For the remaining eleven and a half months of the year however it was just vacant land.

There was one section of The Poles that we steered clear of though.  I can't recall us kids every discussing it but we kept our distance from the big brick house that had two of it's boundary fences adjacent to the Poles.

It was a big house for our neighborhood.  Double story, brick and in those days painted white.  It was also notable for the fact that it had a pool.  Even more exotic it was a 'dug-in' pool which was unheard of in our neck of the woods. 

There was a grand portico at the front and there was a LOT of concrete.  These people weren't huge fans of grass, lawn and plants. 

Furthermore, these people clearly liked to park their cars, swim and be surrounded by high fences on all sides!!

We knew 'of' the people who lived there but we didn't associate with them.  Their name was Moran.

The times I recall being close to the fence at the rear and trying to peek through at the pool are unsettling.  That may be me projecting information I now have on an innocent memory but suffice to say the house was not on our list of homes to door knock when out selling our Girl Guide cookies!!!!

In hindsight, the conspiracy-theorist in me thinks that the location of the house with it's gravel-lot neighbors was a clever position when you're worried your enemies might decide to launch an  assault (and by enemies I'm thinking either the Police or other criminals equally).  With it's location on the main road it had easy access in and out....pretty good when you're wanting a quick getaway:)

There was a public/state school at the bottom of our street.  We didn't go there.  We were Catholic and we went to the Catholic school over on the other side of Epsom Road.  Once we were old enough we walked home most days.  My older sister, myself and my brother.  In later years I'm sure my other sister came too but my strongest memories of that trek to school is of just the three of us.

It was on those walks that I recall running into the kids from the state school.  Boys in groups.  One of those boys was Jason Moran.  I do remember him as throwing insults at us and making us feel unwelcome.  He was a loud-mouth.  I was scared of him and I was always glad we didn't run into him anymore than the odd time we did.

He used to ride around the neighborhood on his bike (a dragster I think) along with his mates.  We were certainly intimidated.  He was well aware even then of his power and influence as one of the Moran's.

I don't know if it's a figment of my imagination but I grew up thinking that nefarious business was going on in that house that these days we would refer to as a Compound.  I heard stuff about Abortion clinics and whilst I now know that those took place elsewhere under the watchful eye of the Mrs Moran senior it certainly casts a pall over the house.

In later years the house was painted Salmon Pink.  It wasn't a good look I feel.  The house and it's secrets deserved a more dignified choice of colour.

In even more recent years the house was home to Lewis Moran who was bequethed it by his mother (the practitioner of backyard abortions).  He made his own contribution to Ascot Vale's criminal reputation by his death at gunpoint in a cafe on Union Road.

My parents relocated many years ago up to an area outside Gisborne.  Sadly that area has been made famous of late as the final resting place of Jill Meagher.  Crime and ignominy are all around us it seems.

So there you have it.  My recollections of a house and my glimpse from not so afar of a family that lived a life in the shadows and had darkness in their future that my young mind couldn't even comprehend.  In contrast, our home just up past The Poles was miles apart. 

Our home was filled with it's share of darkness too but thankfully it was the more basic "domestic chaos" variety - moody, occasionally crazy father raising five children with our long-suffering mum.  That darkness was coupled with plenty of sunshine and brightness that is our family.  I'd take our house any day:)

Time Stands Still

Five years on.

Youngest KAT will reach that milestone having never met her grandpa.  She is now older than Middle KAT was in this photo with grandpa.

Oldest KAT is now a young women.  Grandpa only knew her barely out of her toddler years.

We've all aged.  Dad hasn't.  In my mind he is exactly as I last saw him.  Grey but not old.  His blue eyes as bright and his moustache as ticklish as always.

His anniversary sneaks up on me.  I think I'm fine and then I fall in a heap.

The tears are constant and salty.  The pain is physical, my throat is raw and my heart is so heavy.

Today I contemplated not wanting to see another one of these anniversaries approach.  It is harder every year when my mind thinks of all he's missed and all we've missed too.  I'm not a better person for this pain.

If it's possible I feel more vulnerable and permeable.  Why does grief sting so?  What purpose does it serve to continually return to this point. 

Twelve months of trying to live in the moment only to be back here again...back in that moment.  That moment when my world became a place where I did not want to be without him.

I have so much, but at the moment it's him I want.  Just to have him to talk to, to hug, to tell him how much I love him.

Then there's my mum.  How hard this is for her.  It breaks my heart.

These photos wouldn't meet the 'standard' that blogs should supposedly strive for.  But they capture a moment in time that I would give anything to repeat.  My parents, together....with me and with my family sharing the moment.

Those moments you don't realise are precious at the time.  Irreplaceable.

I love you dad.  I miss you.

Sodden and Stir Crazy

Long Weekends = perfect for crafty crowns and torturing the puppy

It's 5pm on Monday at the end of the long weekend. 

In our case it's the 4th day of the long weekend because the KATs had a pupil free day on Friday.........so our 'enjoyment' has been only enhanced by that one extra day of togetherness.

Can you detect my actual level of 'joy' from the tone of this post?

I love my KATs but by golly if it wasn't so bloody wet outside I'd be turfing them to the curb!  Clearly God hasn't grasped the concept that wet weather and long weekends should be mutually exclusive...especially where children and parents are concerned!!!!

We've got about 3hrs before they'll all be tucked up intact in their beds...so for evidentiary purposes here's some photographic evidence that I have attempted to be productive this weekend.

Yes, copious amounts of ice cream and chocolate sauce have been consumed but I deserve it goddamit!!!!

Yes the puzzle is upside down but it's still a puzzle which I get points for!!

Wet weather = good time to organize the dustables

More dustables and a home for my wallpaper collection!

Gumboots were well worn and look so lovely outside the new front door!!!

Truly a family of tossers in our Hunter boots (mine are adjustable for my chubby calves)

Time for a Home B fix but only after making the chocky self-saucing pud

Too wet to put the recycleables out in their bins!!!!

Given that it's only my family and friends who read my blog - hope you all had a good weekend:)

Saint Mike is in Ohio visiting his sister....her husband is due for a bone marrow transplant on Tuesday so right now is having his immune system killed off (literally) by Chemo...we are praying for him!  He's been trying to take her mind off their ordeal by plying her with wine and entertaining her twins...he's heading back to Toronto tomorrow to spend the remainder of the week visiting his mum in hospital.

I've been thinking of stopping my blog as most days it feels like I'm blogging to nowhere....the only reason I haven't stopped is that it's illuminating for our distant families as to what the KATs get up to and what's going on in my complex mind:)

Bummer, ending on a downer...thoughts of my sick brother-in-law and my ailing mother-in-law have invaded my mind...time to put the chocky pudding in the oven!!!

Arrivaderci

Weighing Heavily

Blogging has taken a back seat over the last few weeks due to an inordinate amount of stress that has descended upon the house of KATcapers for various reasons which I won't bore you with.

Today is a short post to pay homage to a wonderful woman who is currently really unwell, lying in a hospital bed a very long way away in Canada and therefore out of reach of any sort of physical contact which we would dearly love to extend.

This lovely lady is my mother-in-law.  She was taken to hospital with pneumonia and has given us all a very bad scare.  Unfortunately even though her immediate prognosis is good now that the IV has been boosting her system with much needed drugs and sustenance, she is never again going to be the same women I have come to know as she is struggling with advancing Parkinson's.

In her wisdom she decided to not tell her son (Saint Mike) that she had been diagnosed.  Despite us suspecting that something wasn't quite right, she soldiered on far away avoiding Skype as much as she could. 

As the disease progressed, she has become noticeably frailer and shakier. 

Each time she visited us over the last few years we had seen age advancing and felt waves of guilt that she had to travel halfway round the world to see her son and grandchildren.

The last few days have been very distressing.  To know that the woman I have come to know for the past 17 years is now so disabled that she cannot feed, clothe, bathe or assist herself (and the pneumonia wasn't the start of this) is very sad. 

I can honestly say she has never had a bad word to say to me.  She has never been anything other than supportive and caring.  She has only shown anger in my midst ONCE and that was the evening we told her we were moving back to Australia (after spending almost 2 years in Canada trying to adjust to my homesickness).  She was like any mother - devastated at the thought of her son moving so far away. 

Did she hold it against me?  NO!  She has visited us countless times and never demanded anything of me.  She is the most unassuming, kind-hearted and gentle lady you could meet.  Her son adores her, her grandchildren have only fond memories of her visits and her daughter-in-law couldn't ask for a lovelier Monster-in-law!

I wish I could give her a big hug.  Instead, we've sent flowers and the girls are doing cards.  Saint Mike is allowing me to be irresponsible and insist that he gets on a plane to Canada asap....time is of the essence and getting home to be there for his mum in her hour of need is what he will want to remember...not waiting until she's even more debilitated or possibly no longer able to talk to him at all.

Ageing sucks.  Enough said. 

the basics escape me

Most of the time I masquerade as a perfectly competent adult, parent, wife, friend/foe. 

Why then am I completely incapable of managing the basics in my house? 

Last night for the fifty billionth (okay slight exaggeration) Saint Mike had to make a run to the supermarket to pick up bread and milk.

How can I manage to go out multiple times a day and be either in or near a shop just as many times and yet fail to remember to stock up on these essentials???

I'd like to say this just makes me a 'big picture' person.......................but reality is that it just makes me a crap housewife!!! 

Truthfully, it's just the tip of the iceberg.  I am a serial offender at the 'leaving the house looking a shambles' including unmade beds, dishes not loaded into the dishwasher, clothes in piles on the floor.......I could go on.

Most of the time this doesn't bother me, but occasionally I get really pissed off at myself and want to give myself a big smack!

Today however, I can't be bothered doing that so instead I'll just blog about it :)

Is it only me that forgets the basics?

Open letter to our imminent furball

 

Dear Furball,

 

In only three more sleeps you will be meeting us for the first time.
That would be three more nights that you will cuddle up to your mummy...or at least within sniffing distance of her.
Three more nights that you will nod off to doggie dreamland having done nothing but "frolic and frootle" (in the inimitable words of Lynley Dodd and Hairy Maclary).

 

In light of this, I felt it appropriate to apologise in advance for some shortcomings that your new life at Casa KATcapers may present.

 

You see, we are canine-novices of the first order.  Saint Mike and I have spent a good part of the last five years trying to avoid this very reality.  Like many other parents, we adopted the approach of 'delay' for as long as possible (truth be known SM could have persisted in this strategy but I'm a big wimp and gave in).

 

So, as not to make this an inordinately long letter...here's a short list of things I'm predicting you may find contribute to your general state of doggy anxiety and neurosis:

 

• Feeling as though someones turned the volume up and it doesn't have an off button!!!! 

Yes, you are entering a home dominated by screaming girls.  Initially the screaming will be in delight at your awesome cuteness but after the initial excitement wears off it will just be generally LOUD! 

 

• Why are these children confusing me with a build-a-bear?

Though I am discouraging it, there seems to be a 'theme' running through the discussions between the KATs which suggests that you may find yourself in a rather fetching 'bridal' outfit complete with veil, slippers and white frock!!!  I will attempt to dissuade this and if necessary confiscate such items but I can't promise there won't be at least a few incidents...remember these are resourceful girls known to wrap up barbie sarong-like with a face-washer secured around her mid-section with a hair elastic!!

 

• Why is there a big picture of a lady with WARNING in large red letters outside the front door??

This is a woman whose instructive advice on learning that we were soon to be blessed with your presence was one word - Drugs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes, she helpfully suggested giving you something to 'help you sleep'.  In the interests of your safety, the KATs felt it necessary to keep her at a safe distance.............beware the drug-peddling Nana!!!!

 

• Finally, what lunatic decided to call me Salvador and can I get my micro-chip altered?

Okay, I think I should wear this one....................
In a moment of mindlessness (scarily coinciding with being behind the wheel of the car) I suggested that it would be fun to name you after Salvador Dali as one of the KATs best friends has a cavoodle named Pablo...................
To be fair, I did say that we could call you 'Sally' for short which I think is quite sweet.  At least now you know who's foot to crap on :)

 

I do promise that SM and I will do our utmost to protect you from the extremes of affection that our KATs can be capable of.  We are reminding them daily that squeezing the life out of you is not a form of affection and that oldest KAT has a dismal track record having almost smothered a guinea pig at the zoo as a toddler!!!!

 

Yours sincerely,

 

Your loving owner

New years eve non-event...no matter!

Welcome to 2012.

I'll start with the obligatory "happy new year"!!

If you're reading this with the remains of a hangover good for you!

It would not take much to have welcomed in 2012 with more fanfare than us.  I'd like to say that it's having children that makes us boring on New Years Eve but that would be a dead-set lie...we were boring on NY Eve way before kids came along!!!

This one takes the cake though.  We had a 'hodpodge' dinner of left over snags in bread and potato salad which left me feeling decidedly uninspired and then went for a walk/scooter up to a local highpoint to watch the fireworks down at Manly. 

For a few minutes I thought we were truly the most desperately boring family as it was ONLY us taking up position at 8:45pm but by 9pm there was about another half a dozen families who'd also thought this spot may have a decent view. 

There's something a bit underwhelming about fireworks off in the distance with no musical accompaniment or crowd noise.  The girls were a bit ho-hum about it and so were the adults.  We all cleared out within minutes and headed home in the dark.

Once the KATs were put to bed, we sat and watched the selection of crap TV that was on offer.

I managed to stay up til midnight and see the bridge/harbour display (which was fantastic I thought) and then went to bed.  No alcohol had been consumed since a midori and lemon squash before dinner.  Bleak!!!!

The thing is though, I don't really care!  I feel fairly relaxed and we have been spending our days doing quite a lot of incidental exercise and hanging out at the local swimming pool with the KATs. 

Sydney weather has finally managed to pull itself together and we're all enjoying some warmth.  I've even managed to get sunburnt (much to SM's annoyance).

I haven't contemplated any NY resolutions as it's just Business As Usual in the "personal inventory" department for me - keep exercising, remember to be 'more than I think I can be' which means jogging to the pool instead of walking (and feeling great about my fitness) and not beating myself up about enjoying festive indulgences.

It's all good and I feel great.  Hope you do too :)

Image from here - gee that Marc Newson is a talented bloke!!

Roadtripping to the land of the less fortunate

Today I managed to tick off my last 'to do' of the school year. 

It involved my second road trip in a week out to Auburn (a suburb of Sydney).

The round trip took an hour and a bit and was accompanied by my current favourite Christmas CD by the rather yummy Michael Buble.

Along for the ride today was our Oldest KAT and Middle KAT.  They were there as my 'roadies' and they did a stellar job with minimal complaints.

What was this roadtrip in aid of?  Let me explain...

A couple of months ago I acted on an idea that had been festering away for a while...it involved recycling all the no longer required stationery that our kids accumulate at the end of each school year...you know, the stuff that's perfectly good and COULD be reused the following year...but my how they all love to take the stationery list and go crazy getting NEW bits and bobs!!

What happens to all that perfectly good stationery?  It goes towards my household clutter...filling drawers, spilling out of containers and generally contributing very little in a household that is well catered for already in the colored pens, crayons and marker department.

So instead, I decided to organize a stationery drive and collect all the unwanted 'stationery stuff'' at our small school and take it out to our 'sister' school which is in the starkly underprivileged and heavily migrant community of Auburn.

Two car trips later, the school now has colored pens, markers, crayons, erasers, rulers, paper and a few other bits and pieces that were donated and this can all be passed onto families that cannot afford to furnish their young-uns with newly purchased 'stuff'. 

I am guilty of spending an inordinate amount of time in the "it's all about me" zone.....doing this has made me feel useful and that I have contributed to another community in a useful and helpful way.  I was also pleased that it gave us an opportunity to remind the KATs and their school mates of the needs of those less fortunate than themselves!

So, whilst this might not be what we think of when 'roadtrip' is mentioned, it's a roadtrip I was happy to take :)

My very own Clark

Unless you live under a rock it's a bit hard to fail to notice the imminent arrival of the festive season!

In our house that signals the emergence of another of Saint Mike's alter egos - Clark Griswold...he of National Lampoons Vacations fame.  For those of you living under above mentioned rock...this will have you shaking your head in ignorance!!

Being Canadian, SM has a thing for Christmas...in his old neighborhood there are two times of year for houses to be preened to an inch of their lives...summer, or more specifically July/August when the snow has thawed, the ground has softened and the gardens are in their glory....and December when the christmas lights get put up!

This will be our fifth christmas in our house and last year (the 4th) SM really hit his stride in the ornamentation department.  We actually became a neighborhood sensation of sorts with cars driving by to see our display and people walking past with their children.

In the spirit of our very own neighborhood Clark, I've organized a neighborhood drinks & nibblies to celebrate the season of Saint Mike!!

As he's quite the traditionalist, the display will not be erected until the first weekend in December, so we've got a couple of weeks to wait.....bring it on I say :)