Dear Diary-This week I watched a short (& hilarious) YouTube video on hummingbirds. The most ridiculous thing was their mating ritual. Males will fly high over the female and perform a series of courtship dives. But as they swoop over the female, special feathers on their tail flutter, creating a unique sound that sounds like…a fart! Romantic “butt” farts? Apparently! But before any guys reading this cheer in celebration, let me be clear on behalf of your mates. It’s only romantic to hummingbirds. We may turn it into a joke or laugh (because when it comes to bathroom jokes and body noises, we are all still 11 inside), but in no way does it make it “randy baby”.
Dear Diary – I was looking forward to it, but once again, my angry ankle made me doubt my ability to withstand the walking tour…in 30C heat. So Eldest Son and my father went to see the WWII former bombing and gunnery school without out me. This base trained approximately 131,553 aircrew, including pilots, wireless operators, air gunners, and navigators for the Air Forces of Great Britain, Australia, New Zealand and Canada. It was decommissioned in 1969 and essentially abandoned for years. But it’s in the process of being restored, it’s stories being shared, and I think it’s a piece of history worth saving. Dad works part-time at a flying club, whose hangar and buildings was also used to train during the wars. It’s so cool to wander inside where evidence still exists of an era gone by, and see photos of this once bustling destination.
I told them they had to take photos…I really liked these ones of the barracks.


While the boys were out (and Youngest was still sleeping, his favourite activity these days), Mom and I went shopping. We bought important things, like butter tarts and a bathing suit for Eldest Son.
Though the label said the suit was large, it was a youth’s large. He couldn’t get it past his knees.
After the butter tarts, we all needed a large.
Dear Diary – A Pluviophile is a lover of rain, one who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days. And there are days when I certainly enjoy being “stuck inside” or sitting on my back porch listening to it.
Not so much when you’re on vacation, and Eldest Son was with us for only a few days. Eldest Son, Youngest Son and I descended on my folks last week. We brought food, games, and our childlike wonder (or childish antics – read that how you will). As a Mama, I’m happiest when I have my kids with me.

We’ve played Ticket to Ride, Slay, and Carcassone, and we’re all still talking to each other.
There have been a few trips to dollerama. We read our books, snoozed, snacked, and started the new series, House of Dragons. One night we sat by the fire table until the mosquitoes found us.
Youngest mostly slept. I think he’s trying to ignore the start of school, which he will have to attend in person if he is to get the credits he needs to apply for university next Spring.
One afternoon, it had rained so hard that the planter box I gave Mom for her birthday was overflowing! It was wet outside! It was wet inside too. Eldest Son brought his camp stove in to clean it at the kitchen sink. He didn’t realize that after several hours, it wasn’t fully drained and poured water all over on floor. Mom just laughed…she had cleaned the floor the day before. Eldest Son used the mop to dry feet, so he could rescue his burning eggs.
He’s inherited my “bad luck”.
The boys entertained us as we listened to them making dinner: spaghetti!
Eldest Son started making waffles too…somehow I ended up cooking them…
We also celebrated Mom’s belated birthday (with Auntie M before she went on her own big holiday) with my homemade lemon chiffon cake:

Even the hummingbird got sick of the rain. We sneaked out between thundering rain (and sometimes thunder) for a swim one afternoon, much to the distress of a female cardinal. We thought she was searching for her missing teen. Eldest Son discovered later that she actually had a nest in the wild rose bush right beside the pool, and we were disturbing her.

She had no idea just how disturbed she’d be the next day.
It was sunny on our final full day together and we had big plans…or rather, the guys had big plans…to topple a tree. My job was simply to record it. And maybe pick up sticks.

This rotten pine tree has been a favourite of the neighbourhood flocks, particularly the woodpecker! The trunk was studded with more holes than brown pine needles, and it desperately needed to come down before it came down on it’s own volition. Eldest Son had to remove every branch with his handsaw before tying a rope to the top. Once expertly notched at the base, Dad gently pulled the tree. It slowly leaned, crackling and snapping, and pausing halfway down for dramatic effect, before the final anti-climatic thud.
Traditionally, we have celebrated the end of summer with a DQ Blizzard, so we surprised my parents with them in the afternoon.
Before dinner, the boys and I tackled Eldest Son’s car. Youngest Son couldn’t help commenting on the amount of hair (and fries) in the car. I reminded him that when you look like Chewbacca, there’s bound to be a lot of hair. While he stood on his head to retrieve food wrappers and coffee cups under the seats, I emptied and washed the console. Did you know that coffee + heat+ sawdust creates a thin”coffee” gelee disk? Yummy! I washed the gummy change too.
By evening, we were hot and tired. Eldest Son and I hopped in the pool and washed the sky fade from pink to mauve. All the birds ceased their evening chatter, except Mama cardinal who was highly offended by our presence, and simply enjoyed this moment of peace.
But the party is over! While Youngest Son and I will stay on, Eldest Son is packed and heading home. He has 5 loads of clean laundry, a clean cook stove, a clean car, and a clean body (we cleaned the pool cover this morning. It no longer smells!). We’ll miss him, of course, but will focus instead on being thankful that we have one another.

Here’s to the twilight, here’s to the memories
Switchfoot, Souvenirs
These are my souvenirs, my mental pictures of everything
Here’s to the late nights, here’s to the firelight
These are my souvenirs