<friday may 16, 2003 - 12:16 p.m.>

Nana and Papa gave Emma her birthday presents last night. The biggie: a bike. It is a little girl's dream bike. It has a sparkly purple frame, shiny streamers on the handlebars, pink and white training wells... it's a Road Star bike, I think. You can't get a girlier bike than that.

Sarah has now inherited the tricycle.

It was assembled by Mark and Gary – with the rest of the family supervising and getting in the way, losing the wrench bits, sticking fingers into turning wheels etc. We took it for a spin, but it was already getting dark so we just went up and down the sidewalk. She was pretty good on it. In fact, it was hard to convince her that she couldn't ride it this morning.

Tomorrow, a kiddie birthday party. A b-day tea party to which all of her little friends have been invited. On the menu (as per request):

• gummi worms
• chips
• hummus & pita
• carrot sticks
• fruit salad
• fancy cut-outs of PB & J on white
• "tea" aka milky chocolate milk

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Confession - when we listen to the Wiggles CD in the car, I like to crank "Tie Me Kangaroo Down Sport." I often find myself whistling it during the day. I like it.

Confession - I thought I knew how to use aerosol hair spray. But clearly I don't. I bought a new can and have been using it every morning. I guess it was clogged, because suddenly a loud hissing torrent was unleased upon my head.

My hair looks amazing when it's freshly coiffed. Why does it look like limp lettuce by the end of the day?

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Two other things from this morning:

1. Seen written in dust on the back of a truck - "This is not as dirty as yo mama"
2. Photo essay idea - "People Who Get Coffee at Tim Hortons". Or more specifically, "Oddballs Who Get Coffee at Tim Hortons".

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Have a good long weekend everyone! I am looking forward to doing some sunny gardening.

Cheers,

andrea

<wednesday may 14, 2003 - 11:06 p.m.>

It's Emma's birthday tomorrow. She'll be all of four years old.

Nana and Papa are coming to visit. This is on the dinner menu tomorrow night. (Click to flip the index card when you get there. So cute - written by Mary to Mark when he first moved out of the house. Awwwwww!)

:^)

<12:20 p.m.>

I was outside, walking to a destination that I can't remember now, but that is of little consequence.

Somewhere along the sidewalk I spotted a twisted drinking straw, bright polyurethane yellow, the kind that comes with the purchase of a milkshake or sweetened carbonated water from McDonalds.

The straw was twisted just so, in a shape recognizable from my youth.

When I was in grade eight a group of us often took off to McDonald's during our lunch hour. The tradition spilled over into our high school years, and we often gathered there after our late-night escapades.

We'd bring our orders to the back of the restaurant, filling up a long row of seats, taking over a large piece of it as our own.

McDonald's has the kind of seats that are created to provide temporary respite for weary legs of all shapes and sizes, but are not intended for long-term comfort. They are made so you will sit, eat and leave - this instead of loitering or long term grazing.

Regardless of this, we often managed to spend a long time there. We were loud, but never quite rowdy enough to be removed by management.

Somewhere along the line someone showed me the trick with the straw.

Take one drinking straw and hold it horizontally in front of you. Squeeze each end of the straw shut. While holding the straw, twist it around, making a motion with your hands as if you are swimming the dog paddle. The ends of the straw will overlap themselves.

Twist until you can go no further. The end result should be an inch or two of straight straw. Keep holding the ends tightly. Hold the straw out to your best friend. She will curl her finger into the OK sign and flick the straight part of the straw with her finger, hard. If she gets it right, the force will break the straw and release the build-up air to make a loud popping sound.

Because the target area is so small, the holder of the straws risk getting her own fingers flicked. This could be painful. If the flicker doesn't flick it at the right angle it won't pop. If the holder doesn't hold it right it won't pop either.

There are many places where the process can go wrong, and all the winding effort as well as the buildup of anticipation will have been for naught. But that's ok, there are more straws where that came from. A trip to the front of the restaurant can replenish your supply. Just don't let anyone see you sneaking away with a handful of straws. I wonder how many of these twisted straws litter parks and take up space in landfills.

This is the kind of game that is passed down from one generation of kid to the next. This is kind of knowledge that an older brother passes on to a younger sibling, usually in the confines of the family car at a time when parents are least expecting loud noises to come from the back seat.

See, you take one drinking straw, holding it horizontally in front of you. Squeeze each end shut...

It is funny how something like this becomes part of an urban childhood, something everyone did and has memories of, like playing hide n'seek or dodge-ball or burning ants with magnifying glasses.