Finding Home Beneath The Snow.

Noah, at home, in his new home.

Our new life here in Canada is just that, new--in so many ways more than just the weather. Sure the adjustment from 70 and sunny nearly every single day to downright bone chilling and snowy has not come without its challenges. But if our move to our new northern homestead was just limited to changes in the weather, I suppose it would have been less life altering. But, of course, nothing can be that simple or clear cut for the Surette-Nelson clan.

Dean, Beck & Cassidy.

This move has meant many changes on many fronts. Not only has Dean swapped soireeing with Malibu-side music greats as work (if you want to call it that--see above picture with your doubts) for the nobler and more humble profession of molding the minds of young engineers/mixers/producers-to-be in Canada, but he also has an entirely re-envisioned set of work hours. And by new, I don't mean subtly altered--I mean exchanging a 12-14 hour, 6-day a week workload to a 9:30ish until 5:00ish, 5-day a week light load. This means lots more of Daddy for Noey Finn and I.

With all this fresh and foreign "help time" that I am finding myself with, I have been cooking up a virtual storm. Now, cooking creative and massively complicated decadent meals are no longer saved until the sparse weekend hours. I have been meal planning (see my meal planning post on my other blog, Feeding Little Foodies, to find out what the heck I am talking about) my way into the most tantalizing series of nightly dishes--Lamb Tagine, Yellow Split Pea Soup With Yam & Cumin, Lamb Chops Over Garbanzo and Tomato Salad, Roasted Salmon with Roasted Fennel and Heirloom Tomatoes, etc. etc. In addition, I have a regular weekly pre-natal yoga escapes and even have time to push back my cuticles from time to time.

And, Dean. Ol' dear hubby has been soaking up the extra Noey hours with bread--playing and singing and dancing with the wee lad until dinner, after dinner, into the bathtub and off into bed. And, in between all of that, he's managing to finally catch up with all of the guitar and piano practice that just wasn't able to find its way into our previous time-strapped chaos.

We have several vacations planned, free midwife and home birth care, a two-story home--not an apartment or guesthouse--a huge yard, a room for Noey Finn and baby numero dos, plans to get a pup . . . and time--time to read, time to talk, time to play, time to watch movies, time to paint, time to be inspired, time to learn, time to tinker, time to think, time to just be, together, as a family.

A lazy day last summer on Leo Carrillo Beach, Malibu.

"Giddy'up Mama" I think he must be saying.
"Let's get thee to Canada and leave this all this beachy business behind."

So, in summary, can I say that we--I--miss California--Malibu--dearly . . . oh, ever so dearly? Yes, yes we can with utmost certainty. But can we also admit that all of the anticipated reasons for moving are coming to fruition slowly but surely as we dig our brains from beneath the permafrost? Yes, yes we can. Perhaps not yet with utmost certainty, but with certainty nevertheless.

Paul Bunyan and his snow shovel.