Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Family Day

This weekend, Sullivan discovered the goodness that is Paul McCartney on vinyl. Here's the thing: I didn't know I owned any Paul McCartney records but, as it turns out, I own three. Or Barclay does. Or maybe they're Sullivan's? Where the heck did they come from? None of us know; they just appeared on the pile between Stevie Nicks and Monty Python yesterday and we've been spinning them ever since on the boxy old record player Barclay's dad gave us.

Sullivan has been thrilled—thrilled—at finding yet another music source. He's like a little sound archaeologist, digging around every room in our house and dredging up everything that makes noise of any kind, carefully uncovering it and figuring it out and sharing it with us as though we couldn't possibly know what it is or what it does. It's my favourite thing.

So that set the tone for our day off yesterday: I came out of the bedroom in the morning to find Sully sitting on the floor beside the crackling record player, grinning like he'd struck rare dinosaur bones, Barclay leafing through the album liner, a half-finished puzzle on the table. We didn't have anywhere we needed to be; everything felt settled and cozy and sweet.

We made a big brunch, chilled for a bit, and then walked to the Conexus for Waskimo (a little winter festival here in Regina). It was the perfect day for it—+7 and sunny (for those of you in the warmer climates: yes, we consider that good outdoor weather. I even saw a few people in shorts and t-shirts yesterday).

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Winter in Saskatchewan is unavoidable, long, and extreme—so why don't we have more events like this to give ourselves something to look forward to? Having something to look forward to, even something little or silly or short, is SO GOOD FOR YOUR BRAIN. Especially when your brain is encased in a layer of thick ice for eight months of the year. We need stuff to keep our heads buzzing so the snow can't settle inside them.

And yesterday, heads were buzzing. Everyone was just so dang happy to be outside. The city's morale-o-meter must have shot up 90%.

They cleared the lake off and had ice sailing and snow cricket and sleigh rides and shinny and outhouse races. There was an indoor element as well, with magicians and face painting and whatnot, but we didn't even make it in there because we were just so sun-starved.

Then we went home and made hot chocolate and watched Sesame Street while listening to Paul McCartney on the record player—at Sullivan's request. It was noisy, yeah, but not in an unrelaxed way. Barclay tuned it all out and fell asleep on the floor.

The perfect family day.