Monday, October 18, 2010

Welcome Baby G

Dear Baby G,

Welcome to our world! It ain't the most glorious, and I wish Second Ave wasn't under construction, but all in all it's not too bad a place to be.

You should know, you surprised us all with your early arrival. Just this past Friday, when we met Mommy and Daddy for dinner, all was still well and normal. Your starting line was still 3 weeks away, and Mommy was still walking around with a bit of a waddle, fondly stroking you in her round little belly as we meandered down the street for icecream after dinner.

And then, all of a sudden, the the characteristic way that babies have of deciding their birthdays for themselves, there you were, when we all least expected it!

Mommy and Daddy are of course, over the moon. And Delta and I are besides ourselves with excitement too. We're going to be your cool aunt and uncle around the corner, it's going to all be a boatload of fun. We've already found the little place we want to take you for painting pottery once you've had a couple years under your belt. And all sorts of other fun stuff, just you see, little fella.

Well, go catch a nap, li'l kiddo, and we'll see you this evening. We can hardly wait!

Love and hugs,
Ficali and Delta


Sunday, October 17, 2010

Exhausted, but jubilant

Delta and I had planned on going camping up in the Catskills in early October to catch the initial glimpses of autumn colours. We'd been hoping to persuade some of our friends to come with us, so were particularly enthused when Davis, Simone and the Vish decided to join the bandwagon as well.

I'd never gone camping in the fall chill before, so wasn't quite sure what to expect. But it was simply perfect. The trees were positively jostling eachother for their turns to display their resplendent, fiery foliage. The weather blessed us with bright sunshine, and the lingering chill in the air only made us appreciate the blazing fire that much more.

I'd had my heart set on climbing a steep trail we'd never undertaken before, and luckily everyone else seemed pretty happy to comply. But none of us, me included, expected quite the task we had undertaken. Up, and up, and up we went, until several hours into the hike, we finally burst through to the top, and sat at the cliff edge, munching our sandwiches and gazing down in awe at the vast expanse of the autumnal Hudson valley before us.

And then, as Newton pointed out of all things that go up, it was time to go down. Painstakingly, knee-crunchingly, anke-twistingly, unalteringly, down. I must confess, my knees would have been rather more impressed with me if I'd had the ol' preemptive alleve. But all the same, we all made it to the bottom in the end, just in time for the setting sun. Just in time for a quick shower, getting the fire alight, and a glass of wine.

Exhausted, but jubilant. No better feeling in the world.


Tuesday, October 05, 2010

Help, please

Dear Gawd,

This year, you've presented me with an impossible conundrum.

The truth is, even if I hate to say it myself, you gave me the looks of a cherub. I have Ficali and Delta wrapped around my finger, just like you taught me. Every time I'm a bit bored, all I have to do is lie on my back and profer my belly, and both Ficali and Delta rush over to pet me. When I want to be picked up cuddled, I just rub myself against their legs, and they can't help but oblige. It's not their fault, that's just how cute I am.

But did you have to also make Ficali allergic to cats? Does she have to sneeze everytime she picks me up? It really is rather disconcerting. Yesterday evening, she spent a cumulative 4 hours just racked by a series of sneezes and nose-blowing antics. Really, quite the buzzkill when all I want is a quick cuddle and a snooze. This whole allergy business is quite cramping my style.

So, Gawd, I'm asking you to help. Can you please get rid of Ficali's allergies, they are intruding upon my life of pettings and hugs, a life I believe I'm entitled to.

Thank you, and sincerely awaiting your response.
Anxiously,
Queen Jaffa

Monday, October 04, 2010

Pedalling for a cause

Oh, crikey. Delta and I left our home at 6.30 am this Sunday for the MS Bike Ride, and it hit us like a crashing mass of icycles that all of a sudden, winter has arrived.

Without fair warning or the necessary preamble we fondly term autumn, Winter just decided to pay us a visit of it's own volition. Delta and I, shivering uncontrollably as we waited for the ride to start, found ourselves woefully unprepared for this icy onslaught.

Rather unfair, need I mention?

In any case, once the ride started, I pedalled with unrivaled furiosity just to warm up the ol' corpus sanctum. Inevitably of course, all the crazy pedalling came to naught because of a mischievously gusty head wind that kept the entire crowd treading in place for large parts of the ride. Rather comic, when you think about it. Less so when you're actually the poor sod freezing your butt off.

But all the same, as in every year, we did make it to the end in good time after all, and our first thought on making it was, "oh, that wasn't that bad after all!". So to those of you who supported us by donating towards fighting multiple sclerosis - thank you. We're proud to do this every year, and couldn't do it without you.

Saturday, October 02, 2010

Autumn summons our biking limits

Every year, Delta and I participate in an arduous, hilly, soul-bludgeoning, day-long bike ride in the Jersey Higlands. I have no explanation for why we do this, other than our own gluttony for punishment. For I cant, in good conscience, call four hours of uphill biking "enjoyable".

And yet, it's one of our most looked-forward to events all year. This year, just like previous years, I almost started crying right at Mile 50. I was gazing up at (yet) another long uphill looming in front of me, and my legs started screaming out, help, get us away from this crazy woman! But we lumbered on, Delta, my mutinous legs, and me. Up, and up, and up. Crying and swearing under my breath the entire way.

But eventually, just like every year, we made it. Suddenly, just as we reached the end of our tether, we turned the corner, and there we were, right at the finish line. Instantly, we were filled with an incomparable euphoria, mingled with relief, and a sort of pride at what we'd achieved. It wasn't quite solving cancer or world peace, but we'd pushed ourselves to our limits, and there's always something to be said for that.

The bike ride was, of course, inevitably followed by a lot of sitting around on the couch with our feet up on the coffee table. An exercise not to be scoffed at in its own right. But not for long: for tomorrow, we embark again on another bike ride, this time fifty miles around NYC. This time, to raise money for Multiple Sclerosis (it's not too late to donate).

Again, I have no doubt it'll be a day of panting and puffing and swearing and gruffing. But I wouldn't have it any other way. For autumn is our time for pushing our biking limits.