Here's a weird thing: I have become a morning person. When I was a little girl I was always the first one up, but that was because I had a ridiculously early bedtime. As a young adult I became an owl. I stayed an owl for thirty years. I don't know what has changed in me or why, but I am now back to being the first one out of bed in the morning. I like it.

Gil's bowl is decorated with  red and green glass stones for Christmas which Indiana Jones thinks is pretty cool. He is endlessly fascinated by Gil and watches him for hours. Sometimes he drinks the water out of Gil's bowl. Sometimes he skims fish food off the top with his tongue. Sometimes he curls up next to it and takes a nap. 

This afternoon my daughters and I went to the mall to do some Christmas shopping. Our mall is bright and shiny and very fancy.  It is the mall in which the motion picture "Paul Blart Mall Cop" was filmed. I like that movie. I don't like shopping malls. However, it is fun to go at Christmastime and see all of the luxurious gifts and sparkling decorations and posh shops.

I know a lot of women love being middle-aged. I do not. When I was a young woman I was full of hope, I believed in the goodness of people; I had dreams. Middle-age has made me tired, achey and cynical. It rather sucks. 

Luke has a friend whose grandfather is Indian. Every day when the two boys play outside, the grandfather is there leaning against one of the big rocks or a fence watching over his grandson. On a recent cold day, Luke and his friend wanted to come inside our house to play. I called out to the boy's grandfather to come inside, too. He was reluctant, but I was insistent. I sat him on our big, comfy sofa and made him tea. He told me that he has two children, a son and a daughter. Every year he spends three months with his son's family in Toronto and three months with his daughter's family here. "In the winter I go to India. It is too cold here." Yes, it is that. His daughter is an accountant, his son an engineer, "not a computer engineer; a real engineer." I noted that the distinction was important to him. "But I have never done anything in my life," he said. "Nothing at all." This man with the gentle brown eyes and generous smile, who faithfully shadows his grandson outside in all kinds of weather every single day, who has brought his children to North America and seen them settled in middle class occupations and spends half of each year visiting and helping them, he said that to me.  

Now I have a scary thing to tell you. Monday night Presley (the boxer) whined all night long. I couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. I had to get out of bed twice in the middle of the night to bring him downstairs to see if he needed to go out. He didn't. The second time, he barked at the couch. It was very annoying. Well, yesterday morning when I came downstairs, I saw that my son had accidentally forgotten to secure his pet snake's enclosure. The snake had escaped during the night. I spent the first hour of my morning searching for it but didn't find it. When the boys got up, they located the snake on the other side of the house wrapped up in the heat register behind the couch. I prefer cats, but dogs are pretty cool, too.