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Posts Tagged ‘eyes’

 

The tiny hand stretched and grabbed my thumb. The grip was inexperienced and relied on reflex. It opened out again and the slender fingers bounced back to regain their position. The delicate skin was soft and new. It belonged to my ten day old grandson, Jack, and I marvel at the life force that emanates from his tiny 2 kilogram frame. Oh how I relish those words…. ‘ my grandson!’ There are tell tale physical signs of his lineage too. The shape of his mouth, his ‘Morkel chin’ and a few other bits and pieces that I feel certain he would not want you to know about. No doubt they will be pulled up for an embarrassing anecdote at a 21st or some such like event. There are bound to be some ‘streke’ that will be displayed in a fractious toddler. I expect that will be all ouma’s fault. I have come to realise that in an all male household, I have to take ownership of ‘my streke.’ One thing is for sure it will certainly give him character!

A tiny hand....

A tiny hand….


She nuzzled up close and opened her eyes. It was as if those one week old deep blue eyes were sizing me up. So who do we have here? She watched me move and turned her head slowly towards me. I jabber on and she listens attentively. The tiny rose bud mouth puckers as if she is dying to add to the conversation. This is my grand daughter Kate. Oh to have a little girl in our family!She is soft and feminine and already has her dad wrapped around her little finger.


It is my watch and as their Nan I keep a close eye. I observe these 2 new little people and notice that Kate appears to show an interest in the family that tends her. Her deep blue eyes track me across the room. Jack on the other hand gazes out of the window and picks up on the movement outside. I wonder to myself if this is indicative of the little personalities that we shall soon get to know 


Kate  is curled up next to me on the couch and Jack is in his ‘swing seat’ on my left. The little bodies sigh and squeak softly. Peace reigns for the moment and all is right with the world. The twins are asleep.

 

Nan on duty....

Nan on duty….

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Union Station, Toronto.

It was after midnight and we had had a night in the city with friends.
There had been much laughter and plenty of red wine consumed. We screamed around the corner and up 3 flights of stairs to the awaiting train to Oakville. My legs felt like lead as I lifted my high heeled boots up the steep steps. All the indulgence and folly played havoc with my steadfast trot.
“I would like to meet the MAN who designed this station! No woman in her right mind would have conjured up this 3 tiered climb to be completed at a furious pace.”
I was later to learn that it was in fact designed by a group of male architects from Montreal and Toronto. I knew it!
When the Prince of Wales had opened Union Station in 1927, he had apparently said: You build your stations like we build our cathedrals.
I suppose that was meant to be a compliment, except that cathedrals and stations have very different purposes. One is visited with reverence and a sense of stillness in us. The other is usually with our hearts pounding in our chests, while our eyes flash over the train schedule searching for the correct platform. This is only displayed minutes before the train departs. Once up, all passengers surge forward and  the aortas immediately pump into action.
The haunting hoot signaled the departure of the Go Train and we sit back and sigh. A call of nature demands that I find the restroom. I stumble up and spot it behind a staircase on the upper level. I maneuvered myself into the small space and contemplated the toilet seat. It did not appear to have seen any disinfectant for quite some time so I decided to perch over it. The train swayed back and forth and I concentrated on the correct position to do the deed. My wobbly legs, that had been weakened by my night of folly and the recent clamber, did little to stabilize me. Eventually the mission was completed and I could sit back and close my eyes for the rest of the trip home.
The following week a friend and I decided to have a day in the big city to view a garden show. Spring was in the air and we were both making plans for our new gardens that we had in our care. We hurriedly made it down to the station but there was no parking. We decided that each should be assigned a duty……you park the car and I will buy the tickets. I fumbled for my purse; we had 5 minutes till the next train. Tickets were bought and I anxiously awaited the arrival of my companion. I scanned the faces but recognized no one. The train rolled into the station and still no friend. The 5 minute wait felt like 30 and the train trundled off. What do I do now? The next train is a whole hour from now! But it was about to get worse.  My quick thinking and somewhat harassed friend had actually jumped on the last train. I was left clutching the tickets! She thought that I had also hopped on board.
An hour wait ensued before I could embark on the journey once more and meet up with her further down along the line. It was worth it, as we both got to enjoy a read of the morning papers in the blazing March sun while we waited for our next ride. We did get to drink in the splendours of the spring flowers at the show too!

Spring is in the air!

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