because the world needs one more blogger
The poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.
– G.K. Chesterton
So, I took a little hiatus from this feature, though I’m not really sure why. In any event, it’s back, so let’s get to it.
1. Macaroni and cheese
2. Getting some Christmas shopping done early.
3. An honest day’s work
That’s what I’m happy about this week – what about you?
True silence is the rest of the mind, and is to the spirit what sleep is to the body: nourishment and refreshment.
– William Penn
In any world menu, Canada must be considered the vichyssoise of nations. It is cold, half- French, and difficult to stir.
— Stuart Keate
So when I said last time that I hoped it wouldn’t take me two weeks to blog the next leg of our vacation, what I really meant was, “See you in 6 weeks!” Sorry.
Anyway, we left Buffalo Thursday morning – another beautiful day – and headed north. We crossed the border with no problem and checked into our hotel, which was connected to the Rogers Centre where the Blue Jays would play that night. We immediately set out on foot for the Hockey Hall of Fame; David’s been wanting to go there for a long time. Of course, I made him pose for pictures:
But I got in on it too!
There was so much to see, but the crown jewel is the Stanley Cup, which we got our picture taken with:
Then we wandered our way around town a bit before heading back toward our hotel and the CN Tower. This is what it looks like from the ground:
Wow, right? Well, we decided to go to the top. David, who is afraid of heights, was a good sport on the way up, even though the elevator has glass peephole in the floor:
But that was nothing compared to the glass floor at the top, which freaked even me out:
There were a ton of kids up there, and none of them were scared; they were lying all over the glass floor, face down, or running back and forth all over it. I could barely look down, but I forced myself to walk across the glass part once.
Then we took in the view, which was amazing.
I took a panoramic “stitch” shot with my camera, but I don’t actually know how to stitch them together to show you (that’s part of #78 on my list – learn three features of my digital camera; haven’t gotten around to it yet!) so you’ll just have to take my word for it.
We headed back to the hotel for a few minutes to rest before heading downstairs, out the door, and around the corner to the baseball stadium to see the hometown Toronto Blue Jays take on the Evil Empire, aka the New York Yankees.
With apologies to Karen, who is a Red Sox fan, here are some photos of some famous Yankees:
Jeter
Rodriguez
Damon
Posada
Our seats were about 4 rows up from the field. At one point, A-Rod chased a pop up into foul territory and ran smack into a Canadian police woman. What’s awesome about that? Well, in one of those pictures, you can sort of see me and David! Here, I’ll show you:
Great, right? We’re famous! Anyway, the game was just ok, really, and the Yankees trounced the Jays, but I was psyched to complete my goal of seeing three games in three different stadiums.
All in all, I really enjoyed our trip. We definitely did not have enough time to do everything we wanted to do, so we are planning a return trip at some point. You can check out the rest of my Toronto pictures on Flickr, if you like!
“I speak two languages: body and English.”
–Mae West
Dear Person Who Found My Blog by Searching “белые тигры”:
Gesundheit.
Love,
Mel
ETA: “белые тигры” apparently means “white tiger,” judging by the images that come when I copy and paste that phrase into Google. I love the internet.
The one permanent emotion of the inferior man is fear. Fear of the unknown, the complex, the inexplicable. What he wants above everything else is safety.
– H.L. Mencken
So I’ve been thinking about this post lately. Not the boy – David’s got that part covered – but the end. This: “I learned, eventually, that you have to listen to everything, you can’t just pick and choose the parts that fit the story you’re telling in your head.”
And I was thinking about the story I tell in my head all the time – we all do it, we all tell a story about the life we imagine we live, about why we do things, and what we hope for. It’s the story we tell to get through the day, because the truth is so often less than we would like it to be.
My story’s about a girl who’s kind, and smart, and funny, and generous. Who’s successful, by most people’s standards, both personally and professionally. Whose life is more or less charmed in a number of important ways.
My truth, though, so often seems to fall short of that. I am often unkind, and particularly judgmental, at least in my thoughts. I regularly feel like everyone else is smarter than I am, particularly at work, and that I am a heartbeat away from people realizing I’m a fraud. I haven’t updated my weight loss photo album on Facebook in more than a year, because the truth is, I’ve gained 35 pounds in 15 months and I am terribly ashamed of that, and yet I cannot get it together to take control of my eating. My so-called charmed life has been scarred by some particularly shitty things, especially early on, and I lack the courage to truly face at least one of them. I live most of my life with some level of fear of not being good enough while setting such unbelievably high expectations of myself that it’s no wonder I fall short. I live with the man I want to marry and who I know loves me unconditionally, and yet I spend an inordinate of time and energy fighting the feeling that, sooner or later, he’s going to realize that I’m not quite what he thought. I drop out of communication with my friends and my grandma for extended periods of time because I just don’t have the energy or the attention span even to send an email, and by the time I do, so much has happened that I can’t bear having to recap it all, so I give up. That’s my truth.
Is it any wonder that the story I’m telling in my head is decidedly more upbeat? It has to be; otherwise, I’d never get out of bed.
Her full nature . . . spent itself in channels which had no great name on the earth. But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive: for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half doing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.
– from Middlemarch, by George Eliot
Some of you have asked after the woman I wrote the last Three Things post about, and I appreciate that. I’m more sorry than I can say to tell you that it’s my best friend Aimee’s mother.
Jeanette was diagnosed with Stage IV brain cancer this past March. She underwent surgery to remove most of the tumor and then received both radiation and chemotherapy. She had ups and downs, and the prognosis was never great, but we all so hoped for a miracle, or at least more time than we got. She began declining steadily towards the end of August, and by the end, she was bedridden and often unable to respond, though she usually knew when people were with her.
I have known Jeanette since I was 14 years old. It wouldn’t be exaggerating at all to say that she was like a second mother to me. In high school, Aimee’s house was the place all the kids wanted to be because Jeanette and Bill, Aimee’s step-dad, were totally laid back. They were great fun to be around, but they also knew when to make themselves scarce, and as long as we weren’t out of control, they left us to our own devices. They took all of us in and loved us and counseled us and fed us and, in my case (and in the case of her sister’s friends), sheltered us for a time.
As we grew and went off and had lives of our own, they still asked after us and greeted us with hugs and kisses and questions about what we were up to. They always encouraged us in whatever endeavor we took on and supported us and shared their wisdom, which was vast, freely. I loved them dearly.
Bill died in November 2005. The minister at Jeanette’s memorial service said it best: She was a widow, but she never stopped being married to him. Aimee told me that it was Jeanette’s great hope that, after she died, she would be reunited with Bill. I don’t know what I believe, really, about what happens to you after you die, but I hope with all my heart that they are together again.
Three weeks before Jeanette died, I went to Richmond to say goodbye. It was a difficult thing to do; she was bedridden, nearly bald, and able to communicate very little. She knew we were there, though, and we had some good laughs and a few tears. Aimee and her sister were gracious enough to give me a few minutes alone with Jeanette, and I was able to tell her how much she meant to me and how grateful I was to have her in my life. I know that she understood; she cried a little when she realized that what I was really saying was goodbye. She grew sleepy, so we decided to go. I was the last one out, and before I left her side, I kissed her forehead and said, “Goodbye, Jeanette; I love you.” And that was the last time I saw her.
Aimee asked me to share Jeanette’s obituary with you; you can find it here.
Jeanette with the quilt she made for Ben's 1st birthday
My soul is full of whispered song;
my blindness is my sight;
The shadows that I feared so long
are all alive with light.
– Dying Hymn, by Alice Cary
Today, the happiness is hard to find, so let’s focus on things I’m grateful for:
1. that a wonderful, smart, kind woman isn’t in pain anymore
2. that she had the best possible care — in her own home, which she loved so much — until the very end
3. that the people who loved her had the opportunity — one not afforded to many — to make sure she knew how much she was loved
It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves.
– Sir Edmund Hillary
1. the ability to accept the help that is available to you
2. sleeping with the windows open, and the resulting decreased electricity bill
3. having more money than you have bills
These are the things I’m thankful for this week. How about you?
A journey is best measured in friends, not in miles.
– Tim Cahill
So when we last left off, David and I had collapsed into bed in our beautiful European-inspired hotel room in Chicago. That was Monday night. Tuesday morning we prepared to head back to Detroit. I had hoped to somehow meet up with Jane on our way out of town, but she had her own adventure to tend to, so we didn’t get the chance. Instead, David drove us along Lake Shore Drive to head out of the city on another beautiful day in Chicago so I could see the waterfront and Soldier Field and Comiskey Park (which isn’t called Comiskey Park anymore, but whatever). It was lovely. We stopped for breakfast at what David tells me is the only rest stop (anywhere?) that’s built on an overpass (that is, it serves both sides of the big highway). He tried to win me a Nintendo DS from a game machine, but didn’t have any luck. Oh well.
By the time we got back to Detroit, we had just enough time to change and grab the tickets and David’s brother and head downtown to Comerica Park to watch the Tigers take on the hated Cleveland Indians. I had walked around the outside of Comerica at Christmastime, but this was my first time inside. I immediately went to the team store to purchase a Tigers visor so I could credibly root for the home team (and without betraying my Braves – the Tigers are in the AL).
We walked around the stadium so I could see everything, and I even got the boys to ride the mini baseball Ferris wheel with me!
I also got a half-yard frozen daquiri, but that is neither here nor there. We then got a beer and something to eat (I had egg rolls. Egg rolls! At a baseball stadium! And chili-cheese fries. Breakfast of champions.) before settling into our seats.
David’s dad snared excellent seats down the right field line off Stub Hub, and during warm ups, I looked up and who did I see? One Grady Sizemore, centerfielder for the Indians, stretching and jogging not 20 yards from me! He’s hot, let me tell you.
Once David figured out what I was doing, he tried to take my camera away, but I didn’t let him. It’s my duty to take pictures of hot baseball players, and I take that responsibility very seriously.
The game itself was great – the Tigers won – and we headed home to do a little laundry and fall in to bed.
Wednesday morning, we packed up and got back in the car, this time headed for a little town just northeast of Buffalo, New York. My cousin was to be married Saturday, and Wednesday evening was her bridal shower (she, and a lot of wedding guests, was from out of town, but nearly the entirety of our moms’ side of the family lives in this town, which is why the shower was there and so close to the wedding). Since she had asked me to be in her wedding, I needed to be at the shower that evening, so we left around 9 or so and headed for the border. The Canadian border.
As David is fond of telling me, if you head due south from Detroit, the first foreign country you come to is Canada. Going through Canada would save us several hours, assuming the border crossing didn’t take long, and time was of the essence that day, so with our passports in hand, we made a quick entrance into the Great White North.
We had a lovely Canadian day. First, we had breakfast at Tim Horton’s. Donuts, yum. Then we stopped at Canadian Tire. It’s hard to explain Canadian Tire – it’s a little like a KMart crossed with an auto parts store, I guess, but David has been talking about it as long as I’ve known him, so we had to go.
We found Canada t-shirts there, on sale for $8.99 (or “Nine dough-lers” as David was fond of saying), red for him, white for me. Then we stopped for lunch at Harvey’s, a Canadian fast food joint. This one was located inside a Home Depot. Thank goodness for GPS. Our burgers were delicious, and people in Canada are so friendly!
We made an equally smooth entrance back into the U.S., and made our way through the Western New York countryside on a gorgeous afternoon, and I honestly don’t know if there’s any better place to be. We got to my aunt’s around 3:30 and David encountered the first wave of family introductions. The shower was girls-only, so I left him there to await my uncle, the District Attorney, who had agreed to take David and Steve (the boyfriend of one of the other bridesmaids) out to dinner. He was not happy that I couldn’t be there for the introductions; I’m sure he had Sopranos-like visions of my Italian uncle picking him and “going for a ride,” but he was a good sport.
The shower was lovely; my aunts did an amazing job, as always. Afterwards, my cousin and I and one of the bridesmaids went to find the boys in town. We walked into the restaurant only to see my grandpa holding court at their table. I hadn’t expected him to be there, but I should have guessed he would be. We attempted to pull up a table to their booth to join them, but the waitresses stopped us, which was not a good idea. My grandpa doesn’t like to be told no. Next thing you know, the wait staff is dealing with an ornery old man, and my cousin and I are laughing our heads off because this is so typical. I think David might have been scared, though.
In the end, we took the booth behind them, and my grandpa came to sit with us for a bit. He told me how much he’d enjoyed talking to David and how glad he was that I’d brought him. Made me so happy. One of my aunts showed up and then the 6 of us – me and David, my cousin, my aunt, the bridesmaid and her boyfriend – headed to the only bar in town to catch up some more and play some darts. And with the exception of the boys, I can tell you that all of us are supremely bad dart players.
It was, however, a lot of laughs. I love my family, and I love how seamlessly David fits into it.
Around 11, we headed back to my aunt’s house where we were staying and fairly collapsed into bed, again. First, though, we had to repack a small bag, because in the morning, we were headed back to Canada: Toronto. I’ll tell you all about Day 7 next time (which, hopefully, will not be two weeks from now)!
Farewell, my sister, fare thee well,
The elements be kind to thee, and make
Thy spirits all of comfort: fare thee well.
– from Antony and Cleopatra, by William Shakespeare
1. the chance to say goodbye
2. seeing something you’ve committed to bear results
3. gift cards
What are you grateful for this week?
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