My summer vacation: Part I
3:41 p.m.
Saturday, July 16 � I came into the kitchen that morning and the first thing I saw was the berry bowl I had bought in St. Jacob�s last month sitting on the counter holding fruit. I fairly freaked out. This was the wedding present I had left behind, showing it to my mom especially so that she would know what it was, and she had totally forgotten, found it, opened it, and decided to put it to use. She had also gotten rid of the box it was in, which actually upset me more, and I ran around the house, looking for something suitable, finally finding a very old box behind the kneewall which held my textbooks from when I took the legal secretarial course at Shaw Colleges in 1976.
The other thing my mom did, which also made me very upset, was remove the paintings and drawings which had been on the walls of my old bedroom without telling me, and dispose of them. When I asked her if she had thrown them away or just put them aside, she honestly could not remember. I�m not sure if I�m more upset that my teenage artwork is gone, or that my mother�s memory is suffering a similar fate.
We drove to Cambridge after lunch where the July birthday party was held. The weather was not conducive to lounging on the deck, consisting of thunderstorms and so much rain that my brother-in-law�s pool looked ready to overflow. It was fun, nonetheless, and my sister-in-law got very high on happy juice and kept hugging me and telling me how much she loved me.
Sunday, July 17 � We stayed over at Hubby�s parents� and they served us a humungous brunch the next morning, enough to tie us over until the wedding reception. Once at my mother�s, we got ourselves all gussied up and then headed out to the renovated cinema where I remember seeing CharIie ChapIin in M0dern Times when I was a teenager. The central area had been set up as sanctuary and the wedding was performed by a female rabbi of a Jewish Humanist congregation, something I had never heard of. The ceremony was rather long, but my kids and husband found it interesting. The groom�s family is not Jewish; in fact, he is half Chinese, but his mother had lovingly made the chupa out of Chinese silk and I guess he must have converted. The food was fantastic, consisting of an Asian fusion menu (a choice of snapper or chicken for the main course--we were fortunate enough to get the last two fish plates, and our waitress only had to whine a little bit in the kitchen) and all sorts of interesting side dishes. Dessert was served at �stations� set up in the four corners of the hall: delicious chocolate creations and lots and lots of fresh fruit.
The band was incredible, a 7-piece combo with a singer performing music of the 20s and 30s. My cousin is a Ph.D. graduate in drama and film studies, and she planned it out very carefully, the art deco theatre and the band�s choice of repertoire. We had a great time dancing. I even got Buddy Boy up there, and he was pretty good. I wore the purple Chinese silk number I made last year, and all the Chinese relatives were complimenting me on it, especially when they found out I�d made it myself. The groom�s uncle was quite amazed, even more so when I mentioned my children, and then introduced them. He thought that I would have little kids. Ha ha ha ha!
I guess what you all really want to know is how my brother and I interacted. Right after the ceremony, I waited until he was no longer engaged with my mother and her relatives, and then I just gave him a really big hug and told him how nice it was to see him. I tried to make conversation with his wife, but she was very brusque. Oh well. They did not sit at our table, but my kids got to visit with them after supper was over and while Hubby and I danced. Their oldest daughter was there, and it was really nice for Little Princess to reconnect with her cousin. When they were leaving, I gave my brother yet another hug, and shook my sister-in-law�s hand. I have done my bit.
Monday, July 18 � Hubby had an interview at the CBC building in downtown Toronto that afternoon, so we all took the subway (after clogging up my mother�s upstairs toilet to the point where it needed a plumber, but you don�t really want to hear about that) to Uni0n Station and walked west along Front Street to the huge edifice of glass and concrete where Canada�s public radio system has its Toronto headquarters. The kids and I ate lunch in the spacious glassed-in courtyard while we waited for Hubby, and found a new game to play with our cellphone, which doesn�t even have to be on. You hold it up to your ear and have a very loud, one-sided conversation with the deity of your choice, apologizing for messing up the assigned miracle, etc. It was funny the first time, anyway.
After Hubby reappeared (we have a date for the broadcast of the symphony, by the way) and ate some lunch, we started walking north along Bay Street to the old and new city halls. It was very hot and inner-city stinky, but these are my old stomping grounds. We passed the 72-storey building where I once worked as a legal secretary (on the 68th floor), then through Chinatown to Yonge Street and spent a half-hour or so at Sam�s where I had a delightful conversation with the man in charge of the classical collection about how much the street has changed since I left the city in 1978. Hubby, of course, spent many $$ on more blues CDs, his present passion, Buddy Boy got something he likes (which I hate, isn�t that the way it goes?) and Little Princess got a T-shirt for her boyfriend. We continued north along Yonge street, stopping once for refreshments at a caf� and again at a comic book store (where I lounged on a comfy chair waiting while my loved ones browsed, tempted terribly by the row of computers available for public internet access). Once we reached the corner of Yonge and Bloor, we turned west and walked the 2 km. to Bathurst Street where we met Mark and Jenn.
We proceeded to a Thai restaurant, where the food was wonderful but too plentiful, and then to the Future Bakery where we sat under a tree while we had dessert and both Mark and Jenn got pooped on by a berry-eating bird. In fact, Mark got splattered twice, and the second time his dessert received a dose. The waitress brought him another and there were no more incidents. It certainly makes you glad that cows can�t fly.
I think this is long enough for an entry. There�s more to come. If you haven�t read my report on our trip home, just click back one.
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