I'm an Aunt!

I'll explain this in a minute.

Easter weekend.  Sandy and I headed out Friday morning to visit her sister and family in Owen Sound, a town about 120 miles Northwest of Toronto.  The drive usually takes about three hours, three and a half on weekends such as this when the cops are out.  God I hate doing the speed limit.

I took a few photos during the trip...

         Rufus,a Goldendoodle (Retreiver/Poodle mix), impossibly
         huggable. We ran and wrestled a lot.

            Scooter, a Cavashon (Bijon Frise/King Charles Cavalier
            spaniel mix).  I didn't wrestle with him as I was afraid I'd
            break him in half.  Which I didn't think would make him twice
            as cute.

He'd chew my ankles off if he knew I was posting this.  Like it's not

humiliating enough that someone removes your happy bits, they

just HAVE to stick a cone on your head.

He spent a lot of time doing this.  Hey if I had the ability to lick

myself and couldn't I'd be bummed too.

My Life As an Aunt...

Some of you have remarked that I seem to be very in touch with my feelings. This is something which isn't usually perceived as a typically male trait, but I'm okay with agreeing as I have plenty of masculine thoughts (some of which won't see the light of day here as they're deliciously out of keeping with this blog). However this little guy took that whole 'getting in touch with your feminine side' thing way too far...

Meet Declan, Sandy's niece's (Rhonda's) four-year-old son.  We were playing 'baseball' in the backyard, and every time he wanted me to throw the ball he'd say, "Yeddy auntie Bawey?"  Which was a verbal way of ripping out my testicles and throwing them out in the trash with Scooter's.  I was afraid I'd wake up in the morning with a cone on my head.

Sandy's sister Maureen and her niece Rhonda declined pictures as they weren't feeling photogenic.  Declan's twin brother Derek declined a picture because...I don't know, he's four.  Who the hell knows what's going through a four-year-old's mind?

Friday night Sandy and I stayed at The Doctor's Inn bed and breakfast, an 1876 Victorian Inn...

Owners Laurie and Steve were our gracious hosts...

Breakfast in the dining room...

consisted of homemade cinnamon buns, juices, bacon and Belgian waffles with whipped cream and fresh fruit.  My plate...

Saturday morning we all went to the local museum for an Easter egg hunt.  If you want to see the definition of awkward watch me attempt to pick up and hold onto a four-year-old boy.  About as graceful as a one-armed man trying to juggle a dozen penguins. No picture, sorry. 

But here's the Easter egg hunt, for ages four and under.  Picture a swarm of 35 pound locusts in pastels and diapers decending on a field, half with no clue of what they're looking for, and you get the idea.

Just what these kids need, more sugar and caffiene...

After the hunt we left for home.  Some photos I took along the way...

At one point we passed by a wind farm.  The wind turbine generators stretched out for miles, there seemed to be hundreds of them...

We arrived home Saturday afternoon, freshened up and went back out a couple hours later for Easter dinner at my brother Steve and his fiance Bobbi's home.  With both sides of the family there we had about nineteen people.  Overall a good time.