Dreaming of a white Christmas: days 356 — 364

It’s a low-key kind of time, between Christmas and the New Year. I’m hanging out at my parents’ place; I’ve seen both my brothers (plus sister-in-law and nephew), and I’ll go to my twin brother’s place in Montreal for NYE, as per our custom. Christmas happened a bit late, because it wasn’t until yesterday that we all got together and exchanged gifts. We’re not huge on gift-giving, so it was mostly the nephew receiving stuff.

My last day of work for the year started out super dramatic, cloud-wise. I chose a shot including a bare tree, to remind myself this was also the day after the solstice, and the days would get longer and warmer from now on.

Speaking of work, can’t forget the office dogs: Donut (pug) and Spoof (Samoyed). They were the centre of attention, as pretty much every remaining employee was crowding around them taking pics or videos. I’ll miss them for sure. I could have used some of Spoof’s fur in Ottawa. As much as I love a white Christmas, I’m just not used to Ottawa winters anymore.

It was nice to see the old ‘hood again though, either taking as quick photo as we got home, or taking a walk in the wintery twilight.

And of course, this is the season to see movies with the family.

And go to a museum with the little one. Last year it was the Museum of Nature (you know, the one that looks like a big old castle) because what 3 year old boy doesn’t love dinosaurs? This year it was all about machines and stuff. I’d been there before, many times, but only once since I was a child. In my head I still picture the big locomotives as absolutely gigantic, 100 feet tall at least. Oh, the good old days, when I was tiny and everything towered over me.

Speaking of good old days, my parents have a bunch of really old books in the living room. I love reading L’Encyclop├ędie de la jeunesse. Yes, the stories are sanitised and bowdlerised and the whole thing is seriously racist, sexist, classist and overall 100 years behind the times, but… y’know, it’s fun to read how people thought. Or at least how people thought upper-middle-class French kids ought to think.

Plus it was still really cold and I didn’t feel up to going outside to take a photo.

Tomorrow: New Year’s Eve in Montreal.

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