We're home, safe and sound, full of gratitude for family and friends, particularly the ones that put up with us in their home. Thank you!
As most of you know, we're fond observers of human foibles and always keen to learn a few life lessons from these observations. This visit “back home” did not disappoint.
Our first stop was unexpected, in that our flight out of Chicago was cancelled, but it was actually rather refreshing to pause in our journey and spend a night in a hotel before continuing onward (with fingers crossed regarding the first stand-by flight). It has actually made us consider taking a deliberate breather in future journeys, as flight travel has become so tediously painful nowadays. I'll let Phillip rant about that in another post, I think.
Ottawa was satisfactorily blustery, with snow scattered attractively about, yet not too cold. So it was that a couple of thin-blooded types like us could enjoy a long walk through the market and downtown and feel like we'd braved the elements. We DID stop for a latte along the way, but that's only civilized, no?
As for indoors - it was loud. But we'd prepared ourselves for that and enjoyed the company of all the little ones who ran amok and generally made Christmas what it was supposed to be; raucous, cheerful and gratifying. Phillip in particular came away with a valuable nugget gleaned from “Zen Panda” - one of the bedtime stories he read - that perfectly suited the sometimes-stressful moments that can arise during the holiday.
To summarize, a young monk and his older teacher are stopped along their path by an imperious old lady who demands to be carried across a muddy puddle. The wise teacher complies and continues along his way while the younger monk fumes with indignation at being treated so disrespectfully. Finally, the old monk turns to his apprentice and says “I set the woman down hours ago. Why are you still carrying her?”
I love the simple, yet powerful message in this delightful story and have promised myself to hold it close in the future.
Weather held out beautifully as we left Ottawa for the Eastern Townships, turning much more wintery after we'd passed through Montreal. It is amazing how we seemed to hit a wall of swirling snow, which can be hypnotic. The roads were greasy at times, but we hit no serious difficulty, making it to my sister's house in good time. There was more loud little people and louder big people with hugs and cheer. We ate like kings, thanks to Nikki and Mario's generous cooking, but slept in the Sahara.
Bet ya didn't know there was a desert in Quebec, huh? Yup, it's at my dad's house. His thermostat consistently reads about 29*C (84*F) and we could have walked around in our skivvies if we'd been so inclined. Poor Phillip was already suffering a sore throat, which was exacerbated by the dry heat at night. He had difficulty sleeping, so his final recourse was to tent a shirt over his face to reclaim a bit of humidity from his exhalations. I guess it helped because there was no desiccated skeleton left behind. We drank a lot of water and frequently had the urge to don pith helmets. The camels were lovely.
Onward to Chaffey's to visit another family group, and benefiting from our recent experience, we paused along the way to eat lunch at the beloved Manx pub. The roasted potato-garlic soup was divine. If you haven't enjoyed the Manx yet, do it! It is the pub by which we judge all others. At Dad and Donna's we felt outnumbered by kids, but it was fun to watch them (from afar) as they marched around the house on various adventures. I drank a good deal of Guinness during this portion of the visit.
One thing Phillip and I were curious to note is that Strawberry Shortcake dolls have made a comeback. In my day, she was kind of like Raggedy Ann, in that she wore peasant dresses and had yarn-like hair. She and her berry good friends were moderately cooler than the rag dolls in that they each had a yummy fruit scent.
Recently, she's been updated to be a little hipper; she wears a miniskirt with her traditional striped stockings, her hair is long and wavy and her bonnet-like hat has been modernized to be a newsboy-style cap. Very chic. She must have managed some corporate takeover in order to gain an edge in the increasingly cut-throat world of toys. Nieces and nephews would be wise to keep an eye on the seemingly innocent character.
Speaking of berries, Phillip smelled like raspberries after using some body-wash that someone had kindly provided for our shower. I commented on his fruity scent (wondering if Ms. Shortcake was in on it) and he replied that it was Avon. I scoffed that Avon was evil and Phillip responded that if such was the case, the shower-gel was likely distilled from the souls of raspberry orphans and he would go to hell for using it. I love his wacky brain.
Most of you are likely anticipating Phillip's next post, so I will leave off here and let him share his wacky inner workings next time. Until then, thanks again for the welcome and hospitality and may 2011 bring you all much good health and joy.
