Busy, busy, busy . . . Sandwiched between the Generations

This has been such a busy week. I felt better enough on Wednesday that I went for a run along the Seawall, sticking to forty-five minutes, but feeling good enough that I could have done more. But that was followed by a trip to the Museum of Anthropology at UBC, always a treat for its architecture and stunning display of First Nations artifacts, to see the exhibit Signed Without Signature, the collected works of Charles and Isabella Edenshaw — intricately carved silver bracelets, richly woven and decorated baskets and hats. (and by the way, a membership here is such a great deal — memberships at your local museums and art galleries often are, and they’re an important way for such cultural institutions to gather some clout for grant-getting and fund-raising)

Grabbed a lunch at the bustling but convivial Rangoli, Vij’s little sister shop — yummy curries at great prices, what’s not to love?

Then I squeezed in a massage at my daughter’s school/spa, after which we rushed over to pick Nola up from daycare and hang out with her ’til her Dad got home. Pater whipped up dinner for all. That should make it a day, right?

Nope. Still had our French lesson, so we rolled home after 9:30, brains overflowing with idiomatic expressions, irregular conjugations, and new vocabulary.

Then on Thursday, we kept Nola out of Daycare so we could spend the day with her. First item was to get her some time with her Granny — the little girl is lucky enough to have great-grandparents, but she doesn’t get to see them often. So some driving was in order (my car-seat, she says, in Grand-dad’s car), but then we got to witness this

and this

and then Granny taught Nola that old playground rhyme: Teeter-totter, Bread and Water, Johnny shall have a new master . . . Anyone still remember that one?

Mom looked around sheepishly from time to time, but she had fun at the playground, especially enjoying a turn on the swings. And why not, really?

At any rate, whether from Wednesday’s run, or the week’s overall business, or the cold temperatures (minus 10 to 15 Celsius, adding in the windchill), I was regressing health-wise, and had almost as long an afternoon nap as Nola did. And when Pater took her for the much anticipated walk on the beach (our apartment in Vancouver is about five minutes away from “the ocean”, as Nola exults), I stayed home and enjoyed the quiet. A quiet shattered happily, I might add, when they returned and we all danced to some tunes cranked out on the iPod’s dock. This Nana was instructed in how to accompany Lady Gaga with donkey-kicks! More fun than exercise class and just as much cardio!

But that hour of peace and quiet earlier had struck a chord. So much so, in fact, that when Pater went back to the island this morning to do a few necessary errands, I decided not to accompany him as planned, but to stay put by myself in the apartment for the weekend and recuperate. Of course, some of my recuperation might involve some retail research, but for now it’s sushi and sleep and a book or two . . .

Next post, the big reveal, I promise, after all my hinting . . . Not being coy, just running out of space and energy. what about you? Did you get through your week gracefully or are you exhausted as well? and how do you plan to put yourself back together over the weekend?