Mini-Marvelous March

Despite all the negative experiences and schtuff we've been going through in 2012 thus far, I have had some lovely and even glorious moments...

like Torran's birthday weekend. Saturday, a housefull of friends and their young children storming with glee through the house followed by a quieter evening of snacks with family (well, save for my Mum who was still in hospital, sadly); Sunday an excursion to White Meadows Maple Syrup Farm on Effingham St. with the boys (go early if you want to eat on site - the line up can be an hour long) with the boys followed by a simple evening of embroidery with a couple of my SCAdian clan. Oh, by the way, if you venture to White Meadows and don't want to eat there, we found a lovely little bakery/cafe with a charming proprietress just 10 minutes up the road: Nature's Corner Bakery and Cafe in Ridgeville at the corner of Canboro Rd and Effingham St.

Another marvel this march: my little man's developments. He's taken to running! We've had the leg braces off to help us with the potty training (still very slow progress) and he ran our usual 1.2km walk home from a coffee shop! Okay.. it was running in spurts as I had to keep him close. But, for the first time, he didn't ask to be picked up and carried home (he also walks the 1.2km to get there).

In another Wee Man moment, after he'd been put to bed he came out of his room mumbling away to himself as he often does. This was the first night after the time zone change and even though the blind was down, he had extra light in his bedroom. I asked him calmly why he was out of bed. He thought about it, got a very matter of fact and serious look on his face and said "because I don't want to go to bed." I couldn't even be upset with him! Answering a why question properly, using the right pronoun and not getting anxious over the conversation! Just awesome. I told him that I heard and understand that he was having fun earlier, but it *is* bedtime now and redirected him back. I went to work, but Bruce said it still took him another 45 minutes to fall asleep.

Finally, this weather - I love this weather! Whats more, this weather is allowing me to embrace my new drive for gardening... I have been out in the garden cleaning it up!!! That's just amazing.

What is Truth?

One of my faults is that I'm almost always "ON". When hanging out with my kid, this means that everything becomes a teaching oppportunity. I'm sure that I'll have him rolling his eyes into his head "not again Mum" by the time he's 7.

For now, he's the (almost) for year old sponge. Learning is interesting, so long as he's not being distracted, hyper or dis-interested.

Torran understands the abstract concepts of real and pretend. He learned it whilst playing his favourite pretend game: cooking and eating (play based learning FTW). So, yesterday when he told me an non-truth in his anxiety underlined autism way, instead of ignoring the anxiety and simply correcting him, I created a learning opportunity for a new abstract concept: truth vs lies.

It kinda blew up in my face, though, when he asked me, "what is a truth?"

I struggled to find simple concrete words to explain lies and truth. I told him telling a lie is saying something that isn't real. For him, that translated to "a lie is a pretend". Not really what I was driving at.

Because for Torran, the corollary is something true is something real. To Torran, that means something he can touch, taste, see and feel.

But truth is not an object. So how do I explain it to him if he undestands that "real" things and "for real" (like eating food for real) are concrete physical items?

I'm not a philosopher by any stretch of the imagination, although I am prone to being too analytical. This quandry, in combination with current personal life events, kept my brain spinning last night.

One person's truth is another person's lie. Truths are what we each perceive them to be. Or what we want them to be. Moreover, there are rules about when we share truths (Yes, I took out the garbage) and when we don't (Man, you've put on a few pounds). Likewise for lies.

I feel this pressing burden as a parent of a child with Autism to guide him through these abstract concepts and rules but I don't know how to do it. Or when to do it (developmentally). If he's ready to understand the abstract concepts of true and lie, is he ready to understand when to use it? Will he be mentally congnizant of the unwritten social rules it when he can? Or will be he the ostracized "rule keeping tattle tale" of his class?

and yet, he's only (almost) 4

Happy Birthday Brucie!

As you can judge by my lack of posts so far this year, I've been a little overwhelmed recently. Sadly, the circumstances are not going to ease up in the immediate future. Perhaps by mid-year.

In the meantime, I pop onto the internet to tell my husband: Happy Birthday!!
I love you so much!

untitled - but apropro

Standing on the brink
Looking
down into
the inky
darkness
Deep breath in
Walk away


(written by me)

Burning at Both Ends? Rather, the Whole Thing in Fire!

I do not like the start of this new year. Let me just put that out there.

As if life wasn't complicated enough to begin with, I have another family crisis issue to attend to that is actually taking me away from time with both my husband and son. We've had to cancel a holiday for stress relief to take on board more unwanted stress. I can't attend certain seminars for Autism therapy/understanding because my attentions and funds are being pulled elsewhere.

And unless I want to empty my bank account and face the wrath of a woman scorned, I have to sort it out with my own two hands.

Someone said to me recently, that God has a plan for us all. That's a great cop out isn't it? Certainly feels that way to me. I've started to read the family story of two children with Autism, Let Me Hear Your Voice by mother Catherine Maurice. Would that woman have chosen to have children with challenges just so she could write a cathartic book and hopefully help others? I seriously doubt it.

I'm in the "sandwich" generation between my mother's acute health issues and my disabled son. I haven't even gotten a handle on his Autism yet. I'm not ready for this.

You Done Good - But You Had to Run Ragged

We have a system in place, like most emergency departments do, to help manage the delay of discharging a patient from the ambulance into our health system. The delay is called "offload delay". There are all sorts of metrics and politics related to offload delay, and it's not pleasant to experience for anyone.

The purpose of our offload system is to get the ambulance crew back out on the road. To some extent, it's to have the patient access the emergency health system faster, but I've done the same "pre-doctor" second triage on a patient in an EMS stretcher as I do with the patients who have walked in and are waiting in the lobby.

In our hospital, if you take an ambulance to the emergency but you can walk or sit in a wheelchair, and don't have otherwise life threatening symptoms, you'll be "offloaded" into the waiting room, if there isn't an assessment space for you. For the patients who can't walk, we have four offload stretchers with a designated nurse. Once those four stretchers are filled, then the crews waiting in hallway(s) with their patients until the next available spot.

The only folks who don't experience offload delay are those who have stopped breating, are having severe respiratory distress or having an ST-elevation heart attack (STEMI). In other words, true emergencies.

Yesterday, I was the designated offload nurse. From the moment I arrived at 1130 in the morning, until 2:30 in the afternoon, I did not stop bustling from patient to patient, triaging ambulances, drawing blood, changing incontinent patients, walking people to the bathroom, assessing patients, carrying out orders, documenting, giving medications and uber-multitasking. In the first hour I offloaded 5 ambulances - two of which had ambulatory patients that I could move to another area of our department. I managed another three ambulance offloads by 6pm.

My charge nurse and manager complimented my "great work"....

And whilst I appreciate the pat on the back, I have to wonder why I nearly had to kill myself in order for the system to work so efficiently (which got me the compliment). And is working like I've literally thrown a dozen china plates in the air at the same time and have to catch all of them before they hit the ground really worth a pat on the back?

Yup. 2012 has Started.

This is my motto for the year. It's a WWII poster released by the British Government which has recently found renewed fame in UK pop culture.

Needless to say, my preoocupation with life has kept me from blogging, for which I apologize to my most fervent readers.

I have holiday snaps to update and life stuff to discuss. But for tonight, I say "hi! I *am* alive..." and then head to my pillow.

G'night.

Well, Now What?

It's been a little hurricane of illness in our household, between my miscarriage and D&C, my cold, T0rran's fever and cough, and then Bruce's cold.

By Wednesday it finally looked like we were heading back to healthville, as all three of us were fever free and back to our designated routine activities in some degree of better functioning.

Today, the wee man is sporting a fever and a small rash to the side of his mouth. Hand-foot-and-mouth disease? Freakish fever of unknown origin?

And with our impending trip home, it makes me kinda nervous!

It will *Never* Feel Right. Nor Should It.

For Keegan and Neil.

Theirs is not my story to tell. Perhaps one day, I will be given permission to share the tales of these little boys, born to different families, who faced death and did not win.

In the meantime, I can convey my sorrow for their families and the people who love them.

My FB post today:

I have heard of two deaths of a child in less than 24hrs. One of someone I know, another through a friend. It is nearly incomprehensible to me that such unfairness exists in the world, when so many people either do not want or do not appreciate the children that they have (or worse!). If you are a parent, tonight, give them an extra hug and kiss and KNOW how special that life is to you and the greater world around them. May these newest angels find peace and happiness on their next journey, and their families find some measure of comfort in knowing that so many people would take away their pain and bear it for them if they could.

Not Quite a Deer in Headlights

I cannot say that I have writer`s block because I do not know what to say.
Nor can I truly say that this is a block.

It is more a of a writer`s stun.

In being conscienscious about what I write, I have to engage in self-censureship.

But this takes away from my true humanity, in my humble opinion.

From thence I pontificate about what is our true humanity... the reflections we post online, or the ones which we do not share with the world for fear of retribution, judgement, employers or pity.

Ironically, the world is no better poised right now to expose the inner self for a deeper understanding of each other, whilst at the same time being made to crop, nay distort, that experience down to two sentences which won`t get you flamed or fired.

Instead, I write nothing but a cryptic hodgepodge.

Enjoy. I`m off to bury my brain in Warcraft.

Unassisted Me Now Requires Assistance

My unassisted miscarriage has not progressed as I'd hoped. I haven't written over the last week, not for pregnancy related illness, but more because I got a cold the same night I found out about the miscarriage, which then translated itself into Torran's daily routine shortly thereafter. Besides still going to work (yes, I worked miscarrying caring for people with far fewer health risks than myself, including pregnancy related worries), I've not had a decent night sleep in well over a week because of Torran's nightly coughing and getting out of bed.

Bruce is now the latest proud host of the household plague.

In true soap operaesque fashion, on the eve of Bruce getting the bit hit from the cold virus, we found out that the natural miscarriage did not work. I have a huge clot in my uterus and some unknown segment of placenta which still thinks that it is trying to support a non-existant embryotic life and ramping up my pbeta-Hcg levels. When I woke this morning with that all too familiar pregnant boob pain I knew even this was the case before the ultrasound confirmed the diagnosis of "incomplete abortion".

It's a term I hate to use at work, especially for those women who did not choose to lose their pregnancy. At least miscarriage is a less brutal way to describe the same problem.

Now, I need to have a D&C, well, technically she's going to do a dilation and suction curettage. I did have the option of taking medication to induce uterine cramping to expel the so-called retained products of conception, but that isn't guarenteed. Given our upcoming court date (for our botched basement renovation, a story I have yet to share online) and Christmas plans, I can't afford to let this go on for two more weeks.

Tomorrow I go to the doctor's designated hospital, register by 8am and wait the entire day for the gynecologist to be free from delivering other women's babies AND for empty room in the OR with accompanying staff.

I'm taking the first two books of the Robin Hobb The Farseers Assassins Trilogy (my mother in law assures me that I have to complete this series before completing the third trilogy that followed the Liveship Traders, the Dragonkeeper Triology). I've already started one and I read fast. It's going to be a LONG DAY.

If I think about it too long, I get nauseated. So I won't write about it too long either. Probably, I'll be out of commission for the rest of the weekend.

A Different Kind of Petrified

When I found out I was pregnant I was pleased but petrified.

Tonight I'm afraid to go to sleep. Having never gone through this kind of miscarriage (although I've had 2 others) my brain keeps instilling me with images of waking in severe cramping and haemorrhage.

Doesn't help that Bruce is on nights and my son doesn't know how to call 911.

Two Blue Lines. No Heartbeat.

Two weeks ago I pee'd on a stick, twice, and was rewarded with two faint blue lines.

Joy! Pregnant!

BUT it was only the start. So much more has to go into play before I could truly relax. In fact, it was another 33weeks worth of "stuff" (although I would have been happy with a 35 week gestation).

That sense of elation was robbed from me today, after I had an ultrasound confirming that at 6 weeks, there was no heartbeat, no yolk sac and more blood than anything else. I`d started bleeding last week, but only light spotting. It was considered to be an implantation bleed, and a 5 week ultrasound was not diagnostic for viability but did demonstrate an intra-uterine pregnancy instead of ectopic. The heavier stuff started Tuesday.

I remained hopeful as I have already had a history of subchorionic bleed in the first trimester with Torran. This time, I started taking antibiotics to treat chronic endometritis (uterine lining inflammation because of infection). I also started a prescription prenatal vitamin which included 4000 micrograms of folic acid compared to the usual 40mcg because of the Factor V Leiden and MTHFR carrier risk I face. To prevent clots in the developing placenta or umbilicus, causing early miscarriage, I also started low dose aspirin.

My original bleed was no bigger than 1cm square, essentially. Tody the doctor told me that the blood has likely lifted any implanting embryo off the uterine wall, regardless of whether or not the embryo itself was growing properly. The aspirin could have contributed to the bleed, yes, but was not the cause of it.

Even though I am being told not to by my staunch supporters, I now hate myself for having taken it for the five days before the bleeding got bad. In fact, it was getting better at first - to the point of being negligible.

I am so angry at the way things have turned out. After taking a break from the assisted reproductive technologies over the summer, Bruce and I decided to wing it on our own. This decision also partly came up because we had to transfer some of our expenses over to Torran`s new nursery school and it would be a very tight budget to pay for both at the same time.

Yeah, so we did it on our own. And that is about the only positive thing I have to say right now.

I am angry and bitter.

I also do not have the brain power for platitudes...
...it will all work out
...at least you have one, some women don`t get any children
...you can still try again
...its all part of the grand design of life
...blah blah blah

I wonder how these phraseologies came into human existance. Instead, be brutally honest: life sucks sometimes. Guess I signed up for more than my share.

So, by my physician`s suggestion, I will have a natural miscarriage. In other words, do nothing and let my body expel everything, monitoring for my continued health of course.

One web site on a Google hit says natural or unassisted miscarriage is a way to experience trust in our bodies at a time when we need it most.
`
What a load of horse shit. (pardon my swearing)

It doesn`t hurt physically yet. Emotionally I am damn near a basket case. I am to expect cramping, heavy bleeding, discomfort and emotional turmoil.

Bruce is taking it in his own way. I feel sorry that I have left Torran with him for the most part of this afternoon, but I just cannot be supermom today. In fact, when I look at the wee man who is the most significant member of my family, it makes me tearful and sad. He deserves a sibling as much as any child does, pehaps moreso. I feel like a failure for not being able to provide that for him.

I know this is not the same kind of loss or hurt as the loss of a child whom you feel in the womb, give birth to and watch grow, for however long they grace your life. Having seen babies die, know the women and men who loved them, I am acutely aware of that kind of loss.

However, that doesn`t stop my overwhelming sadness, grief and bitter anger. It is not the same level as theirs, I know. But it still hurts.

It really really hurts.

Vancouver: Brief, Wet and Beautiful

continuing on with our latest excursion...

We drove from Seattle to Vancouver along Chuckanut drive, a slight detour of the main highway. And yes, the name Chuckanut is exactly as it sounds. It didn't take much longer than being on the thoroughfare, principally because we didn't stop to distract ourselves with any of the sights. Torran had fallen asleep in the car and we didn't want to disturb him. However, we did stop at Fairhaven, the quaint little town just south of the Canada/US border which was supposed to be the thriving metropolis that Seattle turned into.

And, amusingly, held as many punch buggies for our beetle punchbuggy game in the town than in the entire trip between cities! (This was my second best victory day over Bruce, for those of you who know our wee obsession).

We stayed in downtown Vancouver, which is incredibly scenic despite its lack of family oriented food venues (where the *heck* can we go for breakfast other than McD's or Tim's????). However, it's a great central location for accessing the bigger attractions, as well as the Seabus ferry boat that gets you access to North and West Vancouver (so does the bus, of course but using the boat is cooler).

North Van and West Van are not suburbs of Vancouver, we learned. They are described as proudly independent and distinct by the local tour guide - which made me wonder why they keep the name Vancouver? shrug. Both are located on the north side of the Burrard inlet, north of Vancouver city.

Having arrived in the evening, we only had time to search about for a meal and found the lovely Salam Bombay Restaurant (look to the second floor) to suit our needs. Yes, having a man dressed up in costume outside to entice visitors upstairs was a bit cheesy, but the service was excellent (they *really* understood about little people at the table) and the food was yum yum yum!

Our first day started off with a bus tour of the city, originating from the Canada Place area, which is also adjacent to the tourist centre. Canada Place was built in 1986 for the World`s fair as the Canada Pavillion. The iconic design represents Canada`s maritime history and recognises BC as the gateway to the Pacific Ocean. It is now a public and private facility, cruise ship terminal, convention centre and hotel spanning over 4 blocks.

Adjacent to this building is the Vancouver Convention Centre with a living grass roof. Nearby, is the Olympic Cauldron , where the Vancouver 2010 Olympic and Para-Olympic Flame was lit in tradition of the games, after making the longest relay route in one country in history (ours). A very impressive installation which was fenced off during the games and made people very unhappy. It would have been cool to see the fires lit up, however, now that the flame has made its way onwards for the upcoming 2012 summer olympics, we had to settle with electronic lighting.


The waterfront is a great place to watch ship and floatplane traffic along the Burrard inlet. Apparently, also the occassional roaming orca pod. The Vancouver Harbour Water Airport is the 8th busiest aerodrome in BC (32nd in Canada), one of the busiest water aerodromes in the world and one of the largest airfields in the world (technically). I had to use a mop to clean up after Bruce. The air traffic control tower houses two newspapers in its building and at 142m (466ft) is the tallest ATC in the world.

Using the hop-on-hop-off system of the tour bus company, we had an informative ride to gorgeous Stanley Park, a Vancouver eco tourism hot spot. The weather held out and we enjoyed a lovely stroll through the park to the Vancouver Aquarium and the famous totem poles.

Torran meets a Beluga whale

Bruce and I were very impressed with the aquarium design. Torran managed to sit still (mostly) through a teaching session about beluga whales, which are native to Canada. Now, every time he leaves a light on, I tell him that he`s infringing upon their survival. It seems to work better than nagging him about saving electricity. I still like to peek in on the animals with the beluga cam and sea otter cam from time to time (exhibits are larger than what you can see). Watch out for the crows at the outdoor exhibits, though - agressive lil fellas!


My biggest disappointment about this very short holiday was our lack of exploration about the Native peoples along the West Coast. We were only able to spend a short time at the site of the totem poles, which was once the site of a cultural midden from centuries of use by local natives (and is now trampled upon daily by throngs of tourists!). These huge carvings capture the imagination. I fantasized about creating one for Talfryn, my campîng group at Pennsic, then realized that I would then be the epitomy of a cultural tourist, diminishing the deeper meaning behind the symbols.

I suppose I`ll stick to my megaliths.

Using the tour bus, we ended our journey in Gastown in the northeast end of downtown.

I swear this trip was picked just to give Bruce reason to chuckle.

Vancouver was formed as groups of logging towns became bigger and merged together. Gastown was the foremost of these, founded by a man named Gassy Jack Deighton, well known at the time (mid-late 1880s) for being verbose and long winded. He opened a saloon in 1867 and coincidentally the logging town thrived until it was incorportated with adjacent Granville into the newly named city of Vancouver in 1886. Despite a fire two years later, this city centre recovered and retained much of its importance until the Great Depression of the 1930s. In the `60s the area was supposed to be bulldozed to make way for a freeway. However, concerned about its historical value and potential for revamping Gastown`s future, there was a public resistance (supported by local politicians) which eventually won out. Now its a tourist destination with places to spend money! And, probably, a highly desired place to live for downtowners as it retains the feel of cosy architecture lacking in downtown city centres (the city centre, of course, long since moved on).

Day two brought rain. Lots of rain. Not the greatest day to journey across the inlet and up the to the Capilano Suspension Bridge. However, the thrill and majesty of the bridge, the tree walk and the new cliff walk made it worth it. Not to mention the free and dry shuttle bus which also picked up at our hotel! Despite his vertigo, Bruce crossed the bridge, did 100ft high the tree walk amongst 2000 year old rainforest AND picked his way across the cliff walk (although he did avoid the jutting out parts with the glass floors). Torran was oblivious to any danger whatsoever and merrily hopped his way along every path, although he did say that the bridge was wobbly.

Just outside the Suspension Bridge is a public bus to take you further up Grouse Mountain to the so-called Peak of Vancouver (remember what I said before about the three fiercly independent cities with Vancouver in their name). But don't get stuck in the rain - there is no bus shelter!! Guess who got very very wet, despite the plastic tourist cheesey brigdge poncho?

However, the bus takes you to the gondola's doorstep. I swear that the gondola took us to the North Pole instead of the top of Grouse Mtn! The snow was heavy, wet and blanketed everything. Low lying snow clouds completely obliterated any view of the cities below. In fact, we couldn't see beyond a few hundred feet from the chalet windows. Except for the tourist shopping and snack bar at the top, it was a bit of a wasted trip for me. Bruce went outside to frolic in the snow but not for long. The wee man didn't have snow gear on, so he was verboten to play in the white stuff.

Once down the mountain, we hopped back on the bus, terminating at the ferry boat to Vancouver on the south side of the inlet. Shortly thereafter, we got the to hotel, changed into dry warm clothes and adventured for a child friendly dinner in the city. Part of that adventure took us past the Occupy Vancouver site which was getting a little lively with a rock concert in front of the tents and protesters standing in a main intersection in front of the Pacific Centre Mall (which has naught but shopping and a food court, despite its huge size - so that was a no go for dinner).

This protest piques my interest in my human watching hobby. Of the traffic blocking protesters, there were Marxist men in military garb waving a huge red flag with scythe and hammer on it, a young man cornering two pedestrians sharing with them his non-commericalist version of the movement ("We don't have to buy all the things that we see"), aboriginals calling for more native rights, grunge college students milling about and a young man dressed in a bunny costume. I wanted to take pictures of the action, but Bruce refused me, images of riots breaking out and me becoming a target running through his brain. Awww, how sweet.

We ended up at Mooses Down Under, an Australian restaurant. Bruce found it highly amusing that he had to travel all the way to Vancouver to sample Kangaroo meat (I had the Roo burger. Tastes like gamey beef). I am impressed how many retail and food establishments in the downtown decked themselves out for Hallowe'en, including Mooses. I almost felt bad that I was intentionally not decorating my house because we'd only be arriving back on the 30th. Hallowe'en is my favourite theme holiday.

Our last day in Vancouver started off with a struggle to find breakfast. Mooses Down Under is open for breakfast, but not on a Sunday, unbeknownst to us. Ironically, we ended up back at the Tim Hortons at the base of our hotel. At least they have oatmeal now, so Bruce was contented.

We spent much of the day in Granville Market on Granville Island. Where the Pike Place Market charmed us, Granville Market Wowed! us. I now want to move to Vancouver, just to live within walking distance of the market. The vibrancy of the Sunday morning energy carried into the afternoon, with throngs of people perusing the foods, munching on delicacies and watching buskers. Adjacent to the Granville Market is the Kid`s Market with toy shops, face painting, activities and a two storey climbing area. Sadly, we couldnt put Torran in the climbing zone because we would not be allowed to go in after him and I was not sure whether he would have an anxiety reaction to it, or just refuse to come out. He did get Thomas painted on his face, for which he was mostly sitting still.

A lovely stroll along the waterfront brings you to the H.R. MacMillan Space Centre in Vanier Park (also home to the Maritime Museum and the Vancouver Museum, neither of which we were able to visit this trip). Vanier park itself is lovely, with bike and foot trails, public art (yarn bombing!) and lots of room to enjoy the surrounding mountain scenery. The Space Centre was small, in my humble opinion, and I wish I could have enjoyed it more. However, the wee man and I did touch a moon rock! Bruce enjoyed crashing the space shuttle several times on a simulator. Torran found much entertainment in pressing buttons and wiggling joysticks without much purpose, much like any 3 year old boy I suppose. We watched a somewhat lame planetarium movie presentation on Galileo and the origin of the telescope. It is meant for a general audience, and likely not one trying to keep a busy 3 year old boy still and quiet. Not enough stars in the showing to keep him interested.

Vancouver is definately on our Do It Again list, particularly when Torran gets older and is able to better enjoy what the city has to offer (read: we are better able to entertain him with stuff we also like to do). Of course, the rest of B.C. remains for us to discover as well!

photos!

Seattle aka Coffeetown

...or more specifically Starbuckstown. Of course, a local may say that lessens the cultural importance of the city, and now, I'd have to agree with them.

When Bruce and I had to choose where to go on our Aeroplan miles vacation in October, we were a wee bit limited in choices. Partly to do with the season (no hurricanes please), partly because of a certain man's dislike of warm beach holidays, and that we only had a week and a tight budget. When looking at Vancouver, Aeorplan would not let us fly there round trip on their reward miles.

Spend lots of money with us but the rewards have ...Restrictions - sound familiar?

I suggested that we take a look at going to Seattle, driving up the coast into Vancouver and then flying home. Wham, bam! We had a holiday booked.

I'm very glad that we went to this city of which I sadly admit I knew little beyond Sleepless in Seattle, Fraiser and Starbucks. I did touch upon each of these on our trip: we took a duck tour (thanks Cpt. David Buoy) that went past the floating house from the movie (which is listed for $2.5 million dollars, but the listing does not include the number of tour boats and looky-loos that will be on your waterfront doorstep), went up the Space Needle which is a city landmark and part of the tv show's logo and you can't go past a corner without seeing the green and white lady of the coffee shop (and yes, we did stop in there once or twice).

Essentially, we only spent a day in Seattle, but it was enough to whet our appetite for a return visit, particularly when Torran is older and can better appreciate the EMP Museum at the foot of the Space Needle in the so-called Seattle Centre (which is NOT the centre of town). No, medical readers, this isn't an emergency medical physician museum, it's the Experience Music Project and Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame. The EMP was founded by Paul Allen of Microsoft and futher expanded to include the "music" of science fiction - although this, too, has been expanded to include Sci-Fi and related genre exhibitions. It also has the Seattle Monorail running "through" a portion of it, a leftover attraction from the 1962 World's Fair (also the first US full scale commercial monorail). Yep, Jes, it's older than Disney's. How convienient for us that the only two stops it has are in front of our hotel and at the Seattle Centre! (Bruce's idea)

The EMP building is meant to look like a smashed guitar from a bird's eye view, given that the music it caters to is pop and grunge culture (there's entire sections dedicated to Jimi Hendrix and Nirvana). I didn't think that Torran would have a particularly good time there (any place that is generally restrictive for the wandering wee warrior has limited enjoyment capabilities). So I wasn't really keen on going into it despite its funky exterior. But two things drew me into going into the site: Cpt. Buoy saying they have hands on instruments of all kinds that you can play (a bit of a stretch: it was keys, drums, guitar and vocals) and the newly created AVATAR exhibit.

I admit to being "rah rah" patriotic when I have cool things to throw my Canadian weight behind, like the Olympic and Para-Olympic althetes and Glittertown related folks. In this case, James Cameron, creator and director of AVATAR. Now, I'm not going to be a hippocrite, I still stand that the storyline of AVATAR was, honestly, over-done and predictable, but Cameron alluded to the same in interviews. However, the technology he helped pioneer to make the film is pretty awesome to a layperson like myself. And, if I continue to be honest, I found myself sitting tensely in the final battle scenes, cheering for the good guy (even if I knew he was going to win).

One of the neat-o highlights of this Seattle trip for me, therefore, was the chance to use a version of Cameron's technology on myself and "become" the AVATAR. The exhibit has a mock motion capture simulator allowing you to translate yourself into a character from the movie. Mind you, you don't get to wear all the same cool gear the actors wore. However, you do get the chance to email yourself the clip. Mine didn't make it to my inbox, sadly (boo hoo!!) but I've watched other people on you tube and wonder if I really would have wanted to publish it. The experience was far more ... entertaining, perhaps, than the final cut! Although there was one guy who boogeyed his AVATAR and it was hilarious to watch! (If you do scroll through any of the videos, the directions people are given are on the floor beneathe them i.e. walk this way, wave on this side, so that's why their heads are often down and arms are out).

Torran enjoyed generally messing around and touching ...everything. He didn't get the joke behind sign on the Battlestar Gallactica exhibit: Don't Frakkin Touch the Artifacts! We skipped out on the "be a rock band" exhibit because he was likely going to have an anxiety attack around being in the sound studio with lights etc. And we didn't do the Horror Film exhibit as much as we really would have wanted to because we didn't want to potentially traumatize his young mind - particularly because his language and conversational skills would neither allow him to explain any anxiety or problems he may have had as a result nor would we be able to explain fully how the images were only pretend for those people who enjoy scaring themselves, like his crazy parents. Although I have to admit, having him stand beside a full sized statue of some horror creature or Alien model with an absolutely gorgeous grin on his face would have been priceless!

Seattle had such a warm and friendly feel to it. There's public artwork visible just about everywhere, including a the striking 2002 installation Glass Blades at the EMP by local artist John Fleming. Cpt. Buoy said that if public funds are used to build a building %1 of the cost has to go towards public art. Everywhere was decked out for Hallowe'en, people were quite nice and it all seemed very accessible. The Occupy Seattle movement was small compared to others I've seen, their messages equally unique. We didn't get to "do" all the tourist highlights (Bruce is glad we missed the Gum Wall, and for hygiene reasons with Torran's touchy touchy hands, I am too), but we did make it down to the Pike Place Market and watched the fish tossing guys (Pike Place Fish) being filmed by The Travel Channel (I think...).

From the Market, we ambled towards the waterfront and the Seattle Aquarium. It was a wee bit disappointing. However, they had the coolest jellyfish tank I've ever seen. We also watched the sea otters being fed close up (my anti-zoo self cringing at their small enclosure for meal time - four concrete walls, water, a stone shelf and three windows for gawkers like me). I think Torran got a kick out of the otters laying on their back to eat, but he bored quickly. We had to make every bite seem like a fascinating and one of a kind experience!

For dinner, we stopped in steps away at The Crab Pot at Pier 57, Miner's Landing. Finally, Bruce, a restaurant that we've seen on TV (Man vs Food) that was OPEN. (You have to understand, Bruce watches sports, movies and food on tv. Not much else. So when we've gone to featured restaurants locally or abroad only to find them closed, we've been sad. So sad). When we were in Boston at Dick's Last Resort, a sarcasm themed restaurant that tickled both our senses of humour, we thought we'd hit the height of Americanism in food finery. The Crab Pot is an equal top tie! The food is brought in a heaping pile to your table - literally! They put a huge paper on the table, equip you with your crab bashing wooden mallet and platter, then dump the pot of steamed crab right on the table.

RIGHT ON THE TABLE. Did I mention that it's right there, on the table?!

Ok, yes, kinda eww weird. And yes, it confused Torran (with whom we still fight with EVERY meal to use his utensils) immensely. However, as they say in Rome... ah what the hell? Everyone else it doing it! Torran was thrilled that I was banging on the table in regular intervals. He wanted in on the action, and did get some for a while, but I was afraid that Mr. Grubbyhands would let the mallet slip and it would do a swan dive into someone's drink at a neighbouring table. Oh, and don't worry, the mess was easy to clean up - drop the shells in the bucket on the floor that comes free of charge! What a hoot!

(Have I mentioned that I was brought up well heeled and can sit in a formal dining room and eat properly when it is required of me?)

More photos are to be had on my picasa album - enjoy!! (more may appear on the post over the weekend)