A Backwards Glance - A Forward Gaze

A happy New Year! Grant that I
May bring no tear to any eye
When this New Year in time shall end
Let it be said I've played the friend,
Have lived and loved and labored here,
And made of it a happy year.
~Edgar Guest

It is December 29, time for reconciling last year's book and making next year's plan. I will not remember 2011 as a particularly remarkable year. It had some good days and some bad. In January, I traveled to Chicago with my sisters and Geraldine, and checked a visit to see Oprah, off my bucket list. In March, Merv and I spent a glorious week in Mexico. In May we buried our dear friend Percy. In June we went to the UK for sixteen days giving us a chance to connect with old friends and family. For the first months of the year, my business was on life-support while my unpaid board work consumed my time and life. My tenure on one board ended while the tensions on my other board increased. In the late spring my business took off once again - the long drought ended by a deluge of work for which I was extremely grateful. There has been a great deal of sadness in the lives of people around me. There have been too many funerals, too much grief, too much fear. My mom broke her hip and lived to see another year. She will be ninety next week. I had another cancer scare of my own and breathed a great sigh of relief when it turned out to be just a scare. And I took on a new study project that I'm not quite ready to talk about publicly just yet. The year was full. And I am grateful for every day.

But now the time has come to look ahead. Of course there is no way to know what the year will bring. I imagine there will be some good days and some bad days. I won't be making my usual resolutions again this year. I'd love to lose some weight. I'd love to get organized. But I won't resolve to do those things. I will try to do them. Again. I will or I won't succeed. But I won't start my year by setting myself up for failure. What I will resolve to do is to try and look at the world in a slightly different way this year. I'm going to strive to be open to all the world has to offer and to all the possibilities for the enrichment of my life. I'm going to try and pay attention to what the universe is telling me. 2012 - I'm jumping in with both feet.

Hair

Gimme a head with hair
Long beautiful hair
Shining, gleaming,
Streaming, flaxen, waxen

Give me down to there hair
Shoulder length or longer
Here baby, there mama
Everywhere daddy daddy

Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair
Flow it, show it
Long as God can grow it
My hair

- Lyrics from the song Hair

Merv outdid himself with tonight's holiday treat for the family. In addition to buying tickets for us all to see Hair at the Royal Alex theatre, he ordered a white stretch limousine to take us to dinner and then the theatre and then to return us home. It was quite an evening.

Hair is set in New York in 1967. It was an age of rebellion and unrest. The days of sit-ins and marches on Washington. The days of drugs, free love and rock and roll. The days of the Vietnam war, the draft in the U.S. and the haven Canada provided to draft dodgers. We had the soundtrack album to Hair and Cath and I played it endlessly until the vinyl was nearly worn out. We knew all the words to all the songs. Surprisingly, these 44 years later, I still did. But I was only twelve years old in 1967 and I didn't know what the story of Hair was about. I knew it was about the sexual revolution, hippies and drugs and I assumed it was about war protests and rebellion. I did know that in its day, it was very risque both for the language used and the on-stage nudity. I didn't know it would end with such sadness or touch so many nerves. Forty-four years later, it is still poignant, still relevant, still in so many regards true to our times. The music is still fun and still fresh. I really enjoyed it. Merv is going to have an awful time topping himself next year.

Bittersweet

"Christmas Eve was a night of song that wrapped itself about you like a shawl. But it warmed more than your body. It warmed your heart... filled it, too, with melody that would last forever." - Bess Streeter Aldrich

I have finished arranging the centerpiece flowers and am about to embark on making the trifle before I set the table. It is Christmas Eve, my favorite day of the year. The sun is shining in the ice blue sky. Christmas music is playing on the stereo and the guests will arrive in a few hours. I love this day.

The only melancholy part of today is that Geraldine's sister is expected to pass within the next few hours. It has been a long, hard struggle but she is at the very end now. The death of a loved one is always hard but to lose a wife, mother, daughter, sister on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, somehow seems to magnify the sorrow of the loss. My friend David, who practices Kaballah, reminded me yesterday that it is both Hanukkah and Christmas this week - a time of miracles. So I'm praying for healing for all who grieve in this holiday season and peace in the hearts of us all.

Merry Christmas.

Homecoming

"A first-rate soup is more creative than a second-rate painting."
- Abraham Maslow

The pea soup is simmering in the stockpot on top of the stove and his sheets are tumbling in the dryer. In just a few hours, Jacob will be home for the Christmas holidays. I'm excited.

As I hadn't seen him for four weeks, the longest time we've been apart in his life, I decided I couldn't wait until today and so I went to Guelph to take him out for lunch last Tuesday. We spent a few lovely hours over a leisurely lunch and then did a bit of Christmas shopping before we went back to Jacob's place where he resolved some troublesome computer problems I had been having. Parting that day was a little better than usual because I knew today he would be home. Before I left I asked him what he wanted me to have ready when he got here. He told me whatever I made would be fine but his roommate Abby told me to make pea soup. She said that Jacob often speaks about my pea soup and how much he loves it. So, pea soup it is.

The trees are up and the banister is decorated. Merv did the downstairs tree and I did the upstairs tree - almost. I didn't put the star on the top. I decided to wait for Jacob. He'll have the honor of placing the star this year and that seems right. My baby is coming home. Now it's Christmas.

Creating a Christmas

Christmas is forever, not for just one day,
for loving, sharing, giving, are not to put away
like bells and lights and tinsel, in some box upon a shelf.
The good you do for others is good you do yourself...
~Norman Wesley Brooks, "Let Every Day Be Christmas," 1976

For the past few years, my sisters and I have been adopting a family for Christmas through the Redwoods Shelter. Redwoods provides a safe place for women and children escaping domestic violence. Some of the Redwoods families live in the house for a period of time before being supported through the transition to their own safe housing. And each December, we receive the Christmas lists for one of those families. Shopping for the family is one of my favorite parts of Christmas. This year we have a mom and two young boys, ages 5 years and 9 years. Normally, the lists we get are very modest from both the mom and children, but this family is dreaming big and I'm so pleased about that. We got two lists for each family member - a "needs" list and a "wish" list. Of course we have no obligation to provide everything on either list but we certainly aim to fill the items on the "needs" lists and many of the items on the "wish" list and then add some unexpected surprises. In addition to these items, we shop all year long and grab the opportunities to buy things at good prices that would serve the other shelter families like toys and books, children's clothing and toiletries and luxury items for the moms.

In filling the lists this year, we have put together snowsuits for the boys and a gift card for the mom to select her own coat, hats and gloves, pajamas, a bathrobe and slippers, a luxury bath set, books, Hot Wheels, Lego, a magic set complete with two custom sewn magic capes (Nancy did that), a hockey stick and Maple Leaf's memorabilia, a soccer ball, clothes for the boys, jewelry for the mom (my own creations), sheets for all the beds, a toaster, cocoa pot and cups, a slow cooker, a DVD player and DVDs and some extra toys, puzzles and games for good measure. Apart from those things, we have five huge bags of "extras" for other families at Redwoods. My biggest problem is that I can't figure out how I'm going to get everything in my car to deliver it tomorrow evening.

When I go to bed on Christmas Eve, I will be thinking about our shelter family. I know for certain they've had a tough time. I hope when they wake up on Christmas morning, they will know that it's okay to dream big, good things can happen and there is still magic in the world. And I will send them my love, prayers and thanks for helping me rekindle the magic in my world.

That's a Wrap

Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end; then stop. ~ Lewis Carroll

My term as Chair of West Toronto Community Legal Services came to an end at the Annual General Meeting held tonight. It has been a long and challenging two and a half years. I joined the WTCLS Board as Vice-Chair in June 2009. The previous Clinic Board had resigned en masse leaving my friend Judy, the Executive Director, in a tight spot. She called me late one afternoon to tell me what had happened. She had less than twenty-four hours before she was required to appear at Legal Aid Ontario to present a plan for a new Board or risk defunding of the Clinic. She needed four people to create a Board with quorum. Though it seemed like an impossible task, by ten o'clock the next morning, I accompanied Judy to LAO. Between the two of us, we had managed to put together a Board.

Over the course of the next months, the new Board spent hundreds of hours working to get the Clinic on a solid footing. We recruited additional Board members, implemented new policies and cleaned up old problems. Changes to our Board last June resulted in my shift from Vice-Chair to Chair of the Board. I long ago lost track of the inordinate amount of time I spent on Clinic business.

The end of my term tonight came, admittedly, with mixed emotions. I'm extremely proud of the work we did. I'm honored to have had the opportunity to support housing help and poverty law provision for members of the West Toronto community. I'm happy to be handing over the reins to the very capable team that comprises the new Clinic Board. I'm a little sad that I may not again see a couple of the other outgoing BOD members with whom I've spent so much time these past couple of years. But mostly, I'm relieved. It is done. I was ready for the end.

Merry Mary Poppins

"Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, the medicine go down, the medicine go down. Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, in the most delightful way." - Mary Poppins

It wouldn't be my first choice if I was buying tickets but Merv and I went to see Mary Poppins tonight as part of our Mirvish subscription series. I was facing the evening with dread. Sitting through another children's musical isn't my idea of a good time. But Mary Poppins was actually okay. The music was light and lively and the staging was very clever. The story wasn't what I remember from the movie of my childhood but it was a long time ago so maybe I just don't remember as well as I thought.

While we were at the Princess of Wales, Cath and Stan were at the Royal Alex to see the Beatles musical, Rain. We met after our respective shows to compare notes and enjoy a drink at the bar in the Ritz Carleton. I think Rain was a better prospect than Mary Poppins but it could have been worse. It would have to go a long, long way toward abysmal to be worse than Little House on the Prairie or The Secret Garden, both of which were positively painful. Next month is the Blue Dragon and then Hair just after Christmas. I'm really looking forward to that. I can still remember all the songs, word for word, from playing the vinyl record album over and over again in my teens. I plan to sing along.

'Tis the Season To Be...

"Go ahead and play the blues if it'll make you happy." - Dan Castellaneta

It's been a while since I've written in my blog. The truth be told, I've been struggling with the blues and as it's Christmastime, I didn't want to write about that and be a downer. But my dear friend Sara reminded me yesterday, that this is my blog and I write it for myself so I can write about whatever is on my mind and needn't worry about it. Besides, she thought maybe writing it down would make me feel better. So here I am. And baby, I've got the blues.

The long nights and short days aren't helping but really it's not the darkness that is at the core of my angst. There is just so much sadness around me these past couple of weeks that I guess I haven't been able to keep from absorbing some of it. I was at another funeral visitation on Monday. My friend Mardi's dad passed away. Geraldine's sister Bev's time is fast dwindling. Ger is heartbroken. I'm thinking of my friends Stephen and Nancy who are dealing with the sadness of their own recent losses. Too much death. Too much loss in the start of this holiday season.

No time to wallow though. It is also AGM season for me. Last night was Willow's AGM. Next Wednesday is the AGM for the Clinic. I signed up for another three year term on the Board of Willow last night, but will not be doing the same for the Clinic. My term as Chair will come to an end on Wednesday. It's been a long two and a half years and while I'm very proud of the work I've done for the Clinic, I'm anxious to hand over the reins and move on.

Tomorrow the Christmas Sale is on at my Mom's nursing home. My sister Nan and I have been really busy all week preparing all the white elephant merchandise for sale. Normally, we get a lot of jewelry to sell but there was very little donated this year. As the jewelry is what the residents most look forward to buying, I spent the best part of the morning yesterday making earrings. I expect the three dozen pairs I made to be gone within the first half hour. I couldn't bear the idea of disappointing the residents. I'll sell them for a couple of dollars a pair, though the cost to make them is more than that but it doesn't much matter. They will be happy.

Of course, I know that is the ticket for combating the blues. If I make someone else feel better, I'll feel better too. Works every time.

Days of Trial

"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."
- Plato

The day brought more sad news when I learned this morning that my dear friend Nancy's father passed away in Moncton. He has been very ill and is finally free of the suffering that has plagued him for so long. But Nancy is a thousand miles away from home and there is little I can do to offer her comfort on this dark day. Even when you know it is coming, the death of a parent is painful. So I send my love, thoughts and prayers into the universe and hope that they reach Nancy and comfort her.

Later in the day, I saw a posting on my friend Stephen's Facebook page. On Monday, at the funeral of Stephen's wife Iris, his sister Helena gave a poignant eulogy. In the early morning hours of Tuesday, Helena's 22-year-old son John, was killed in a house fire in Alberta where he had recently moved to work in the oil fields. The family is devastated by this incomprehensible loss.

I've been trying to figure out these last few days, why so many difficult and painful things are happening right now. Every day for the past week or so, I have heard of a new death or a grave illness or a personal trial in the lives of the people around me. Why so much grief? Why so much sorrow? Why so much stress? The world economy is failing. Natural disasters abound. And there seems to be so little joy in the world at a time when in these pre-Christmas days, we are usually living in a season of joy. There are, of course, no explanations. But I keep searching. The best I've come up with so far is that maybe we're in a time of universal stress and the way we will come through it is to get a whole lot better at taking care of one another. A kinder, gentler world might help us all get through. But the only way to achieve that is for each of us to be kinder and gentler. I'm going to give it my very best effort.

Still Senseless

"What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others." - Pericles

I went to the visitation today for Iris. There were a lot of people there. I still didn't know any real details of what happened. Somehow I hoped getting some information would help me make sense of it all. I know I'm not alone in that as more than 200 people visited this blog in just a couple of days after I wrote the last post about Iris.

I realized today how little I really knew about her. We've probably only seen one another a half dozen times. It is Stephen who has been my friend for these many years and I don't see him often. We have lunch and get caught up a couple of times a year. I didn't know, for example, that Iris was an artist. Stephen brought some of her paintings, carvings and sculptures to the visitation today. She was incredibly gifted. I didn't know, until I read her obituary in the paper, that she was a Christmas baby and that she would have turned 50 on Christmas day this year. I didn't want to ask what the cause of her death was, but I listened to Stephen tell someone else that Iris died of a pulmonary embolism.

The tone of the visitation was different than what I expected. Family members all seemed quite composed. They are all probably still numb and pretty cried out by now. There was a slide show playing on a large screen and there were lots of wonderful pictures of Iris with her family. Her art graced the tables. It was sad but not the abyss of despair I was dreading. As it should have been, it was more of a celebration of the life of a special woman.

So now I have some information. I got a chance to hug Stephen and their sons. I know how Iris died. And yet, the very early loss of Iris Schmidt in the prime of her days still doesn't make one whit of sense to me.

Iris

"Life is not always fair. Sometimes you get a splinter even sliding down a rainbow." ~Terri Guillemets

It was one of those weekends when I spent too many hours trying to make sense of the senseless. Geraldine's sister is still hanging in, riddled with cancer and wracked with pain and at fifty-seven, way too young to be spending her last days this way. I spent time with my mom yesterday. She wasn't having a good day. She was vacant and drooling and unable to connect to the event of my presence. Mom will be ninety years old in just a few short months. Physically, she is still strong, the heart of a lion. It's hard to understand why Bev is, so soon, slipping away from the world while my mom continues to survive but I long ago accepted that in these cases, God works in mysterious ways.

What threw me into a tail-spin was an email from my friend Stephen, received in the wee hours of Sunday morning. Stephen and I have been friends for thirty years. He and his wife Iris were guests at our wedding, themselves marrying a couple of years after Merv and I did. They were well suited and happy - both athletic, outdoorsy, beautiful people and the parents of four blonde sons including two from Stephen's first marriage. Stephen sent an email from New Zealand, where he and Iris were flying to for a scheduled stop on their way to Australia to spend a family vacation with one of Stephen's sons who moved there a few years ago and Iris's brother who lives in Brisbane. Iris died on the plane shortly before it landed in Aukland. She seemed to have fainted and was quickly attended to by some doctors on the flight. She showed some improvement but then her condition worsened and attempts to revive her were unsuccessful. So now Stephen is in New Zealand, dealing with all that must be dealt with to bring Iris home.

Iris Schmidt - wife, mother, daughter, sister, employee, athlete. Young. Beautiful. Full of life. Gone.

No matter how hard I try, I can't make sense of that.

Halloween-Lite

"There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls."
~George Carlin

It is Halloween and darkness is descending. I've finished my supper of chili and French bread and am now waiting for the first trick-or-treater to arrive. Ordinarily, I make a big deal out of Halloween. In another year I would have been dressed in my long black dress with my face painted a goulish white with some spots of green and black decay, but not this year. With Geraldine's sister so gravely ill, it didn't feel right to me to make light of death. So this year, I'm doing Halloween-Lite.

My pumpkins are on the porch and the candles are lit but unlike in past years, there are no ghosts hanging in the trees and no spiderwebs blanketing the bushes. I've filled twenty-five treat bags but I have candy for another forty or fifty kids if I need it. It's hard to guess how many to expect. The first year we lived in this house, we had fifty kids come to the door. Last year we had only eight. Either way, there is enough. The children who do come are from other neighbourhoods. Their parents drop them off by the van load to trick-or-treat at the end of our quiet cul-de-sac. Our neighbourhood is aging and the mix of the immigrant population is changing. Many of our neighbours don't celebrate Halloween so their houses are dark. Not all the kids dropped off at the end of the street will bother to pass the dark houses to get to ours. It doesn't matter. Tomorrow I will bundle whatever candy is left and send it with Geraldine as treats for the kids at the elementary school where she works. I've made sure everything is nut fee so it can safely go to the school.

I'm hoping Geraldine and Dora will drop by so I can see Dora in her Halloween costume. I have a special treat bag already packed for her. I made sure to restock my supply of her favourite dog biscuits. I also bought a treat for Geraldine so she has a special bag of her own. Geraldine loves candy corn and I'm trying hard to find little ways to cheer her up. These are dark days for Ger and her family. I'm hoping even small kindnesses will help.

Rainy Days and Mondays

Talkin' to myself and feelin' old
Sometimes I'd like to quit
Nothing ever seems to fit
Hangin' around
Nothing to do but frown
Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down.

-Rainy Days And Mondays lyrics as performed by the Carpenters

Okay, the rain is starting to get really old. It's gloomy, grey and freezing cold - the kind of weather that invades my soul and make me want to stay in bed all day. But staying in bed isn't a luxury I have time to enjoy this week. I've been burning the candle at both ends including a workday yesterday that didn't end much before ten o'clock and surrogate mothering responsibilities that didn't end until one o'clock this morning.

On Monday night around 11:00, I learned that one of Jacob's housemates, Abby, was coming to Toronto on Tuesday to see a concert at the ACC and she would be sleeping at our place after the concert along with her sister and a friend. I was, of course, happy to have her here but it would have been good to have known a bit earlier. I got up early yesterday morning to change the linens in Jacob's room and to make sure the house was in order. I drew a map to the subway, provided my contact information and headed downtown for an early afternoon meeting. I concluded my work around 5:30 and proceeded to Willow for a Board meeting arriving home around 10:00. At about 12:15, I picked the girls up from the subway and brought them home, finally tumbling into bed around 1:00. Abby had a midterm at 9:00 this morning, so I got up at 4:45 to get the girls some breakfast and get them on their way.

Today will be another long day. I'm hoping to get home from my Clinic Board meeting by 9:00. I do hope the rain will stop. I can hardly bear the thought of another wet drive home.

Licenced

"Never drive faster than your guardian angel can fly."
~Author Unknown

I made a trip to Guelph this afternoon to take Jacob for his road test to get his driver's licence. He passed with flying colours. I'm really thrilled for him. This bit of independence was long overdue. After he got his licence, Merv met us in Guelph for dinner. It was a lovely meal, lively and fun and we were pleased to celebrate this milestone as a family.

The idea of Jacob driving independently raises mixed emotions in me. I love the idea that he can run errands for me and drive himself home on those nights he is in Toronto and stays out late. But I worry too. The traffic seems to be getting worse and worse with time. Drivers seem more aggressive and more careless. The good news is that Jacob has a good head on his shoulders and I know he won't take unnecessary risks, or drive drunk or get caught up in road rage. And I pray that every time he gets behind the wheel, his guardian angel will be sitting in the passenger seat.

My Friend Gail

“That some achieve great success, is proof to all that others can achieve it as well.” - Abraham Lincoln

Today my best friend Gail will walk across the stage at Royal Roads University and receive her MBA. Though Gail would tell you she is my much younger friend, she is in fact just six weeks younger than I am. For Gail to take on an MBA program more than thirty years after she did her undergrad degree is, in my mind, nothing short of amazing.

I remember the night Gail called me from Victoria during her first three-week stint on campus. She was distraught. She was a lot older than most of her classmates. She was struggling with the work load and fearful that the program was beyond her. We talked. She calmed down. And she embraced the challenge with a vengeance. And now here she is - graduating at the top of her class. Recipient of the Founders Award. Making a speech to her graduating class.

My friend Gail. Brilliant. Beautiful. Inspirational. Accomplished. I am beyond proud.

Chess

"Life's too short for chess."
- Henry J. Byron

Our subscription series took us to The Princess Of Wales last night to see Chess. Billed as a musical, Chess is really an opera made no more palatable because it is in a language I understand. Certainly the staging of it was cleverly done. The chess pieces are the musicians/singers/actors that comprise the majority of the cast. I was impressed that they played their instruments from a prone position when at one point they had been swept from the chessboard. The performances were strong. I could certainly appreciate the power of the voices. But in spite of those things, I found the show tedious. And long. So very long.

Contrary to my assessment, Merv loved it. He apparently has been listening to the CD of the show for years and could sing most of opera word for word. If I didn't think it would have ticked him off, I would have joined much of the rest of the audience and left at the intermission but I'm reasonably sure it would have annoyed him to no end if I had. It did improve somewhat in the second act. The music changed up a bit and there was more colour in the costuming and lighting to break up the relentless black and white. And it was shorter than the first act. Still, all in all, I would rather have been home, tucked into my bed.

Ouch

“Sometimes people do get hurt” - Mark Twain

It has been a long week filled with lots of work, most of it unpaid and clients who are making unreasonable demands of their ex-employers, not because they really want what they are asking for but because their feelings are hurt. Then there are things going on with my boards which are provoking high emotions and hurt feelings among a whole host of people. I've been soaking in their angst all week. I'm just plain worn out.

Throughout it all, I've hung on all week knowing that today I would have a little break from the madness, though for just a few minutes. Jacob is in town. He is representing the University of Guelph Engineering Department at the annual university fair at the Metro Convention Centre. He came in on the morning shuttle and is returning on the evening shuttle and somewhere in between I was going to go downtown and see him for a couple of minutes. We had agreed last weekend. When I sent him a note yesterday to set up our meeting, he more or less told me that he didn't want me to come. I said "no problem" and swallowed hard. He hurt my feelings.

So instead, I worked this morning and then called Nan. We met downtown to do a little bead shopping on Queen Street before grabbing a bite of lunch. Bead therapy for my hurt feelings. Geraldine called when I got home and asked how my visit with Jacob was. When I told her that I didn't see him after all, and had gone downtown for some bead therapy instead, she suggested a little dog therapy may be more effective. So for the next couple of hours, I have Dora. She was happy to see me. Ger is right. I do feel better.

Grateful

For each new morning with its light,
For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food, for love and friends,
For everything Thy goodness sends.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

It is Thanksgiving morning. I am sitting in the den looking out on the ravine. The leaves are changing from green to yellow and crimson. They are glowing in the sun. Jacob is sitting near me, finishing some school work. Merv has gone outside to do a bit of gardening. It is as warm as a summer day. Simply wonderful.

This afternoon we will go to Cath's for our Thanksgiving meal. I've been looking forward to it all week. No one makes a turkey dinner like Cath. Nan will have baked her superlative pumpkin and apple pies. While the meal is guaranteed to be delicious, it is time with our family that will really feed my soul.

It would be impossible on this day to enumerate the many blessing in the abundance of my life. And so I begin this day, as I do every day with the same words to the universe - "Thank you for this day".

Luck

“Just tell yourself, Duckie, you're really quite lucky!” - Dr. Seuss

Last Sunday when Nan and I paid a visit to the survivors tent at the CIBC Run for the Cure, we were invited to fill out a ballot to win a Pandora bracelet. I already have a Pandora bracelet as does Cath. I had decided a couple of months ago that I was going to buy one for Nan this Christmas. When I saw the prize I decided I would just win it for Nan instead. I was thinking on Thursday that I would have to go out and buy it after all, as no one had contacted me to tell me I'd won. So it was a very pleasant surprise on Friday morning to return from grocery shopping to find a message on my voicemail from the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation advising me that I was the winner.

The bracelet will be shipped to me by courier next week. I don't know what charms it will come with, but I will figure out a way to distribute the charms that works for all three of us. One of the best parts of winning was calling the girls to tell them. Cath is amazed at my luck for good reason. I've been fortunate to be the winner of a number of draws and raffles - last year's raffle draw at Eat to the Beat being my biggest prize. Merv and I loved that trip. This time, my sisters and I wil share the benefit of my win.

Minority

“It does not require a majority to prevail, but rather an irate, tireless minority keen to set brush fires in people's minds.” - Samuel Adams

I tried to stay up until the bitter end last night so I could know if the Liberals had scored another majority government in the province or if Dalton McGuinty would be leading Ontario from a minority position. I woke up on the couch at 2 A.M. with a stiff neck and reruns playing on the screen so it wasn't until this morning that I saw he had missed his majority government by one seat.

I don't have a problem with minority governments. In fact, a well run minority government can get a lot accomplished for the electorate. In many ways, it forces the legislature to be more thoughtful about its actions.

The results of this election are only surprising in that just a couple short months ago, the polls indicated that we were more likely to elect a Conservative majority than a Liberal minority. The election was Tim Hudak's to lose. Mr. Hudak seems like a decent man to me but I don't believe that his campaign reflected anything much of what he stood for. Other than a misguided suggestion that we start chain-gangs in the Ontario prison system, Mr. Hudak never did tell us what he would do. The basis of his campaign seemed to be anti McGuinty and pro nothing - hardly a way to connect to the heart of voters. On the other hand, the Liberals ran a series of very clever commercials in which Mr. McGuinty acknowledged his lack of popularity in the province but listed his achievements in the last eight years and launched his plan for continuing to improve the lot of Ontarians.

There seems to be a lot of "anti fever" going around right now. I find it hard to work up any enthusiasm for it. Anti Wall Street protests which began in New York are spreading around the world and are poised to hit Toronto as anti Bay Street protests. I'd be a lot more prepared to consider supporting those actions if I heard from those groups what they stand for instead of just what they stand against.

RIP Steve Jobs

"Almost everything--all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure--these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart."
- Steve Jobs

I was saddened this evening to hear of the passing of Steve Jobs. In his fifty-six short years on this earth, he contributed a great deal to to lives of ordinary people through his leadership and vision at Apple. By all accounts, Mr. Jobs fought the hard fight in his last battle with pancreatic cancer. His death will leave a large void.

On a happier note, Jacob will be home for Thanksgiving in just two days. I can hardly wait. I am feeling incredibly blessed as this holiday weekend approaches.

Tomorrow Ontarians go to the polls to elect a new provincial government. Whoever you wish to support, please take the time and go cast your vote. The poll numbers are so close that there is barely a breath separating the Liberals and the Tories. Every vote counts in this election. Please make yours one of them.

A Soggy Stroll

"The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain."
-Dolly Parton

Nancy and I showed up bright and early for this morning's CIBC Run for the Cure in support of the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation. It was quite cool with the temperature at five degrees and it was misting slightly. The U. of T. campus, where the event was being held was a field of muck. I'm not sure my pink Coach running shoes can be salvaged. I was convinced the thermometer would rise and the skies would clear but no such luck. By the time we had walked half a kilometer, it was pouring. The combination of the low temperature and the relentless rain was more than we could handle. For the first time in fourteen years, we did not finish the walk. After a couple of kilometers, we gave up and headed back to the car, wet, cold and miserable.

The event still raised more than $5 million. That is the rainbow.

Private Lives

“AMANDA: I think very few people are completely normal really, deep down in their private lives.”
― Noël Coward, Private Lives an Intimate Comedy in Three Acts

Merv and I went to see Private Lives at the Royal Alex last night. With Paul Gross and Kim Cattrell in the starring roles, the play was brilliantly acted, funny and fresh. The Royal Alex was quite full though the crowd was different from what we normally see. We were practically youngsters by comparison to most of the patrons. But like the other patrons, we laughed out loud during much of the production. At one point in the last act, even the actors were struggling to keep from laughing.

One of the most amazing things to me about this production, is that Noel Coward wrote and first staged it in 1930. It opened on Broadway for the first time in 1931. And yet, it is still funny and still relevant more than eighty years later. That's quite a feat. It is on at the Royal Alex until October 30. After that time, the production moves to Broadway.

Tomorrow morning the CIBC Run for the Cure in support of the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation will take place in downtown Toronto. Though the forecast is for a cold and rainy morning, Nancy and I will be there for the fourteenth consecutive year to do our 5K walk. There are normally more than 20 thousand participants at the event each year but I somehow seem to bump into the same people year after year. Participating in the event is always uplifting and is really the launch of Breast Cancer Awareness Month for me. Not that I need a particular month to raise my awareness. Unfortunately, breast cancer is never far off my radar screen or Nan's. And yet, we thrive.

שנה טובה ומתוקה Shana Tova Umetukah

“Another fresh new year is here . . .
Another year to live!
To banish worry, doubt, and fear,
To love and laugh and give!

This bright new year is given me
To live each day with zest . . .
To daily grow and try to be
My highest and my best!

I have the opportunity
Once more to right some wrongs,
To pray for peace, to plant a tree,
And sing more joyful songs!”

- William Arthur Ward

Shana Tova Umetukah to all my friends who celebrate Rosh Hashana. May this be a year of rich blessings for you and a year of peace, growth and love for us all.

Returned

"I don't need to worry about identity theft because no one wants to be me." - Jay London

I had dinner with Jacob a week and a half ago. He was upset that a few days before, his messenger bag had been stolen while he was playing a game with some of his friends in a public park near the university. Apparently the kids had put their bags under a tree next to the playing field. A few moments later, some of the bags were gone. While Jacob's loss was not as significant as some of the others, he did lose the Ray Ban sunglasses he bought while we were in England in June. At a price equivalent to about $300, the glasses were the most expensive purchase Jacob ever made for himself. His bag also contained about $100 in gift cards that Jacob had received for his birthday. The fortunate thing, is that the bag didn't contain his laptop, wallet or phone. One of the girls lost all of those things.

After the kids were robbed, they went to the police to make a report. But the police told them not to hold out much hope of seeing their things again. Jacob was hoping that at the very least, his messenger bag would be found and returned. He had ordered it specially from an American company called Think Geek and the canvas bag was imprinted with the geeky slogan "Bag of Holding" on the front. He loved the bag. After a week he checked with the police. Nothing had been turned in.

When he told me this story over dinner, he was still stinging. I told him he could of course, replace the messenger bag and it's contents but he said he would not. The messenger bag would be expensive to replace because the shipping and customs costs alone are high. He would never again spend so much money on a pair of sunglasses. When I got home that night from Guelph, I went on-line and ordered a new messenger bag from Think Geek. He was thrilled when I sent him a note to let him know. The messenger bag arrived just three days later and yes, the price was terrible because of the shipping and customs costs but I really didn't care. I intended to fill the pockets with the gift cards he had lost before he comes home for Thanksgiving. Merv offered to replace his glasses. I'm glad we didn't get around to doing those things yet because yesterday, Jacob got his bag back, complete with glasses, gift cards and Canadian Tire money.

He ran into one of the girls who had been robbed at the same time as he had. She asked if he had gotten his bag back as she got hers back a couple of days before. Her wallet, money, phone and all possessions were in the bag intact. Someone found the bags, went through her wallet and found her student I.D. So they took the bags to the campus police who contacted her and returned her bag. Jacob's bag didn't have any I.D. in it so they didn't contact him. He went to campus police and described his bag. In a matter of a couple of minutes, he had it back. The bag was full of muddy clothes and so was dirty inside. Other than that, everything was as he left it.

The mystery of where the bags have been for two weeks will probably never be solved. Jacob is happy and I'm happy for him. There is a very expensive "Bag of Holding" sitting in its packaging on his bed. I trust he'll find a use for it. I doubt he'll ever leave it under a tree again.

Working With Wood

"I like to work a lot with wood. I make furniture that falls apart. I also sew."
- Tim Conway

Before heading to the lake to spend a couple of days with Cath and Geraldine, I headed to Queen Street to buy some new jewelry making supplies. I didn't really have anything in mind before I left. For the last year I've been doing a lot of work with pearls but my interest in the stones has been waning of late. I didn't have any sense of what the next draw would be. I didn't expect it to be wood but it is the wooden beads that attracted me.

There is something about the feel of polished wood in my hands that I find soothing. I haven't worked in wood before so it was a fresh experience that unleashed some new ideas. My first three wood pieces are all quite whimsical. But I've been thinking about doing something different - perhaps mixing wood with some elegant polished stones and sterling pieces.

Merv is away for a few days so I plan to take my beads to bed and play with them a little.

Ten Years Later

"I was stricken by news and television pictures coming from the United States this morning. It is impossible to fully comprehend the evil that would have conjured up such a cowardly and depraved assault upon thousands of innocent people. There can be no cause or grievance that could ever justify such unspeakable violence. Indeed, such an attack is an assault not only on the targets but an offense against the freedom and rights of all civilized nations."
- Canadian Prime Minister Jean Chretien , September 11, 2001

Ten years ago today, the world was still reeling from the events of three days earlier when the United States was attacked by terrorists. I remember asking myself when watching television coverage of the attack, when the first day would come that the attacks were not part of the morning news coverage. By my account, it came two years later. Over the years, the words "nine-eleven" became a statement in-and-of themselves.

Along with much of the rest of the world, I held my breath last weekend in concern about another attack on the 10th anniversary of the September 11 attacks on the United States. And like everyone else, I exhaled a sigh of relief when the day passed without incident. Ceremonies honouring the victims of the attacks were held all over the world. The newspapers were filled with stories of the attacks. TV network programming schedules were full of specials and news coverage about nine-eleven. But apart from a few moments of coverage on the six o'clock news, I didn't watch any of it. I scanned the front page stories in the newspaper but didn't delve deeper.

Failure to immerse myself in the events of remembrance activities is not a reflection of my remembrance. It is merely a reflection of how I chose to remember. I place no value judgements around how others did that. I like to think everyone did it in the way that worked best for them. What worked best for me was to immerse myself in service to a cause greater than myself. It happened that the Weekend to End Women's Cancers ran on September 11 this year. So on the 10th anniversary of that day, I worked at that event.

I was pleased to see on the news that night that Prime Minister Harper declared September 11 a National Day of Service in Canada. It happens to fall in my belief system that service to causes greater than ourselves, one another and society is an affirmation that love is greater than hate and kind acts trump evil deeds. And at least in my view, that seems like a great way to honour those who were lost on September 11.

Life in The Pink

Hold me close and hold me fast
The magic spell you cast
This is la vie en rose

When you kiss me heaven sighs
And tho I close my eyes
I see la vie en rose

When you press me to your heart
I’m in a world apart
A world where roses bloom

And when you speak...angels sing from above
Everyday words seem...to turn into love songs

Give your heart and soul to me
And life will always be
La vie en rose

- Lyrics to La Vie En Rose

My calf and arm muscles are aching this morning after two days spent crewing at The Weekend to End Women's Cancers. This was the ninth year the event has been held in Toronto in support of Princess Margaret Hospital and the ninth year I have participated. With my walking days behind me, I have now turned my attention to supporting the walkers who make the brutally long 60k - 2 day journey on the weekend after Labour Day each year. The event seems to be suffering a little from waning interest and perhaps some pink ribbon fatigue. The $9.4 million raised this year is just more than half the amount that was raised when I made my first walk in 2004 in what was then known as The Weekend to End Breast Cancer. Increased corporate sponsorship, though, has well compensated for some of those diminished walker funds. Last year Shoppers Drug Mart took over as title sponsor of the event. While that is wonderful, in many ways that sponsorship has changed the feel of the event. For example, our hydration station on the first day of this weekend was located in the parking lot of an very busy Shoppers Drug Mart instead of in a peaceful park where we would normally be located. Shoppers Drug Mart sponsorship signs were unceremoniously plastered on the canapes of our station in dominance of the signs we had lovingly crafted in support of our theme La Vie En Rose. Our working crew was small - much smaller than normal because Shoppers provided some crew for the first day but they were clearly not interested in the work of the event and in the main limited their activities to standing on the sidewalk handing out charms and stickers. But charms and stickers are hardly the heart of what we provided. By the time the walkers had arrived at our first day hydration station, they had already walked 27k and still had nearly 8 to go before the end of the day. It was hot. They were tired and dehydrated and many of them didn't have the energy or dexterity left in their swollen hands to pour themselves a bit of water or uncap a Powerade bottle.

Of all the years I have participated in the event as a worker not a walker (5 times working, 4 times walking), I found this time to be the least personally satisfying. Sunday was a better day than Saturday. We were just our small crew of eight and were situated in a lovely park. We all worked like crazy to serve the walkers who at that point were less than 4k from crossing the finish line. There were lots of hugs and opportunities to speak to people, to encourage them, to really serve them.

Next year, my dear friends Nancy and Aivars are going to walk. They are so much at the heart of our crew that I don't know if we will be able to continue as a crew team without them. Our crew captain Maurice has declared that he won't be back next year. I can captain but I will need to find someone to drive the truck. Any volunteers?

September

“I love September, especially when we're in it.” - Willie Stargell

It's already the ninth of September. Jacob has been back in Guelph for nearly a week and the air of the mornings have the smell and feel of autumn. Tomorrow I will, for the ninth time, participate in the Weekend to End Women's Cancers. My days of walking the 60K route are done. I don't even have my lost toenails back from last year's walk. But I will work on the crew to support the walkers and I know from experience that is hard, but important work too.

This year our crew chose the theme "La Vie En Rose" for the pit stop we will run. Dressing for the event seemed it would be easy when it was chosen but it wasn't quite as simple as I had anticipated. Who knew it was going to be so hard to find berets? At the beginning, my quest was to buy pink berets for our team. But after months of looking, I decided I'd live with black or blue if I could find them at a reasonable price. Even that seemed it wasn't going to happen. But one last try this morning resulted in the purchase of four cream berets for me, my sisters and my friend Nancy. And just to sweeten the deal, they were on sale. I also bought short fingerless pink net gloves to complete my ensemble of pink and white striped shirt worn with a flared black skirt, fishnet stockings and a small pink scarf. Not that I anticipate the skirt and fishnets will last long before I trade them for runners and jeans. They'll be fun for the team photo though.

If you happen to be driving through the city this weekend and you pass the walkers, please honk and wave. Even the small gestures of support mean so much in helping people continue along the way. And of course, there is still time to donate if you are so inclined. You can do that by going to www.endcancer.ca.

Just Breathe

"The most profound statements are often said in silence."
- Lynn Johnston

Not a single word was spoken by any of us from the time we left our driveway until the time we pulled into the driveway at Jacob's house in Guelph. Sometimes there are no words. When we got on the 401 this morning, the traffic was moving with real efficiency. I watched the signs along the highway whizzing by with angst-producing speed. Mississauga. Oakville. Georgetown. Halton Hills. Wellington County. With each sign the knot in my stomach tightened. By the time we passed the Halton Hills sign I was reminding myself to breathe.

It is all so silly. Why am I still feeling this way? He is in his third year. There have been many goodbyes and many hellos. Am I ever going to get over this feeling? Isn't it supposed to get easier each time? We carried his things into the house. Merv helped him to set up his room while I unpacked the groceries I had bought. We kissed him goodbye and got in the car to drive home. And in the noise filled silence, I reminded myself to breathe.

Such Sweet Sorrow

"Beware of parting! The true sadness is not in the pain of the parting; it is in the when and the how you are to meet again with the face about to vanish from your view." - Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer

Jacob is upstairs packing. I am downstairs trying to pretend it isn't happening. Labour Day weekend - time for him to go. I could swear he got home only last week. A few hours ago we picked Jono up and went down to the Distillery for a farewell family dinner. Jono is terribly jet-lagged from his trip to Hawaii so he wanted to go home right after dinner. We had a nice time but dinner was short. We were all a bit sad when we dropped him off. The next time we see one another will be Thanksgiving. Five weeks feels like a long time from now.

Jacob wants to go to Guelph in the morning tomorrow. He has volunteered to help the first-year engineering students to get oriented to the faculty. He's working every day from Sunday through Wednesday and is required to attend an orientation team meeting tomorrow. It is generous of him to volunteer his time to help the new students. Generous but not surprising. I remember that he was very grateful to those who helped him get oriented two years ago. He's big on paying it forward. I, of course, am extremely proud.

So we will take him to Guelph in the morning and return to a very quiet house. Tomorrow evening we will dine with Brian and Geraldine. I'm hoping the predicted rain will hold off long enough for us to dine on a patio. Ger spotted a limoncello bellini on the menu at a downtown restaurant and we both want to give it a try. Transitions seem easier to get through after a bellini or two.

Transition Days

"Summer is like the ultimate one-night stand.. hot as hell, totally thrilling, and gone before you know it." - Anonymous

Jacob will return to school in just five more days. I'm trying to be brave. I think he is excited about getting started on a new school year though he is feigning indifference - I suspect for my benefit. He doesn't want me to think he's anxious to get away from home. Very sweet.

The sting of his departure may be tempered a bit by the demands of my incredibly busy work schedule. My experience in consulting is that it's pretty much feast or famine. I've certainly known famine but right now I'm in feast. I've had a few nights of late when I've been awake at 4 A.M. wondering how I'm going to get it all done. I will, of course, get it all done. I always do. When these times of feast come, I don't feel I can turn down any work. I never know how long it will last, so I plow through. Somehow it always turns out.

Adding to my current load is the revving up of my Board demands. Both Boards are taking an inordinate amount of my time. This too shall pass.

My biggest challenge is to figure out how I'm going to make my schedule work in a way that will still accommodate frequent trips to Guelph. He may be back at school but time with Jacob will still be my first priority.

Walking!

"All truly great thoughts are conceived by walking."
- Friedrich Nietzsche

My sister Nancy called me from Mom's nursing home this afternoon to share what she was witnessing in real time. Mom was walking down the hall. Though the doctor told us that with assistance, Mom would be able to stand again, she wouldn't be able to walk. But, of course, he doesn't know Mom. The physiotherapist at the nursing home does know Mom and he wasn't prepared to accept that her walking days are done. So she walks. That is miracle number one.

The second miracle of the day is that while walking her, the physiotherapist asked her to tell him her name. Mom hasn't been able to answer that question in several years. But today she looked at him and answered "Flo". Incredible. Stupendous. Amazing. Another blessing in our abundant lives.

RIP Jack

"Every member of Parliament has been sent there by Canadians, and that decision should be respected, and that member of Parliament should be respected."
~ Jack Layton

Even those of us who did not share his political views are mourning the death of Jack Layton today. His passing is a loss to this country. I didn't share his view of the world but I certainly admired his passion and commitment to making our society more just and equitable for all Canadians.

Mr. Layton's passing is made more poignant by the realization that he will not be there in Parliament on the opening day when the New Democratic Party will form the official opposition. He will not have the opportunity to watch his life's work come to fruition.

Rest in peace Jack. Your legacy of hope for the future will live on.

Flights of Fancy

Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away
If you can use some exotic booze
There's a bar in far Bombay
Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away
-Lyrics to 'Come Fly with Me' by Sammy Cahn and Jimmy Van Heusen

Part of Merv’s very thoughtful anniversary gift to me on Saturday was a pair of tickets to see Come Fly Away, the music and dancing extravaganza based on the songs of Frank Sinatra. The production is playing at the Four Seasons Centre for the Performing Arts. We first headed to Tundra in the Hilton for a wonderful meal and then to the theatre, a first time at this venue for both of us. The theatre is modern and attractive. The sight lines and acoustics are excellent. I don’t think there is a bad seat in the house.

Come Fly Away is an 80 minute performance run without intermission. A live band plays along with the recorded voice of Frank Sinatra while a dozen dancers choreographed by Twyla Tharp enchant the audience with their ability to seemingly fly. It was a very enjoyable and uplifting evening.

This afternoon Merv, Jacob, Jacob's friend John and I went on a helicopter tour of the city. Merv bought the tour as a gift for Jacob's and Jonathan's birthdays but as Jonathan has left for a family vacation, John took his spot on the chopper. It was my first time riding in a helicopter. I was a bit wary. It is not an experience I expected to enjoy. But I actually loved it. It is inspiring to see the city from up high. We certainly do live in a beautiful place. The tour was only ten minutes long. Merv was able to get discount tickets through his company but even at the discount rate, it was the equivalent of $10 per minute, per person. While it certainly was worth it, I'd like to take a longer ride next time.

Amazing Grace

“Grace is available for each of us every day - our spiritual daily bread - but we've got to remember to ask for it with a grateful heart and not worry about whether there will be enough for tomorrow.” -Sarah Ban Breathnach

It will be twenty-two years on Saturday since Merv and I got married. I've been thinking a lot in the last week about what I must have been thinking about that week (though I don't actually remember). I know I had great dreams and hopes for my life. I suspect, though, that I didn't know that I would have a life filled with an abundance of grace - perhaps more grace than anyone could hope for or expect.

Three days shy of our second wedding anniversary, Jacob was born. That very event alone made me one of the most blessed women in the world. In the intervening years, my life has been an abundance of blessings. I've probably never been more aware of that than I have been these past couple of weeks.

In late July, I went to Princess Margaret Hospital for my annual MRI. As I didn't hear anything from the hospital within the week following, I assumed all is well. But nine days after the MRI, I got the dreaded phone call. The MRI showed a problem that merited further investigation. Follow up tests were scheduled for today, sixteen days after that call. In those sixteen days, I hosted Cath's birthday dinner, Jacob's and Jonathan's birthday party and just last night, Jacob's birthday dinner. My Mom fell and broke her hip, survived surgery and is making a miraculous recovery. I am so grateful for those things - a wonderful family to celebrate and the survival of my Mom, that I didn't know if I even dared to ask for good results today. But through the grace of God, I got them anyway. All clear.

My life is almost an embarrassment of riches. I am so grateful. Amazing grace.

Gleeful

Don't be a drag, just be a queen
Whether you're broke or evergreen
You're black, white, beige, chola descent
You're Lebanese, you're orient
Whether life's disabilities
Left you outcast, bullied, or teased
Rejoice and love yourself today
'cause baby you were born this way
- Lady GaGa

I went to see the new Glee Concert movie in 3D last night with my friend Nancy and her brother Andy. It was a really fun way to pass a couple of hours. If going to the movie certifies me as a Gleek, at least I'm in good company. I suspect Glee is a guilty pleasure for a lot more middle aged people than just me, Nancy and Andy. The theatre was relatively empty but those who were there looked to be about as long in the tooth as I am. My only regret about the movie is that I dutifully sat and watched when what I really wanted to do was dance and sing. Maybe I will go back to a matinee by myself one day this week. The theatre is almost always empty in the afternoons. I can sit at the back and dance and sing my heart out. If anyone does look at me strangely, I'll just explain - baby I was born this way.

Fatigued

"Fatigue is the best pillow."
- Benjamin Franklin

The weekend is coming to an end. I have a great deal of work facing me this week as I need to make up for the client appointments and work I was supposed to do last week but had to put aside to attend to my mom. Unfortunately, I'm starting the week tired.

Jacob's and Jonathan's birthday party finally ended around 3 o'clock this afternoon when the last of the seven kids who stayed over, went home. I went to bed late after cleaning up and rose early to feed the hoard as they straggled in from sleeping. There were a couple of hangovers to deal with but mostly they were hungry and happy to be fed. I had barely cleaned up from breakfast when a delivery man appeared at the door. The kids had ordered Chinese food. They ate and left a big mess. I cleaned up one more time before I headed to the nursing home to spend time with my mom.

Mom is looking better and brighter since she is back in her own bed. But the poor nursing care she had at the hospital resulted in bed sores on her hip. The nursing home staff have taken great care to repair the damage but it is evident Mom is experiencing some discomfort. It's incredibly frustrating to see her in this situation. The nursing home staff report they have never had a patient return from a stay at the hospital, who did not come back without a bed sore. Horrifying and unconscionable.

As Stan dropped Cath off at the nursing home on their way home from the lake this afternoon, I ended up taking Cath grocery shopping when we left Mom's. I got home, made dinner and now need to clean up. I can barely face it. I think I'll try for an early bedtime and hope to wake refreshed in the morning.

In Her Own Bed

"A hospital bed is a parked taxi with the meter running."
- Groucho Marx

My mom was released from the hospital today and returned to the Houses of Providence where she is snugly sleeping in her own bed. I am very relieved and very happy.

It has been a busy day. Tonight we hosted Jacob's and Jonathan's 20th birthday party. I ran around much of the afternoon getting things ready for tonight. Before the guests arrived, I went next door to attend an open house being thrown by our neighbours. Then I came home to start dinner for what turned out to be fourteen of Jacob's friends plus Merv, myself, Brian and Geraldine. Sushi, a large crudite plate, Caesar salad, chicken wings, beef tenderloin and rolls made up the meal. For dessert there were brownies and a large birthday cake. Judging from the little that was left, I think the food was a hit.

It's after midnight now and I've just finished cleaning up the kitchen. It has been good to hear the sounds of the kids in the house. I am exhausted. It's time to head up to bed. There are a mound of backpacks and pillows in the entry hall. That tells me there will be a lot of mouths to feed at breakfast tomorrow.

On The Mend

"Our creator is the same and never changes despite the names given Him by people here and in all parts of the world. Even if we gave Him no name at all, He would still be there, within us, waiting to give us good on this earth."
- George Washington Carver

About two and a half hours after surgery started, Mom's surgeon came into the surgical waiting room to let us know she came through the surgery with flying colours. The surgery was a little more complex than planned. The break required them to put in a steel plate, and not just the screws they thought would be required. She will be at the hospital for two or three days before being discharged back to the Houses of Providence.

It has been an ordeal for all of us, most especially for Mom, of course, but also for my sisters and me. We have been helped tremendously by the love, support and prayers of so many friends. I will be forever grateful.

Wait Hardest

"No collection of people who are all waiting for the same thing are capable of holding a natural conversation. Even if the thing they are waiting for is only a taxi."
- Ben Elton

It was close to 11 A.M. by the time I arrived at the hospital this morning. Nan was here early and I had intended to get here sooner but I seemed to be stuck on slow speed. Not that I missed anything. No one had spoken to Nan. Not a doctor. Not a nurse. Around 11:30 the doctor from Mom’s nursing home stopped by to check on her. She was alarmed that Mom hadn’t been to surgery yet. I talked to her about the lack of care Mom had received and about my concern that her pain was not being managed. She went to the nursing station for a chat. Mom’s level of care immediately changed. Within a half hour, Mom was bumped to the top of the ortho surgery list. They told us we could expect surgery sometime after 3:00 P.M. We were surprised when they came for her at 1:45. We accompanied her to the surgical floor and kissed her goodbye. I fought hard to contain my tears.

We are in the surgical waiting room now. It will be a couple of hours before the surgery is complete and the doctor comes to speak with us. The room is a zoo. On one side of me a large, boisterous group is waiting for a family member to come through surgery. There are eight of them in this small room. They decided to throw a party, complete with party snacks. They are laughing and chatting and telling stories. They are very loud and very cheerful. I feel like throttling them. On the other side is a sari-clad woman. In front of her is a suitcase. I don’t know if she speaks English. For the first ten minutes after we arrived she chatted non-stop on her cell phone in a foreign language. She looks weary. A few minutes after we arrived she slipped her shoes off, pulled up a chair and put her dirty feet on it. The few other people in the room are quiet. They all look concerned. I suspect I’m not the only one who isn’t very happy about the party going on. It seems disrespectful. I wish there was somewhere else to wait.

Wait Harder

“Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worse kind of suffering.”
- Paulo Coelho

At 10:20 tonight we were advised Mom's name had been scratched from the surgery schedule. Tomorrow morning we will start the waiting game again. In the meantime, the medical staff had not given her morphine since 6 A.M. as they did not want to depress her respiration prior to her surgery. So she spent the day in tremendous pain from the hip fracture compounded by tremendous agitation from morphine withdrawal. It has been very hard to watch.

Other than one brief visit to check her vital signs and two to empty her catheter bag, the nursing staff have been invisible. No one checked to see how she was doing. No one came to update us on the expected time of surgery. It has been another long day. I'm spent. My sisters are exhausted.

We are trying with mixed results, to stay calm and not get angry. We get that she is not a priority for them. She is 89 years old. She has Alzheimer's. She can't communicate with them. She is not their mother. They weren't on the receiving end of her loving kisses. She didn't sing to them or read them bedtime stories. She didn't tell them she loves them. I wish they could look at her and see who she really is. Apparently they can't.

The Long Hard Wait

"The world is all gates, all opportunities, strings of tension waiting to be struck."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

My mom fell on Saturday night when a nurse’s aide at the Houses of Providence, left her unattended sitting on the edge of her bed. It has been a long three days since then. The doctor at the nursing home felt it best to avoid the trauma of sending her to emergency by ambulance. Mom hasn’t done well the last couple of times she has had to leave the nursing home. So the decision was made to give her pain meds and keep her sedated until an x-ray could be done on the hospital side of Providence Health Care on Monday morning. The x-ray clinic doesn’t open on the hospital side on the weekends.

Early Monday morning, we learned the x-ray clinic was not opening that day either so mom was taken to Toronto East General Hospital by ambulance shortly before 10 o’clock. Nan rode with her in the ambulance. I had some work I needed to do with a client downtown so I didn’t arrive at TEGH until just after noon. I found Nan crying, still in Emergency with my mom whose pain meds were wearing off and who was showing obvious signs of distress which explained Nan’s meltdown. It’s awfully hard to watch my mom in pain. There is no way to explain to her what is happening. It’s hard to comfort her or assuage her fears.

Our expectation and hopes that mom would be seen early were dashed after a couple more hours of waiting. She didn’t get into x-ray until 4:30. The news wasn’t good. Mom has a broken hip. The orthopaedic surgeon outlined our options – do nothing and leave her in bed for a minimum of the next three months, or take the risk and elect surgery. We chose the latter. Being confined to bed at mom’s age is a recipe for disaster with an almost certain outcome that pneumonia would soon set in and claim her life. Surgery, of course, comes with its own risks, not the least of which is that she won’t survive the anaesthetic . But that is the decision we made. We were advised the surgery would take place last night.
At about 9:30 we were moved from Emerg to a room on the 5th floor and told we would soon be advised as to when the surgery would begin. At midnight we asked for an update. Shortly before 1 A.M. we were told there would be no surgery until the day shift arrived. We all went home.

Nan and I returned to the hospital early this morning to begin the long wait. It is now close to 3 o’clock. We still don’t have a time set for surgery. She is sedated. We are exhausted.

Hospitals are boring places. There is very little to do. The staff at TEGH are nice enough but mainly indifferent. The facility is old and depressing. I’m trying to figure out what was in the mind of the decorator who chose the paint colours for the walls. The primary colour is diarrhoea gold. The trim is flesh coloured. It’s about as ugly a combination as one could imagine. The catering facilities are sad. The gift shop is small and very limited. The smells are harsh and offensive to my super sensitive nose. And we wait. And we wait.

Lions Lions Everywhere

"It's better to be a lion for a day than a sheep all your life."
- Elizabeth Kenny

We celebrated the first of our Leo birthdays last night though Cath, the birthday girl doesn't actually have her birthday until tomorrow. But as she is at the lake for the weekend, I hosted her family birthday dinner a bit early. I am awestruck when I look at Cath to see just how beautiful and unchanged she is by time. She was stunning last night in the geometric dress I gave her last week as an early birthday gift. She is as effervescent as always, still the same girl that shared a room with me in our childhood home and an apartment with me when we left home.

Today is my friend Helen's birthday. Next week, Jonathan will celebrate his 20th birthday. A few days later it will be Jacob's turn to leave his teens. A few days after that, my dear friend Gail will celebrate her day which will put an end to her insistence on telling every living soul who will listen, that I am her much, much older friend. The next day, my friend Samia will celebrate a milestone birthday ending in a zero. My boys normally celebrate their birthdays together but they haven't decided on a plan yet for this year. Whatever they decide I know there will be much cooking and much cleaning ahead in the month of the lion.

Water Baby

"There is magic in the feel of a paddle and the movement of a canoe, magic compounded of distance, adventure, solitude and peace. The way of a canoe is the way of the wilderness and of a freedom almost forgotten. It is an antidote to insecurity, the open door to waterways of ages past and a way of life with profound and abiding satisfaction. When we are part of a canoe, we are part of all that canoes have ever known."- Siguard Olson

A leisurely weekend spent at Cath and Stan's lake house brought opportunities for new experiences on the water. Though I love the water and am truly happiest when I'm near it, until yesterday, I have never been in a canoe or a kayak. That changed yesterday morning when Cath suggested we get into her canoe (a first experience for her too) and paddle around the lake. Two hours later, Merv and Stan were in the pontoon boat looking for us. They weren't expecting us to be so long and had started to worry a bit. They found us happily paddling back to the lake house, invigorated from our exploration of the lake.

Later in the afternoon, some friends from the adjoining properties stopped by to share happy hour. They suggested that we try kayaking. So this morning they appeared with kayaks for us to try. There is something about paddling in a kayak. It is a solitary experience, peaceful and self-contained. Though it had been suggested to me that it takes a bit more practice than canoeing, I took to it like I have been doing it on my life. Two minutes of instruction lead to ninety minutes of paddling around the lake. I absolutely loved it.

As I did last night, I will take a couple of pain killers before I go to bed tonight. As wonderful as the experience was, I worked a couple of sets of muscles this weekend that haven't been worked before. I expect as I did last night, when my head hits the pillow, I will sleep like a stone.

Wishful Drinking

"If my life wasn't funny it would just be true, and that is unacceptable."
— Carrie Fisher

Just when I thought our theatre subscription had ended for this year, we received our tickets for Wishful Drinking, the Carrie Fisher one-woman production. So after dinner on an outdoor patio, Merv and I headed to the Royal Alex last night for a couple of hours of entertainment. Truth be told, Merv wasn't much in the mood to see the show and had more or less decided not to like it before we even got there. But Carrie Fisher is funny and he was somewhat amused in spite of himself.

This afternoon we will head to Havelock for a couple of days with Cath and Stan at the lake. The weather forecast is perfect - hot, sunny and dry. Jacob decided not to join us. Jono is spending the weekend at our place once again. I would guess there will be a party here tonight or tomorrow. I will make a trip to the grocery store and lay in a few supplies before we leave this afternoon, just in case the boys decide to entertain.

It occurred to me last night that we have reached the middle holiday weekend that marks the point when we move from early to late summer. That means Jacob will be back at school in less than six weeks. The time is evaporating. I think I'll double my efforts to spoil him a little more for the short weeks I still have him.

I'm Just Wild About Harry

"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?" ~J.K. Rowling, "King's Cross," Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, 2007, spoken by the character Albus Dumbledore

I finally managed to make it to the last Harry Potter movie. It was simply fabulous. Suspenseful, exciting and true to the book, the movie held me in its grasp from start to finish. I even shed a few tears during the scene between Harry and his dead parents.

In a few months, no doubt in time for Christmas, I expect the full set of Harry Potter movies will be released in a single package. I know what I'll be asking Santa for this year.

The Livin' is Easy

Summertime,
And the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin'
And the cotton is high

Your daddy's rich
And your mamma's good lookin'
So hush little baby
Don't you cry

- George Gershwin

I love the heat but even for me, it's been a bit too warm the last week. By last Thursday when the temperatures were topping 39 degrees, I had taken to moving only from my air conditioned house to my air conditioned car and to the air condition offices in which I had to go for meetings. I couldn't even bear to go to Brian and Ger's house for a swim. It would have felt too much like simmering in a slow cooker. I don't know how people without air conditioned homes were coping.

Jacob and Jono decided to spend the weekend in Guelph and I offered to drive them so they could avoid the pain of taking the bus and then having to haul their luggage on the city bus system to reach Jacob's house. What I expected to be a short venture - an hour to drive them and an hour to return, turned into an all day event when a kilometre from reaching Jacob's house he realized he didn't have his key. We had a lot of hours to kill before one of his roommates arrived. We made the best of the afternoon whiling away some time at the pub and then doing some shopping. It wasn't the day I planned but at least I had some unexpected time with my boys. Merv was in Chicago for a couple of days and I had planned a couple of stolen hours to see the new Harry Potter movie and an evening swim. It was eight o'clock by the time I got home. I settled for a night of tea and television.

I passed Saturday quietly. Merv came home from Chicago, tired and in need of some R and R. Jacob and Jono were unable to arrange a ride home from Guelph so Sunday morning I drove down and picked them up. By the time I returned to Toronto and then drove to and from my Mom's, I felt like I had been in my car all weekend. Thank God for air conditioning.

Tonight I'll head down to Princess Margaret for my annual MRI. I was going to see Harry Potter this afternoon but my friend Maurice asked me to wait to go with him tomorrow. We agreed to pass on the 3D format. I don't feel the need to be that close and personal with Voldemort.

Birthday Brian

"The years between fifty and seventy are the hardest. You are always being asked to do things, and yet you are not decrepit enough to turn them down."
- T. S. Eliot

Our dear friend Brian turned sixty-five yesterday. After a lot of discussion about how his special day would be celebrated, Geraldine and I decided to throw a small, casual dinner party at their home. We planned a buffet meal that could be eaten wherever the 22 guests chose, at a poolside table or in the house. We laid out a few appetizers - a couple of cheese plates, a veggie platter and an antipasto platter and then served a simple dinner of maple glazed salmon, peppered beef tenderloin, caprese salad, green salad and rosemary roasted potatoes. For dessert there was birthday cake, a fruit platter and cookies. Everything was yummy.

A couple of Ger's sisters were there including Beverly. Though I have exchanged several e-mails with her and we are Facebook friends, it was the first time I've met Beverly. She is in the middle of chemo, a bit frail and in a considerable measure of pain. But she is lovely, wearing my old wig far better than I ever looked in it. A few of Brian's and Ger's oldest friends were there - some I recognized from his sixtieth birthday party but none that recognized me. When Brian turned sixty I didn't have a hair on my head and had long given up wearing my wig in the face of a scorching summer. There were few people who met me in those days who could see much more than the shine of my head. I didn't bother to remind anyone of our first meeting.

The night air was very warm and I had hoped to swim after all the other guests had gone. But the mosquitoes were biting and I was tired after a long day of shopping and cooking so I passed on a late night dip. It is a gorgeous day today. The sun is shining and the air is not so heavy as yesterday. I think the pool is beckoning me for an afternoon splash.

Emma

“Babies are such a nice way to start people” - Don Herold

I took a couple of hours out of my afternoon yesterday to treat myself to a little time with Geraldine's granddaughter, Emma. She is almost six months old now, a gorgeous baby with a sunny disposition. I've seen Emma cry only a couple of times and never for longer than a few moments. She has a smile that lights up the world. Her mom, Courtney, fed her just after I arrived yesterday and within a few moments she was fast asleep. That's when it got really good for me. Courtney handed her over.

There is nothing quite like the feeling of a baby sleeping in your arms. Some of my very favorite moments when Jacob was small, were when he was sleeping in my arms or better still, on my chest. Those moments made my heart feel full to point I thought it would burst. I spent a delicious hour with Emma yesterday, sound asleep in my arms. When she woke she was wide-eyed and smiling.

I love babies.

A Saturday Morning Gift

"Weekends don't count unless you spend them doing something completely pointless." ~Bill Watterson

It is Saturday morning, clear, warm and sunny. Merv is out golfing. Jacob and Jonathan have just left for their first day of driving classes. Still in my bathrobe, I'm savoring a cup of coffee, about to move to the deck to enjoy a second cup in the warmth of the morning sun.

On any other beautiful Saturday morning I would have enjoyed my first cup there. I would have sat in the quiet doing my crossword puzzles and enjoying the subtle scent of the roses wafting in the gentle breeze. But not this morning. The boys were upstairs in full chatter. If I sat outside, I would have missed the music of their banter. So instead I sat downstairs, not listening to their words, but to the rhythm of their interaction. The house felt full and alive - a gift on this Saturday morning.

My schedule is clear. Dora will be spending the day with me while Ger and Brian attend a wedding. I think we'll take a nice long walk and enjoy the quiet of the day before the boys return from class and fill the quiet with the joy of their chatter once again.

The Lazy Days of Summer

"Summer is the time when one sheds one's tensions with one's clothes, and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit. A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief that all's right with the world." ~ Ada Louise Huxtable

I can hardly believe it is Friday night and almost a whole week has passed since my birthday. It has been a busy week with client work and work for my boards but no matter how much is on my plate, I don't feel stressed in these lazy days of summer. There is something about taking my computer out to the deck and working in the warm breeze that makes it impossible for me to fret. I'm definitely a summer baby.

Last night I enjoyed a leisurely dinner in Yorkville with my friend Nancy. Time alone with Nancy is a luxury we rarely have. We had a delicious meal and a long chat. It was a really good night. Around eleven o'clock, Sara called on my cell phone to see if she could drop over to show me her new dress so I could give her my stamp of approval. Of course, she is a beautiful girl and she would look great wearing a potato sack. She was especially lovely in her yellow silk dress. When she left around midnight, I tumbled into bed and slept like a stone.

Today has been a quiet day. Other than being home to let in the window cleaners I had no plans. My sister Nancy was in the neighbourhood to attend a funeral this morning so she stopped by. We sat on the deck for a few hours enjoying the warm sun and the splendor of the ravine. When she left I went to the grocery store. Jonathan is staying with us this weekend. He and Jacob are starting their driving classes tomorrow so I want to be sure they are well fed tonight.

This will only be the third or fourth time I've seen Jono since he got home from school in April. I've missed him so much. I plan to cater to his every desire this weekend in the hopes that he'll find a little extra time to spend with us before September pulls my boys away from me again.

Birthday Magic

“It takes a long time to grow young." - Pablo Picasso

I am back at home, having spent the weekend at Cath and Stan's lake house celebrating my 56th birthday. It was a wonderful celebration. The weather was perfect. I was surrounded by people I love. The gifts were generous. The food delicious.

Before all the rest of our company arrived yesterday, Jacob, Merv and Stan went golfing and Cath and I managed to grab a couple of hours of lounge time on the deck. Storms were predicted for late in the afternoon but did not materialize. It was the first time this season that I've been able to enjoy the feel of the sun on my skin. We were outdoors a lot in the U.K., but there was no blazing sun in that time to slake my thirst for warm rays after a frigid winter and a wet spring. Those two hours made me feel renewed.

After I headed to the shower and dressed to welcome the rest of the gang, I had a hard look in the mirror. I decided things aren't actually so bad. I don't look a day over 55 - well maybe just one.

The best part of my birthday, though, was just having time to sit back and enjoy the company of friends and family. We sat at the lakeside bar, took a cruise on the pontoon boat, talked and laughed. After an excellent beef tenderloin dinner, capped with lemon cupcakes, we enjoyed a fireworks display on the water right across from the lake house, courtesy of the Belmont Lake Residents' Association. Apart from mosquitoes the size of sparrows, it was perfect.

So here I am. Fifty-six. Content. And so very grateful for a chance to celebrate another birthday.

O Canada

“We wish nothing more, but we will accept nothing less. Masters in our own house we must be, but our house is the whole of Canada.”
- Pierre Elliott Trudeau

It is a glorious Canada Day. The sun is shining on the trees outside my window. The morning air is warm. I love this time of year. In a little while I will get dressed. For the first time in twenty years, I don't have a new shirt to wear for Canada Day. In years past, our household has been garbed in new Canada shirts every July 1. I didn't get around to buying them this year. I will, instead, retrieve an old one from my wardrobe. No problem. I have a lot to choose from.

This afternoon Merv, Jacob and I will head to Belmont Lake to spend the weekend with Cath and Stan. Nan, Brian and Geraldine and Marg and Bob will join us tomorrow. Like last year, I will celebrate my birthday at the lake. Tomorrow will mark the second anniversary of this blog. I still enjoy writing it. I hope you still enjoy reading it. When we were in the U.K. for what seemed like a very long time away from my family and friends, I felt like writing my blog was a way of connecting to home every day. I liked that I received notes from people to tell me they were following my travels. While I love to explore the world, home is still where my heart is. This blog has been a good vehicle for me to stay connected to home.

Today I am reflecting on my profound gratitude for being a citizen of this nation. I have seen many beautiful places but none I would rather call home than Canada. I know with certainty that no matter where I travel in this fascinating world, the music of Canada will always call me home.

One Less Vice

Any committee that is the slightest use is composed of people who are too busy to want to sit on it for a second longer than they have to. ~Katharine Whitehorn

I'm often amazed how a normal day can end in such a different way than it started. I'm not talking about how life can be turned upside down by a tragedy, an accident, a critical diagnosis. I know those things come on quiet Tuesday afternoons or Wednesday mornings when you least expect it. I'm talking about other things that seem to be humming along in their normal course and all of a sudden change.

Last evening, for reasons I cannot discuss, four of the members of our eight person Board at West Toronto Community Legal Services resigned. As our Chair was one of those members, in the blink of an eye I moved from my role as Vice Chair to the role as Chair. Thinking about the challenges ahead kept me awake late into the night last night. All of this happened during the only Board meeting I've missed in my two year tenure.

Instead of attending the Board meeting, I went to the "by invitation only" opening of the new Joey Restaurant at the Eaton Centre. It was way fun. The food was fabulous; the service excellent. I met interesting people. While standing at the curry bar awaiting a bowl of Thai curry noodles, I was contacted by my dear friend Gail who sits on the WTCLS Board with me, and to whom I had given my voting proxy for last night's meeting, to advise me of what had transpired. Though I had tried to prepare myself for the possibility that is how events would unfold, I still felt stunned.

Within minutes of leaving Joey, around 8:30, I was already immersed in the business of the Clinic. There were calls to be made, memos to be written, plans to be developed. It is so much work. I took a couple of moments to take a few deep breaths and remind myself of why I agreed to join this Board in the first place. I do it because our Clinic serves thousands of the most marginalized people in our city. When I finally laid my head on my pillow last night, I was able to say to myself that in reviewing my day, I had truly done the best I could.

Be It Ever So Humble

Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.
- John Howard Payne

There was cold, fresh watermelon on the kitchen table and groceries in the fridge when we arrived home from London yesterday afternoon around 6:30. The plants in the garden look lush. The ravine thick with foliage. When I tumbled into bed just after 10:00 P.M., I could hardly believe how comfortable it was. I love being home.

We had a really great vacation. It was wonderful to catch up with family and friends who we have not seen for far too long. It was special to travel with Jacob, the man. It was exhilarating to discover new places and steep in the history of old ones. We will have memories to last a lifetime.

And, it is incredibly wonderful to be home. No matter how great a time had elsewhere, there are things about home that we take for granted. Things that are just part of normal life but never come to mind until we notice those same things are not part of normal life elsewhere. Some things I am grateful for in a whole new way...

Toilets that flush, first time, every time.

Being able to figure out how to dress for the weather. If it's frigidly cold, I can dress to be warm. If it is scalding hot, I can dress to be cool. I can slather myself in sunscreen to protect my skin from the blazing sun. I can wear a raincoat to keep dry from the rain. Rarely, if ever, do I have to figure out how to dress for all of that in a single day, or even a single hour.

Tim Hortons. A large cup of coffee is $1.65 as opposed to a small cup of coffee pretty much everywhere in the U.K. at a price equivalent to $4.00.

Have I mentioned how happy I am to be home?

London

"When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford." - Samuel Johnson

We dropped the car off at Heathrow yesterday morning with the odometer showing we drove 1,100 miles during our two weeks in the U.K. My feet feel like they've done about that much mileage too.

We took the train from the airport to Paddington Station and then walked the six blocks to our hotel pulling our suitcases behind us. The hotel is obscenely expensive and very basic. Our room is so small, it is necessary to step out if you need to change your mind. Nonetheless it is clean and well situated, about a twenty minute walk from Lancaster Station. Upon arrival yesterday we dropped our bags and hit the street with the intention we would walk a few miles then take the underground to Covent Gardens where we would dine before the show. As we arrived in Covent Gardens quite early we stopped by the theatre to pick up the tickets I bought on-line more than a month ago. They had no record of our tickets. I produced the receipt and the young man at the box office told me that the tickets had been issued for a performance for the day after I booked it in May. We were, therefore, six weeks late. I explained to him that I had a confirmation that the tickets were correctly booked for last night. He didn't really seem surprised so I guess we aren't the first people that has happened to. He gave us three tickets for a box, not as good as the seats we were supposed to have, but good enough. It was a great show.

When we left the theatre it was pouring. There wasn't a taxi to be had and none of us had an umbrella. It was a long, crowded walk to the underground, a long descent down the stairs (Merv didn't want to wait for the elevator and failed to see the sign that said there were 192 steps down to the train) and a long, wet walk back to our hotel. I practically collapsed into bed with exhaustion.

Today we bought tickets for the hop on, hop off tour bus. We rode for two hours then walked for five. We are back at our hotel for a short rest before making our way out for dinner. We have agreed to stay close to the hotel. We are all tired and tomorrow will be another long day. Our flight is at 2:00 P.M. We've had a great time. As much as I've loved it, I will be happy to go home.