I don't think I need to complain about the difficulty of this winter. My last words will be six months: six months of snow on the ground. That's all; see below. Once March Break rolled around, we knew we needed some sort of escape, even if only to the 0-8 degrees promised by Halifax. Also, we are moving to the farm this summer and needed our present house empty for a week so that the ground floor could be painted. This is our first time hiring a painter and I doubt I will ever yield a brush again.
Matthew and I travelled alone, flying out to Halifax on the first Saturday of March Break. Dave drove with five kids on the Saturday as well, arriving in Halifax on Sunday. Jacob and Hannah went to Texas with my parents. Not sure who got the best deal...
This is Matthew waiting patiently for food at the airport restaurant.
We stayed in an empty rectory that my younger sister acquired for us. Here is Joseph reunited with Matthew after the long drive. We stayed in a very sketchy part of Dartmouth. Dave and I went for a walk one evening and happened across a memorial to a murdered girl only 200 metres from the rectory. I suppose these are the sorts of accommodations one expects from an order dedicated to Lady Poverty. On my first morning there, I unknowingly went running along a strip known for its prostitution. I don't think there was any chance I could have been picked up. (See photos 4 and 19.)
Ben reunited with baby brother. Baby brother with angry eyebrows.
I realise that the landscape doesn't look like much of a Springy escape, but the temps were higher than Ontario. We went running as a family one morning in Point Pleasant Park. It was interesting. We ran into a dog walker with ten dogs and he looked eerily similar to our configuration. Matthew needed to nurse part way through the run, so I accommodated him, funny sunglasses and all.
Life with older brothers. I once read that having many sons is to constantly be in someone's sites. This is quite literally true.
The much-beloved aunt. My sister stayed with me at the rectory on the Saturday night before the rest of the crew pulled in. When Dave arrived on Sunday afternoon, Mariana was desperate to see me. However, when the rectory door opened, she began to yell Mommy until she suddenly caught sight of Aunt Martha and ran straight to her arms instead.
We drove to the Valley and spent a day at Wolfville and the nearby beach. Muddy flats forever. Wise mom that I am, I had each kid pack extra clothes, proving that after all these years, I've learned a thing or two.
Photos look infinitely better in black and white.
One of the odd parts of the trip was that we ran into a house and stores that bore our children's names. Sadly I didn't take a photo of the Sarah store nor the house just over Matthew's shoulder called Matthew's haven. Nevertheless, the below restaurant in which we ate hamburgers and left behind copious fries was called Joe's.
It was a BOGO event on burgers, so dinner was refreshingly affordable.
Same genetic material scattered liberally throughout.
More restaurant.
Joe at Joe's.
Sarah with Anne of Green Gables.
My sister's order offered to feed the kids supper and babysit one evening so that Dave and I could go out for supper. The kids ate kid food and Dave and I ate Thai. While the older kids watched
Father Brown with my sister, Mariana sat and played with this lovely sister using Monopoly pieces as characters.
Dave and I not eating Thai.
Joe with a Joey train. We have never called Joseph Joey, but Mariana always calls Ben Benny and Joe Joey. She does this with such frequency that the new 'y' names have caught on.
This second-son apartment building was in Wolfville and I couldn't resist a photo. Judging by the way Ben's standing, I think that the apartment building bolstered his confidence.
My parents have always called me Nena (which is a nickname for nina/little girl in Spanish). The formal name, as well as the nickname, come down through my father's mother who was born in Mexico and named after her nanny. I think that I can legitimately lay claim to this breakfast house.
That Nena photo was snapped on our last run in Halifax during which we ran across the Macdonald Bridge, thus running from one city to another. We stopped exactly halfway in order to take a photo, but my iPhone died on photo 2 due to the moisture and high winds. I felt a great deal of empathy for my poor phone because I often feel the same way on runs.
Penultimate photo with aunt.
Attention fades as thoughts shift to home.
Dave and the five kids stayed overnight in New Brunswick on the trip back to Ontario while I flew out the following day. Thus, Ben decided that he wanted to learn how to put Sarah's hair into a ponytail. I failed to ask how it turned out on the actual trip. The practice was very sweet to watch.
Matthew and I waiting in the Halifax airport. The surprising aspect of this trip was that Matthew revealed himself as an extroverted baby and an incredible traveller. Having spent 6 of his 8 months in winter and being the eighth in the family, Matthew hasn't ventured outside his home very much except for mass on Sundays and Play and Pray on Wednesdays. Thus, this trip spotlighted his sunny and easygoing personality as he eagerly interacted with anyone and everyone in the airport and, when not interacting, slept peacefully on my lap. Wow.
Cute extra photo memorializing the necessity of Cheerios when travelling.
