Our 20th Christmas Together

Yesterday, Sylvia and I realized that 2023 marks our 20th Christmas celebrated together. Sylvia's mom captured a nice photo of us to save the moment. 
 

My Mother's Mother

Our Mother's Day plans for this year were partially foiled by weather, COVID-19, and family illness, but Sylvia and I managed brief visits with her mother and mine to check in and wish them well. This Mother's Day I'm particularly grateful that Mom remains healthy and sharp-minded, and that she's now fully vaccinated against COVID-19. Fingers crossed this also means she's protected against the new variants bubbling up around the world, but luckily Mom is smart and cautious so I'm confident she's going to be okay. 

Earlier today Mom sent over this photo of her mother, my maternal grandmother. It was taken on the Leask farm sometime in the 19-teens. She looks quite vibrant here! It's an image I've never seen before, and I'm grateful to have it - not as grateful as I am to have Mom, of course. 

Before COVID

Here's a nice image of Sylvia's parents in Mom and Dad's back yard from a few years back. I know it's only been six weeks since much of the world went into self isolation, but scenes like this already seem like they belong to another era. 

Double Trouble

Fun with the iPad at Sylvia's parents' place last night. 

Rubber Falls Flat

Last night Sylvia and I watched Quentin Dupieux's absurdist comedy-fantasy Rubber. I enjoyed it well enough, though I wish it had been a little less self-consciously clever and a little funnier. For Sylvia, however, the movie fell flat - as did, in a strange coincidence, our right front tire after having lunch at Creole Envie with her parents. Thankfully Sylvia's father Gill came to the rescue and slapped on the emergency spare.


Two weeks ago Sylvia warned me that the right front tired seemed to be losing air. But as is sometimes my wont, I merely nodded and promised to fill it soon. Naturally I forgot, leading to today's embarrassing pit stop.

I wouldn't blame Sylvia at all if she considered both the film and my cavalier attitude toward auto maintenance somewhat...tiresome. 

In-Laws on a Summer's Eve

For no other reason that this is a nice picture and for my gratitude to the Bouchers for bringing Sylvia into the world, here are my in-laws as they were on Saturday night. Still a fetching couple.

The Thrill of Victory, the Agony of Wii-feat

Click to embiggen to enjoy the drama!

Spill Life

When Sylvia and I moved in together back in 2004, over a dozen of our friends generously pitched in to help. During any move accidents are almost inevitable, and I managed to capture this one on film mere seconds after the accident.

Crokinole Christmas

 

Mom and Dad's new crokinole board.

Mom and Dad purchased a new crokinole set a few months ago, so I invited them to bring it over on Christmas day. I had forgotten, however, that Dad is very good at this game - so much so that he and his father, my grandfather William James Woods, were allowed to compete in tournaments, but banned from playing on the same team.

 

Dad shoots.

Dad hasn't lost any of his skill, or if he has, he must have been a fearsome spectacle during the competitions of his youth. Sean and I struggled to beat him, succeeding only once. Sylvia and the in-laws were similarly overwhelmed, although I should note that Mom is pretty good too, and the in-laws picked up the game pretty quickly.

Sylvia's dad flicks his disc.

Crokinole is a Canadian game, about a century old. It's similar to curling or shuffleboard; the idea is to flick wooden checkers (called "discs" in the game's parlance) with your finger toward the centre of the board, knocking opponent checkers out of the arena. The first person (or team) to reach 100 points wins. 

A disc bounces into the ditch.

 A black disc bounces unsuccessfully off Mom's bullseye-occupying disc.

The game can get pretty fierce when a disc falls into the slightly depressed bullseye; under certain circumstances, it's permissible to attempt to flick the checker out of the hole. If flicked with sufficient force, checkers can turn into projectiles quite capable of knocking over beverage containers or bruising skin.

There's a so-called "one-cheek rule" which states that players cannot stand or leave their chair when shooting; they may lean over if they need to, as long as one buttock remains in contact with the seat. This can make some shots pretty tough.

Here's a brief video of one of our matches. Slightly NSFW language from my brother, enraged by a missed shot: