Happy Summer Solstice!
8:30 p.m.
This particular day he received from me a new shirt, four eraser plugs for his electric eraser (which is really mine, but as I wasn’t using it anymore [the copying of music now being a computer affair instead of an endeavour of pen and ink] he took it over), a new glass nail file and a CD which he specifically asked for. Buddy Boy and I took him out for dinner at our favourite Italian restaurant (where I had the sole amandine, Hubby the penne chêvre florentine, and Buddy Boy a steak that was more expensive than our two meals combined), and the two boys have just gone off to rent a movie. Little Princess called to talk to her dad, but he was out giving his son his first driving lesson and playing tennis. I think he had a good Father’s Day, all things considered.
I got laundry hung out, again in defiance of the weather gods. Suzie has been very happy since I placed a three-sided box on the deck for him. He immediately commandeered it as his bed and now snoozes in it every chance he gets. He’s not even trying to get in the house as much.
Yesterday, after I sang my Irish folk songs a capella, a francophone woman approached me and wanted to know mes origines. I responded, �Je suis humaine,� but that wasn’t what she meant, and of course I knew it. She wanted to know my ethnic origins. So I then told her, �Je suis juive.� Usually when you tell someone you’re Jewish, they have the answer they need, and that’s the end of the interrogation. Apparently in Quebec it’s different. They don’t get that Jewish is an ethnic group. They only think of it as a religion. I finally satisfied this woman by telling her that my grandparents came from eastern Europe.
I have been mistaken for many different nationalities, everything from Greek to Irish. No one ever thinks I’m Jewish, not even other Jews. When we lived in Greece, natives would approach me and start speaking Greek. I find it interesting. It’s good to keep people guessing.
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