Easter Partings

“Life is made of ever so many partings welded together.”  - Charles Dickens

We drove Jacob and Courtney back to Guelph after enjoying an abundant and delicious Easter brunch at Cath's.  The weekend simply flew by.  It felt like it had only been hours before that I picked Jacob up on Thursday evening.  We had a lovely Good Friday dinner with our regular gang of twelve.  Yesterday, I drove to Newmarket to get Courtney, that being the decided upon rendezvous point between her dinner in Orangeville and her family's drive to Collingwood.  Before I knew it, the weekend was all done.


The house is filled with flowers and enough chocolates to fill a small confectionary store.  I'm getting plumper and plumper but I'm not in the mood to diet.  I'm going to have to work hard to resist eating them all this week.  It will be a challenge to face the void left by Jacob's departure and work through it rather than trying to fill it with sugar and fat.  I was thinking on the drive this afternoon that it is so silly for me to be feeling so much angst at his departure.  He'll be home for the summer in just three weeks.  Interestingly, I remembered that saying goodbye on Easter Sunday last year brought me to tears and yet as Easter was much later last year, he was only going to be in Guelph for two more days before his return home for the summer.  I suspect that by the time we get to Easter each year, I've said goodbye to him too many times.  Today I struggled again, choking back tears when dropping him off.


These three weeks will go by quickly.  I have Dora for a week while her humans are on vacation.  Merv has a couple of warm weather trips on his agenda, one business and one pleasure.  As for me, I have a whole host of projects lined up.  Since pennies have gone out of circulation in Canada, I have discovered the joys of creating with them.  Last week it was a penny frame.  In the next couple of weeks I plan to add a penny-topped table, some wall art and a small table top desk.  I've also got a couple of jewellery projects that I need to get done in time for some birthday celebrations.  My hope is that keeping my hands busy will keep them out of the chocolate box and keeping my mind busy will keep it out of Jacob's empty bedroom upstairs.

Seeing Police in Valpolicella

"Language is wine upon the lips." - Virginia Woolf

There is a great pizza restaurant on Dufferin called "Camarra".  It had been nineteen years between my last meal there and the lunch I had today.  For the last year and a half, I have been part of a formal mentoring program through my professional association.  My protege is a young man named Steven.  We first met when he was working for one of my clients.  We developed a good working relationship and when HRPA decided to run a formal mentoring program, we signed up as mentor and protege.  Steven's company was located in Mississauga so about once a month, I travelled  to Mississauga to meet him for lunch.  But as Steven isn't with that company any more, today we decided to meet in the city.  When Steve suggested Camarra, I jumped on it.  They have the best pizza in town.

I arrived at the restaurant a bit early.  In perusing the menu, I was transported to another time, nineteen years ago when Jacob was two.  In those days, Merv and I, along with Cath, Stan, Nan, Marg and Bob were in a bowling league.  As we never left Jacob with a paid sitter in the evenings, but only with one of his aunts who were both otherwise engaged with us, we used to bring Jacob to the bowling alley to watch us play.  He absolutely loved it.  One night after bowling, we decided to go to Camarra for pizza.  While sitting at the table, Jacob noticed a table tent advertising the house wine.  The red was a valpolicella.  Jacob delightedly pointed to the table tent and said, "Look Mom.  Police."  He picked the word "police" out of the word "valpolicella".  I remember the little rush I felt and the looks on the faces of everyone at the table.  It's not that we weren't aware that Jacob was special but it was a reminder of just how truly brilliant he was.

Jacob is still brilliant and there have been many reminders in these many years.  Steve is just a few years older than Jacob, also brilliant.  He is a wonderful young man, kind, smart and respectful.  He is  one of those young people who, it is easy to see, is destined for greatness.  I enjoy spending time with him.  Though he would protest, I truly believe this mentoring relationship is a greater gift to me than it is to him.  I love being a part of helping him to actualize his full potential.  But beyond that, Steve reminds me of my own son.  I am a lucky woman indeed.

Postal Service - An Oxymoron

"I remember when the Postal workers started a slow-down strike for a pay raise.  They had to call it off - nobody noticed." - Anon

According to the commercials I've seen frequently aired on U.S. television stations, there is a huge outcry south of our border over the intention of the U.S. Post Office to eliminate Saturday deliveries.  I hardly remember a time in Canada when we had Saturday mail delivery.  I know we had it during my childhood but I'm not sure when it disappeared.  A couple of years ago a friend who holds an executive level position at Canada Post asked me how I would feel if Canada Post cut  weekly mail delivery from our current five day service to three day service.  I was actually shocked at the proposition and strenously voiced my opposition.  She was shocked that I would all that much care.  After all, in the age of the internet, there are few things we need to rely on the postal carrier to deliver anymore.  We get most of our bills on line or through direct billing.  Few people send letters rather than emails.  And the vast majority of what is delivered to our mailboxes is junk mail.  Canada Post is losing money. And therein lies the problem - the difference in ideologies between the belief that regular mail service is a basic right of all citizens and therefore needs to be considered a necessary cost and the belief that Canada Post should be a profit center.

I like getting mail.  I rely on the mail.  My clients send my payments by mail.  I get my magazines by mail.  I get cards by mail.  I get goods by mail.  I send a lot of mail.  When Jacob and his friends went away to university, I started making frequent trips to the post office.  I bought many ten dollar gifts that cost me twelve dollars to mail.  It gave the kids a lift to find a bag of candy or pair of mittens or a new hat in their mailboxes at the end of a stressful day.  I admit I was shocked at the price of these deliveries.  The cost of the stamps almost always exceeded the cost of the gift.  The price of sending a new t-shirt to Jon in Halifax was obscene.  In time, I changed my packages to provide fewer pairs of pajamas and more gift cards, at least for the boys.  But for the girls, there were still more tubes of lip gloss than Tim cards. 

A couple of weeks ago, Canada Post left a card in our mailbox.  It announced that we could expect to see some changes in the delivery of our mail in the next couple of weeks.  For one thing, it may not be coming at the regular time (usually around 10 A.M.) and we may notice the postal truck being parked on our street.  Yesterday I  saw the truck parked on our street when I went out to run an errand at 9:30 A.M.  I checked for our mail delivery every hour between 10 A.M. and 4 P.M.  When there was nothing in the box by 4, I assumed there would be no delivery.  I was disappointed because I've been waiting for a couple of things - not the least of which is a sizeable payment which is overdue from a client.   Merv was out for the evening and didn't get home until after 9 P.M.  I guess by the time he got home, the mailbox was stuffed with mail - not only our mail but all the mail for an address ten houses away.  This is the fifth time in the last couple of weeks that we've received someone else's mail.  I am annoyed.

I get that Canada Post is trying to create new efficiencies in deliveries and cut costs.  I can even applaud that effort.  But frankly, I think it is unreasonable to deliver mail so late in the day and the continual delivery to our home of other people's mail is unconscionable.  The odd mistake is one thing.  Five times in two weeks is another.   

Curacao

"If I had to choose a religion, the sun as the universal giver of life would be my god." - Napoleon Bonaparte

Feeling the heat of warm rays sink into my skin is as much a tonic for the psychic disequalibrium I've been experiencing as any dose of Prozac could ever be.  The sun has rejuvenated my spirit and lifted the cloud I've been struggling  under due to a lack of sunlight and the frigid temperatures these past two months.

Curacao is pretty though certainly not the prettiest island we've been to.  The sand is white and the water is crystal clear.  We're staying at the Hilton Curacao.  Surprisingly it is the least luxurious resort we've stayed at in the past 20 years.  It is clean but tired.  The services is indifferent.  The staff are cordial but far from friendly not that it really matters.  We're having a good time.  We've ventured into Willemstad the last couple of nights.  Yesterday we went to a gorgeous upscale restaurant on the beach, populated by beautiful young people.  I felt like we were on the set of Gossip Girl.  Tonight we went to another restaurant in town and once again dined at the water's edge.  Our meals have been delicious.

Willemstad is beautiful to look at from a distance.  The buildings are colourful and bright.  It is as one would expect a Dutch island to be, very clean.  But there is little to buy in the city and little to do other than to eat and drink and up close it is worn and shabby.  The tourist population seems to be comprised largely of middle-to-late-age Dutch couples.  They are surprisingly uninhibited about their bodies, the women wearing skimpy clothing without a seeming thought to their rolls and bulges.  I hate to generalize but in the main, they would benefit from a lesson or two in foundation garments. 

On Thursday we have booked an island jeep tour where we will spend a day exploring the national park and doing some snorkeling.  Tomorrow we will rent a car and explore a couple of the islands best beaches.  This will probably be our only trip to Curacao.  At this point neither of us feels there is a reason we would choose to come back.  But the sun is warm and the drinks are cold.  For this week, that is good enough.