Happy Mother's Day!

We woke up this morning, and after I put on my glasses I realized that it was snowing and not just foggy. Imagine, the 9th of May and there are fat flakes falling from the sky when all winter we had about three snow falls and none of those large... go figure. What better way to celebrate the unpredictability of Motherhood than with an unexpected snow fall?

When Rhys Came to Visit

I have been busily blogging posts about when Rhys spent the weekend here...way back in March. For quick access, here is a list of links to all of the posts in descending chronological order. (Obviously As they run in the blog, they seem backwards).

I love reading your comments, and knowing you're reading, so feel free to leave some!

Rhys Goes to the Biosphere
Rhys Visits the Redpath Museum
Rhys Likes Poutine!
Rhys Visits Montreal's Olympic Stadium
Rhys Eats a Beavertail!
And then Rhys Climbed the Mountain
Rhys Learns to Skate
Rhys Eats a REAL Bagel
Rhys Visits the Sugar Shack

MAC Fashion Show

You know you're old, and "the next generation" when you go back to your old high school and nothing looks the same, you don't know any of the kids and you get little too excited when there is still a teacher you recognize. However change is good, and the addition of this Fashion Show into the school Leadership program is a good thing. They started the idea when I was still there *mumble*years ago, but it never took off for what ever reason. There wasn't the Leadership program then that they have now, so it may have been too much of an extra activity. Nonetheless, the organizing committee did a great job putting it all together, and I was thoroughly impressed by it! If I were part of this event, I would have been very proud with myself, and so should these girls. It takes talent, and patients to pull an event off and I can just imagine all the prep work, design, planning, coordination, and choreographing the whole production involved, not to mention organizing the clothes. However, it came together wonderfully, everyone looked great, and they all walked confidently down the catwalk. Best of all, I am good friends with one of the organizers, Alycia, so I had great seats!

The girls lined up for the "Pragai" line. Alycia's the the one in the middle standing on the box.

Alycia strutting her "Pragai" outfit.

Alycia showing off her "Tiger Distribution" outfit.

...and walking away.

And finally, some of the grad couples wore formal wear from "Christina" and "Moores", only a couple more months and they'll be wearing them for real!

Chapter 13: Next Time, Lie!

Note to all: I am not promoting lying, in any circumstance. This was just the exhausted conclusion we came to at the end of our day...

Some of you may have heard that Mum and I have been going through the exciting process of trying (emphasis on trying) to exchange her UK license for a Quebec one. For myself this was easy: I phoned, made an appointment, brought all the necessary documents they wanted and voila! I had a Quebec license. My Mother on the other hand had a slightly more convoluted route to take. Mum started this whole process which took me a day to complete, way back in November. And it still isn't over.

To give you a rough idea of the "flow chart-esque" direction all this has followed, this is what we've done so far:

Brought papers to SAAQ; ticked "MS" box on declaration form, got sent away to see the Dr. ---> Made appointment with Dr. for letter saying "OK to drive" ---> found out the wrong appointment was made, we made another one ---> came back weeks later, then had to wait a week for the Dr. to fill out the form ---> brought it back to the SAAQ, where the form was sent to Quebec for approval ---> they say they'll mail Mum the result ---> Quebec says on of the parts wasn't filled out, which means another appointment downtown ---> which leads us to today.

So far, Mum and I have been to the SAAQ 4 times between the two of us, just once for me. That's 2 times too many, but we know the way really well now! Today's task was to get a Dr. to say Mum's brace was OK for her drive with. This sounds easy enough, if you can find the place the first time round. After arriving at the right building, we proceeded to turn up a one-way street...oops, then decided to go around the block and come down the road the right way, finding a space. After a nice lady came out and warned us about the traffic cops, I moved the car...twice. Second time into a space we had been told was for blue-badge holders. More of that later.

Once, parked and inside we were told the Dr. was in the adjacent building. Now that we were in the right building Mum finally got to see the Dr. All was well...no oops. He gave Mum a prescription for a brand new brace, and we set out to make that next door (first building we had gone to). They said they could take us today which was good because it would save us another trip out that way. So about 2 hours later, we left...to find a ticket on the windshield. Poop!

Moving on, we decided to go on a merry drive up to the SAAQ to finally get this done! So, confidently with the form in hand we went in and waited to be seen. A nice lady helped us - she faxed the form to Quebec, and again an hour later, we hear back from them...they need more time; Mum will receive word through the mail. Darn. Guess this means another trip to the SAAQ!

Success list so far: letter from Dr, check. New brace, check. QC license....no. Feeling deflated and hungry (remember it's 3:30pm at this point, and we'd left the house at 9am) we headed to Tim's for soup and a coffee. This was much needed, except for the blue-badge door button that wouldn't work going in (I wont take that as an omen).

Now we are home, and calm, and not hungry. After a day like today, and knowing there's still more to do until Mum does actually have her real license in her hot little hands, you can see why sitting in the Tim's laughing from fatigue, eating "cream of noodle soup", you can understand why both Mum and I came to the conclusion that all this could have been avoided if only she'd just lied in the beginning!!

http://www.saao.ac.za/~wpk/gallery/signs/nowarning.jpg

Happy Easter

Tis the season yet again to O.D. on chocolate, wear your Easter bonnet, and decorate numerous locations in various egg-bunny-spring theme. On top of the sweet treats associated with the Easter season I enjoy the religious traditions as well. Being a Vicar's daughter, Easter was spent in a church. Shrove Tuesday kicked things off for Lent which followed, and it all escalated from there: Lenten discussion groups, increased church services, Easter gardens, etc. Until finally we reached Holy Week, the week before Easter. The bells were silent for the whole week, and in England we had a service every day of the week taking us closer to the event of the crucifiction. And finally my favourite service, the First Light which takes place in darkness and light is slowly re-introduced by candle light. Many of us get wrapped up in the bunnies, and eggs and chocolate and often loose sight of why we're marking this day in our calendar. For me, it's new beginnings...that new light. Admitting that you've gone off course and that you're not perfect, but that you want to do better and be better. How many times do we make resolutions at Christmas, and half way through the year realize we kept them for about a week or that you only went to the gym once in the past four months, or you couldn't really stop eating ice cream as you thought. What if you had a second chance? A chance to say "I admit it, I failed" and someone said "no problem, just try again." Easter is our second chance; A time to reassess, and see if you maybe with a second go you can get where you want. Or just choose another goal. Whichever, every time you're unwrapping the pastel-coloured foil on those little milk chocolate eggs think of it as your second chance being hatched, and that you're celebrating your decision with chocolate!

As part of our Easter celebrating, our family makes Easter eggs of our own. Mum taught us to make them our of home made fondant, and Dad taught us how to dip them. These are definitely worth a post of their own.

Happy Easter!

This year's crop of eggs: this year, I made chocolate, vanilla, and butterscotch. I would have made pistachio but they didn't have any :(

Clearly, when Dad was teaching us the delicate process of dipping eggs he needed a beer for support!

Rhys Visits the Sugar Shack

To round off Rhys' Canadian visit and introduction to Montreal we took a little trip to the Sugar Shack. This time, my best friend Cheryl joined us for the outing. I've known Cheryl since I was 8 so if anyone does, Cheryl represents my life before England so I'm glad Rhys got to meet her.

We all piled in the car and drove out to Morgan Arboretum where I can remember going to visit the sugar shack on school field trips in Kindergarten. It was so nice to be back there, with Rhys on his maiden visit. We arrived and decided to wait for a trailer to take us out to the sugar shack as the first one was over flowing with small humans. While waiting for the second trailer, we headed over to the pic-nick tables, and I got a sausage in a bun, while Cheryl and Rhys waited for our trays of taffy on the snow. At first, Rhys looked at this with a furrowed brow as he tried to work out the mechanics of actually consuming this strip of amber deliciousness. After a brief tutelage from Cheryl and from me: take popsickle stick in hand, place flat over the taffy strip, and begin to roll, he got the hang of it and was right in there digging in. In fact, he loved it so much, we got a second tray.... oh boy, the sugar pulsing through our veins. In an attempt to let some of the sugar settle, we hopped (precariously) onto the next available trailer and went out to see where the magic happens. Though they weren't boiling while we were there, there was the Sugar Master to tell us how it's done. We then stopped off at a small cabin for some hot chocolate and roasted marshmallows to warm our chilly hands before heading back to the car.
Rhys definitely came away with a new love for maple syrup and taffy...signs that he will be back!!!

Oh good....more sugar :)

Rhys Easts a REAL Bagel

While staying in Montreal, how could Rhys not eat a fresh Montreal bagel?? There is a huge debate: Montreal, or New York bagel? Not because I'm biased, but I believe Montreal wins that one hands down! They're doughy not cakey, they taste fresh, and their outer edges crisp up perfectly in a toaster. Luckily, these such bagels are made locally in Montreal in an area called St. Viateur so I just had to take Rhys out to the bagel bakery on his penultimate day.

I can remember driving out to St. Viateur with my family, late at night on hot Summer nights when it's 9:30pm and is still 25 degrees and humid. We'd always buy 2 dozen bagels; one dozen for home, and one dozen for the car. We never actually made it through the whole dozen in the car but because the bagels are made right there in front of you in the wood burning bread oven. You see the whole process right from mixing the dough, forming the bagels, dipping them in sesame (most popular flavour), baking, and finally removing with a long wooden paddle. When you buy the bagels, they're still hot and soft on the inside, and crisp a lovely on the outside. We would sit in the car and eat our delicious bagels, I would slowly work my way through eating the inside first, then working on the outside after.

This heavenly delight has to be enjoyed for the first time fresh! So, Rhys and I headed out early and hit the metro system for the last time in Rhys' visit. (Consequently this meant he had now traveled on all the lines of the metro!) I hadn't been to the bakery in a good decade so when I walked in and smiled, and Rhys walked in and said "wow" I knew it was worth shlepping all the way out here just for bagels.

Rhys Learns to Skate

When Rhys originally said he wanted to come up to Montreal for a visit I started thinking about what we could do. Keep it local, and very Montreal/Canadian, and try to do things I've done all my life just to give Rhys a taste of who I was before he met me in England a couple years ago. One of the things that sprung to mind was naturally going skating (subtitle: ice skating) at our local rink. As many other kids growing up in Canada did, I learned to skate mostly on a frozen patch of water in our town. I've gone through minuscule pairs of skates eventually graduating to the current pair I have now that I was given for Christmas when I was 15. Rhys on the other hand did not have a pair handy to pop in his hand luggage....more on that later. Rhys didn't exactly turn me down flat when I suggested we go skating, more there was a pause then an "ummm". Rhys delicately explained to me that the last time he had taken to the ice was on a not-so-successful date about two years after the time I got my skates. I reassured Rhys he didn't have to worry about me abandoning him in a far off corner of the rink, and that if he wanted to cling to the wall the whole time that was fine too. He made a pledge to not take hold of the wall once, all I had to do was find him a pair of skates. Right...as my friend pointed out rinks don't often rent out skates because every Canadian owns their own pair. So, after considering a few options I happened to come across my Dad's skates in our storage room. Skates: check!
Rhys lived up to his promise and did not cling to the wall, and though he didn't clock many miles on his speedometer going around the rink, he certainly clocked quite a few for confidence! I was worried that the little kids whizzing around him might actually run him over, but telling him "just stay put, they'll go around you" was the safest option. The smile on his face when we got home as he asked if we could go back again tomorrow was really great. Not only does he love poutine, now he wants to skate more! I'll make a Canadian out of him, yet :)

And Then Rhys Climbed the Mountain

Because traveling to the top of the Olympic Stadium wasn't enough in the day, Rhys and I decided to take advantage of the break in the weather to head up the mountain to see what the city looked like from the other side (practically) of the island of Montreal. About 3/4 of the way up the mountain on the South-East side there's a lookout. This was our goal to get there. Neither of us like stairs...less so now. I should have counted, really, because when we got to the top it felt like we had scaled the side of the mountain without the stairs... What's crazier is there were runners running up stairs next to us as we wheezed our way up. It was worth it, though!! Getting to the top just as the sun was coming out and seeing all the landmarks, and where we had just come from, was magic! So Montreal.

That's the Art's Building, right next to where the Redpath Museum

Rhys Eats a Beavertail!

One of the other (many) things I figured that Rhys needed to do while he was here was having a beavertail. Now, for everyone pulling out their "poutine face" I assure you they are scrumptious, and not made of meat. Beavertails or "queues de castor" are very Canadian, and particularly Quebecoise. Therefore, Rhys had to try some while staying here...naturally. Luckily enough, there is an establishment that sells them right here in Old Montreal's Old Port, so to kill two birds with one metro ride we went to The BeaverTails Co. for a bite to eat after leaving the Olympic stadium on our way to climb the mountain.
Old Montreal's Old Port is as the name implies; old, and is the one of the oldest parts of Montreal. Very reminiscent of England with its Ye Olde Streetes and cobble stones. This is where we chose to enjoy our queues de castor, people watching...

Rhys Visits Montreal's Olympic Stadium

Our next excursion brought us way out towards Montreal's East end to the Olympic Stadium. Affectionately known as "The Big O" because of its shape, it was built for the Summer Olympics help here in Montreal in 1976. Unlike many Olympic stadiums built for past games, our stadium is still used daily. I, even in my day swam here at competitive swim meets, so this visit was a real treat for me as it's been a decade since I last competed. We had two parts to our visit. After spending what seemed like an extremely long time on the metro we made our way to get our tickets for the guided tour and a trip up the funicular to the top of the tower. The tours stop over the Winter, but lickily this was the first day they were back, so our tour guide confessed she was a little rusty but was grateful for a small tour group (made up of Rhys and me). After learning about the history of the stadium, we were brought into pool where there was a meet taking place, then we saw the main stadium, and then out to see the tower. There's something very eerie about an empty stadium, so echo-y. The tower was really interesting not only because it's very unique in a stadium, and not just because it wasn't finished in time for the Olympics, but also because of the roof's structure. The roof of the main stadium is made up of a weather proof fabric that is retracted by cables into the tower to make the stadium open-roof. This design has not been without its problems...like snow (which we get a bit of) making the roof cave in. As a result there have been several revamps upping the price of the roof. So in 1976, the QC government imposed a tobacco tax to help pay off the roof, which was happily fully payed off in 2006 (no that's not a typo).
After our tour we went up to the top of the tower to get a better view of the structure which gives the The Big O the 'O'. Though it was a rainy day, the views towards downtown and back towards Ile Ste. Helen were amazing, and I never tire of seeing places from high up! I think it gave Rhys a good perspective of the city, and the mountain. Plus I'd never been up the tower and considering I was born here, it was about time!

Rhys Likes Poutine!

How could Rhys come to Montreal and not enjoy one of our very own delicacies? However, this combination of deliciousness is a better experience knowing the provenance: Although there is no one written record stating that poutine was born "here" in the year "xxxx" there are several claims to its origins within Quebec. One such claim is that a man named Ferdinand Lachance from Warwick, QC said in 1957 "ça va faire une maudite poutine" ("it will make a damn mess"), and thus giving birth to the blessed poutine. Though some try to adulterate this sacred dish with meat, herbs, or different types of cheese/sauce, the classic remains the (and my) personal favourite. Poutine is made up three simple ingredients: fries (neither too thick nor thin), curd cheese (or "squeaky cheese"), and finally (usually) chicken gravy although pure "poutine sauce" can also be bought. Any variation on these three components and even though you will feel the spirit of the poutine, its true value cannot be appreciated. To give Rhys a full-on poutine experience was very important because (much like Richard Gere's explanation to Julia Roberts about a person's appreciation of opera in Pretty Woman) the first experience is crucial; a bad serving and you will never really enjoy poutine, however given a first rate serving and your love will be eternal. This was my aim with Rhys. A non-Montrealer's usual reaction to seeing this plated loveliness is 'disgust' displayed by a frightened, wrinkled up face, but I encouraged Rhys to have an open mind. The result couldn't have been better...Rhys is a convert and now makes poutine at home in Florida, as long as his packets of sauce don't run out.

...and there it is (on the right)

Rhys Visits the Redpath Museum

How could Rhys visit my home of Montreal and not see one of the places I have such fond memories of and now work at? The Redpath Museum is the oldest building in Canada built specifically as a museum. I used to have birthday parties there because I loved the dinosaur bones, and all the displays. Though not as large as London's Natural History Museum, the Redpath reflects Montreal's essence; culture in a compact space. I never tire of walking around the museum and looking at the exhibits, and I often do to rest my eyes and take breaks. While we were there I showed Rhys behind the scenes in the lab where I work, and also one of the rooms we keep the majority of the bones I'm working with. It's a bit different than when we worked together at Serco...

The Redpath in the somewhat-sunshine, with students warming themselves.

Me with some turtle and some hippo bones behind the scenes.

The view of the main entrance hall from the first set of stairs.

The main bone room with the Albertasaurus in pride of place.

Me taking a picture of a polar bear skull....

...and the skull!

This is the "physical anthropology" section of the museum...I see development potential here.

The bone room from the top floor.