A holiday request

Rob and his brother left our Christmas dinner celebrations last night and headed directly to the hospital emergency room with their mother.

She has been losing weight off her already tiny frame for a month now, ever since the worm turned and food suddenly went from cherished friend to cruel enemy, bent on extracting painful revenge on her stomach and bowels. Tests and doctor visits have only lead one to another, prolonging an excruciating waiting game,

Perhaps it was the contrast between her emaciated frame and the robustness of the season that made us all say "enough": perhaps it was the way she lay curled up in pain for hours on the couch after attempting to partake of the abundance we all abused.

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I awoke this morning after little sleep to find that our Christmas tree had unexpectedly crashed to the floor, leaving a tsunami of shattered glass and wayward needles in its wake.

I barked at Graham to stay back. My robe gaped in a most undignified manner as I grunted and heaved and ultimately failed to upright it. I collapsed in a frustrated heap on the couch, weighing waking my husband from sleep visited him scant hours ago against heading to my parents house and leaving the tree laying there as what? A forlorn symbol of something of which we dare not speak?

"Don't worry mommy. Don't be so homesick mommy. I'm here to help."

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My wonderful mother in law has been admitted to the hospital and is receiving nutrients intravenously: she is in excellent hands and we are optimistic doctors will help her return to her energetic and vibrant self. I humbly request that you add her to your prayers this holiday season or simply send love and positive thoughts in her general direction.

Guess who's coming for lunch?

Yes, the picture is blown out.

But Santa is a very busy guy. And when he just all of a sudden shows up on your doorstep to say a quick hello you don't ask him to wait while you fiddle with the settings on your camera.

You just point and shoot.

And hope that maybe, just maybe, you will have captured for prosterity a tiny fraction of the excitement in the air and the wonder in your child's eyes.

Wonder who the car is for?

Everyone was pretty excited...

..but cousin Jordan couldn't even fit in it...



...and Cailey bulged out of it in a most unseemly manner...



...so no one was really surprised...

...that Graham was a perfect fit!

Wordless Wednesday

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

Yes, I know it's Thursday. It's the Christmas season: I'm behind on everything.

Bringing the magic

You probably don’t give much thought to the people who work behind the scenes of your favorite films and television shows.

They are the men and women toiling in the shadows producing the magical sets, glorious costumes and brilliant special effects that light up the screen.

They style the hair and apply the dashing scars that make you swoon. They hang scaffolding and position lights to create the shadows that beguile you. They mic actors and record the dialogue that brings tears to your eyes. They drive trucks and hammer nails and paint flats and take care of a million small details that all come together for your pleasure and someone else’s glory.

This is the world in which my husband and I work. It is a freelance world often marked by back-breaking labour, impossible deadlines, uncertainty and frustration.

On Saturday these people; these drivers, carpenters, painters, labourers, electrics, grips, prop masters, set dressers, greens technicians, wardrobe stylists, hair dressers, makeup artists, special effects technicians, sound mixers, boom operators and script supervisors came together and produced a massive children’s Christmas party.

It was a luminous affair, this winter wonderland that rose out of a previously dark and barren studio. It was born of tireless work ethics, a strong sense of family and brilliant creative spirit.

And once again what these people created was magic. Only this time it was for the people who truly love and appreciate them the most.

Thanks guys.