I suppose the biggest development since I last wrote is that this furry fellow is no longer with us. He developed a cancerous tumour on his leg in the fall, underwent surgery and developed another, faster growing, tumour in the following weeks. Soon, it was clear that the cancer had spread to other parts of his body. (I will spare you the details.) The decision was made very quickly that Sammy couldn't, and shouldn't, have to live another night and Dave took him to the farm, both literally and figuratively. I'll spare you those details as well, suffice to say that his end was humane. Ben and Dave were the most grief-stricken and I was more struck by their grief than any feelings toward the dog. The truth is that I really don't like indoor animals and I am very much enjoying a new, dog-free life. Sorry if that sentiment offends any readers, but I was constantly annoyed by the barking, the dirt and the animal waste. (Sammy may very well be enjoying an Elena-free life now.) He was a good dog, though, and for that I am thankful.
This is just a photo I found on the computer amidst a dearth of photo-taking. Have you noticed your spelling starting to slip now that technologies like autocorrect exist? I just tried spelling dearth three times before hitting upon the correct spelling. Most of my writing is done on an iPad and autocorrect and autosuggest are only too willing to fix and complete many of my words. Oh dear.
The middle boys, Ben and Joe, enjoyed a wonderful day in Ottawa with their school at Winterlude. Among a wide range of activities, they had a chance to skate on the Canada 150 rink at the Parliament Buildings. The teachers led 95 students from grades 3-8 on an expedition that left at 6:30am and arrived back at 8pm. Upon return, Dave had to wait with one student for 30 minutes for the student's mother who had the pick-up time wrong. Serendipitously, she felt so badly that she dropped off a large box of Lindor chocolate balls as a thank you - on the night before Lent started. Fat Tuesday became even fatter. Speaking of weight gain, I might as well announce that I am 18 weeks pregnant with Afelskie no.8.
This is a very-much-hoped-for addition and has been one of the most nerve-wracking pregnancies to date since I miscarried last March at 12 weeks. I find it very hard to commit the reality of this pregnancy to print as I still find it so very, very hard to believe that I will be holding a baby in my arms come August.
However, all seems well and I am under the excellent care of a doctor in Ottawa who specialises in miscarriage. Part of the new protocol is that Dave has to administer progesterone injections to me twice a week. There really is nothing in life that can prepare one for one's spouse approaching with an 18-gauge needle.
And to end, and as a testimony to the talent and courage of grade-school teachers everywhere, here is the group of kids that Dave and some other responsible adults manage to bring to Ottawa and successfully bring back home again.
