Laura

 

The first time I met Laura she had a 40 pound piece of granite in her hand.  She was wearing a kilt and the determined look that comes with a curler concentrating on a hard shot.  That was 6 years ago, and during that time I’ve had the opportunity to watch her grow into the beautiful person she is today.

For the past few winters Laura and my daughter have curled together.  Megan considers her to be somewhat of a surrogate sister, someone to look up to, and I tend to think of her as an adopted daughter.  Our overnight trips with Laura and her family to bonspiels was something that we always looked forward to.  Her confidence and strength, something I admired.  This past year she got a job and decided not to curl, and it just wasn’t the same without her.

I couldn’t pass up the chance to see her all dressed up for her final prom, so I texted her to see if I could take her pictures.  I was tickled pink when the answer was “Ok”.

After this summer I don’t know when our paths may cross again, so Laura, good luck in all your future endeavours. I know you will be successful in whatever you do because you never settle for less than one hundred percent.

 

 

Here’s one last photo I’d like to share.   Laura, in total control of the house….

 

Grade 9 Final Dance (Prom)

 

My daughter’s grade 9 Prom, or Prance, or whatever you may  call it, was last week.  This year I was NOT going to stay at home while she went to her friend’s house to get ready.  So camera in hand, up the street I go, arriving before they did because they were running just a bit behind at the hairdressers. As I was sitting on the steps waiting, I wondered why I wasn’t at the hair studio with them, then remembered Megan had informed me, “It’s only a grade 9 dance, Mom”.

Though some say it’s not a Prom until grade 12, this is the title the kids have given their final dance of the year, and they certainly looked the part. I think they had just as much fun getting ready as they did at the dance.  Oh, and did I mention there was a birthday cake?  Not ashamed to say I swiped some frosting from my daughter’s plate.