I am stealing and modifying this idea/meme from Eric at The Electronic Firefly. Considering the three headings, it may not look like a list of ten, but I think it can be broken down that way. I see four items under music, three under baby, and at least three more under Arizona. It simply suits me more to exposit rather than to itemize and list.
One day last July, we drove Butterfly to the fertility clinic in Ottawa. On the way we spied a bunny (or were there several – I can't recall exactly and it doesn't matter). Thinking of the reproductive capacity of rabbits, I somewhat but not altogether jokingly remarked that it must be a positive omen. Several weeks later, Butterfly gave us a little gift; I opened the bag to find two baby booties inside.
We were told that it was early days, "So don't get too excited." Hah! As if we could help it. I decided that I would get excited and would deal with the disappointment later if all did not turn out well. Mother-to-be is now in her fifth month, and I still hold to the same philosophy. I can't imagine not being excited.
My excitement mounts higher when I see little Smudge's ultrasound pictures or hear her (we think she's a she) strong heartbeat on the monitor, or see the increasing visible evidence as Mom begins to round out perceptibly as it does in this most recent picture. All of a sudden, she's really looking as though she's with child, and I look even more forward to being enchanted in April.
One day last summer, I sat on a hillside in nearby Almonte listening to a Celtic music concert. The weather was splendid, warm and sunny but not overly hot. As the day wore on and the music continued to roll over us and through us, I thought, "This would never happen in Sarnia." It was then that I realized that I was at home: home in a way that I never was in Sarnia.
It's a musical area. I guess there's lots of modern, urban stuff in nearby Ottawa, but there's also a lot of old time fiddlin in The Valley. Finding the Celtic Jam in tiny Middleville was a case in point. As I said, however, there's all kinds of music around and about inclduing the rather major Country Fest that Cuppa and I volunteered at this summer. While I'm not a huge fan of country, I don't particularly mind it, and working guard duty for much of the weekend was a positive experience. And I musn't forget how Cape Breton Live packed out the auditorium twice in a last minute event that hadn't even been scheduled. Remarkable.
It must have all inspired me in some way because I soon found myself renting a violin, then beginning lessons, and finally buying my very own instrument. Actually, it wasn't really a new idea; taking up the fiddle was something that I had placed on the backburner of my mind several years ago. Somehow, surrounded by all of the music this year, it seemed to be the right time and place to move it from the backburner to the hotter front burner.
Time passes quickly, and late in 2005, Cuppa and I realized that it had been quite a while since we had been on a trip. Arizona and the Grand Canyon seemed to be calling, so we began to make arrangements and ended up flying from Ottawa to Phoenix via Toronto late in April. (It seems that good things happen in April.)
We rented a car and headed to Flagstaff which became our base camp for four days. From there we made day trips to the Grand Canyon and Sedona. Later in the week we drove to Monument Valley where we took a private three hour tour with a Navajo guide. Without doubt, it was the highlight of the week. By saying that, I don't diminish the other sites, including the next and final one, Canyon de Chelly, where we walked in this desert valley for three hours with an old Navajo guide and a young British couple. It turned out that both the old guide and the young couple could leave us in the dust. Well, they could have but they were kind, and we had a great time.
A real highlight of the trip was meeting our first bloggers ever: Paul and Julie in Flagstaff, and Dale and Chelsea in Phoenix. Based on this experience, I highly recommend meeting fellow bloggers. They were (and still are, I'm sure) wonderful, warm, friendly people. In fact, maybe meeting these folk was even better than Monument Valley. Hmmm.
I'm sure that I could add to this list if I were to ponder longer, but I must resist the temptation and give you fine folk a break, not to mention my easily over-taxed brain.