When Peter and I were considering our move from the country to the city, we spent a lot of time trying to decide: condo or house?

Choosing a condo meant we were looking towards the future when we would want less maintenance, fewer stairs, and a simpler lifestyle. Choosing a small house instead meant we would be living in the present when we still have mobility and energy for planting a garden and hosting parties. (Choosing a house with a double garage also meat we could host parties during covid! But I digress..)

Now that we are settled into our small house, we do still have the energy for gardening and parties, but do we have enough for all the other maintenance? Hmmm… Peter started the ball rolling last week when he asked me: “Honey, did you, by any chance, plant flowers in the eaves troughs?” Apparently little shoots were poking up along the edge of the roof. Since we were planning a party for his relatives, this was an important question. He said the cousins might notice. It would be worse than dirty toilets, according to him.

So he got out the ladder, extended it to its full height, and began his climb. He asked me to stand by in case he needed anything, for example, could I sit on the bottom rung of the ladder to steady it in case he began to sway? Slowly he climbed up, holding a bucket for leaves in one hand, and using the other to climb, as the ladder wobbled under his weight. When he arrived at the troughs and began emptying them, a shower of debris, leaves and dirt missed the bucket and rained down on me. Apparently I should have had my umbrella with me! Fortunately I did have my phone, ready to call 911 in case the swaying got out of control or I got bumped on the head by the bucket.

After an entire afternoon of moving the ladder around the 4 sides of the house, Peter declared the eaves troughs clean enough for even the fussiest of relatives. The only thing left to do, he said, was… wash the windows! Well I was not anxious to do the ladder routine again, I can tell you. But Peter insisted that we aren’t too old to take this on, and I am more than anxious for an opportunity to show off my youth. Such vanity.

We were still debating about how to tackle this mammoth job, when a family member came to the rescue with a new product for us to try: an outdoor Windex product that attaches to the garden hose. Three steps – rinse, suds, and rinse again. No ladder required! And another great feature for a day of 30+ temperatures: we could wear our bathing suits and hose each other down too. I was so excited I could hardly sleep the night before. I woke up in the morning, grabbing only a quick coffee before heading to the nearest CTC. And there it was, in aisle 79 – the very last bottle of this miracle!

We easily got into our routine: Peter using the hose outside while standing on the ground, and me cleaning the windows on the inside, using only a chair. Easy peasy. Bird poop and mud splatts gone! Now I’d love to give you, dear readers, a dramatic ending: a window broke or we had a water fight, or some other exciting climax. But, aside from a couple of small leaks, there was nothing left except clean windows.

Now I m waiting with baited breath for Peter to announce our next home maintenance project. He’s sure to have another fun idea. As he thinks about it, here’s one: maybe we could paint the inside of the garage so we don’t have to put up those tacky plastic sheets the next time we have a party. Yikes! What am I saying? Surely the pandemic will be gone by the next holiday season. Won’t it?

Sue

Back in the olden days when our children were young, my running shoes were my biggest asset. It seemed that I was always chasing the kids. And now that they are grown up, it’s no different.

I have vivid nightmares of watching Jennifer or Jamie running out on the street after our dog Snoopy, as I chased after them, praying that no cars would come screeching around the corner. As they got older I chased them around the house in a more figurative sense, checking to see that they were doing their homework, and not just hiding in a corner talking on the phone to a friend. As they moved past their teens, I followed them in a van loaded with furniture and clothes as they settled in to whatever university town they had chosen.

Now that they are all grown up, have changed their names to Jen and James, and have families of their own, the chase has taken on a more long-term aspect. First of all Peter and I decided to move from our small village north of Toronto into the city, so that we could be closer to all the kids; Peter’s too. All 5 of our newly-blended families lived in the GTA and we were the envy of many friends whose children had moved to BC, Florida, and even Australia. We didn’t actually Admit we were moving to the city so we could be closer to them, but that was certainly part of our thinking.

Then Jen and her husband moved from Toronto to Orangeville. They joined Richard’s sister, and they loved the lower house prices. Hmmm… would we like to live in Orangeville? I looked at the website and discovered that Orangeville has a lot to offer. There are sweet little boutique stores, scenic hiking trails, and delightful restaurants. I even wrote an entire blog post about the carved trees on the main street (See April 13, 2021, Walking On Broadway). But moving there from a big city? Maybe not for us.

Next, James started talking about moving to Barrie. Great house prices there too. But battling snow storms on highway 400? Not a good way to spend the winter. Then he and his wife began hinting about moving to the Philippines, where Glenda’s family live. It’s a lot cheaper to live there than in Toronto, for sure. But an awful lot farther than Barrie. We tried not to think about it. Moving there as an option for us? Too hot!

Last February, Peter’s daughter Andrea and her family moved to New Zealand. (And we got Missy and Sissy the mice). They said it was only for a year, but Agnes has already let it slip that they may stay a few months longer. As for us moving there – it is a beautiful country which we visited a few years ago, but it’s miles and miles away from everybody else.

Then, a few weeks ago, Peter’s son Dan and his wife Jenny tossed us a bombshell. They would be moving to New York. This month. A great job offer and the thought of living in the most sophisticated city in the world was hard to turn down. So they have packed up. We will be storing some of their personal items, but fortunately they have no mice, and they are taking their dog with them. Would we move to NYC? With condo rentals more pricey than gold, probably not. Besides, there are immigration details to be worked out, a very lengthy process unless one is going for a specific job. But we could visit!

And I guess that’s the solution. Stay in one city, that we love, and keep our suitcases handy.

There is still one “child” who hasn’t declared any moving plans. Maybe we could suggest a place. How about England? We haven’t been there in quite a while…

Sue

Peter and I have travelled to many places in the world. But there are a lot of spots in Canada that we haven’t seen. During a pandemic, our own country seems like the perfect destination: safe and close.

So last week we hopped on a river boat in Kingston, stored our suitcases under the tiny beds in the tiny cabin, and began eating. Oops I mean travelling. It was very safe: everybody on board (29 passengers and about 12 crew) was vaccinated, we all had covid tests before boarding and temperature checks every morning. Everyone wore masks except on the outer decks and while eating, (which, come to think of it, was a Lot of the time!). Our suitcases were sprayed with disinfectant on the dock, the ship was cleaned constantly and the tables and chairs were well spread out.

Our journey took us up the St. Lawrence River to Montreal, and then North-west on the Ottawa River to the nation’s capitol. We made several stops along the way: at a boating museum, a pioneer village, a fur trade museum, a fort, and a wildlife park. Our sense of Canada as a country was validated.

The history of our people is one of trying to survive in a hostile climate of winter snow and summer bugs, wildfires and tornados. We stay in touch with nature because we are surrounded by it; bushes, trees, and entire forests are everywhere. We owe a lot to those scary grizzlies, annoying raccoons and other small animals that were the mainstay of the fur trade industry, and helped us build a thriving economy through trade with Europe.

We also owe a lot to those early settlers who built homes from logs that had to be cut down first, and who grew vegetables with no tools and no commercial fertilizer. They made bread by first milling their hone-grown wheat and then baking the loaves over an open fire. They created clothes from scratch, starting with killing the animals and then tanning their hides. There was no Home Depot, no Sobey’s and no Winners nearby.

Our trip confirmed that we are primarily a peace-loving country. Our one major war was back in 1812 when forts popped up along the waterways that separated us from our enemy at the time – the US. Families followed soldiers and often lived together in the forts as battles were won and sometimes lost. Kids had to sleep on the floor under their parents’ beds, with the rats scurrying around them. Our soldiers fought hard, using primitive defenses, and the loss of life was high.

We saw on this trip how much we all love being in and on the water. We navigated through 5 lift locks, one so big it held 15 power boats along with our ship, and one so narrow we could touch the sides as we went through. Before the locks were built, Indigenous people had to portage around all the rapids they found on the St. Lawrence and Ottawa rivers, which they used as highways for their dugout canoes.

Nowadays life is different for us Canadians. We buy up cottages on those same rivers as well as lakes, at exorbitant prices, so we can conveniently use our power boats, sail boats, canoes, kayaks and paddle boards. We visit bears safely enclosed behind barriers in the zoo. We shop at malls and super stores. And or biggest battle in the last 100 years has been against a virus. All it takes for us to win is to stick out an arm and get vaccinated. Seems like a small price to pay when we look back at the sacrifices made by our ancestors.

Sue

One of the big thrills for Canadians is eating outside. Maybe this is because we can do it so rarely, while we navigate through so much bad weather. Throw in a pandemic and, by June, Peter and I were desperate to eat outside on almost any patio we could find.

June 11th came along and, with it, the announcement about patio re-openings. We barely took time to put on our shoes and lock the door as we sprinted to our favourite neighbourhood patio. It’s tucked in behind a pub, has a tarp over the tables to keep out the rain, and a large-screen TV for watching sports. Plus it has great food! All the tables were filled quickly on that first re-opening day, and the large-screen TV was ignored as people shared their stories of being stuck inside all winter.

Then one night a week later I had a dream – we were sitting on a patio on Queen’s Quay at the Lake Ontario waterfront watching the boats go by. I woke up Peter early to tell him where we had to go. We waited all day and got to the waterfront just in time for dinner – along with the rest of Toronto. The patios were jammed and there were long line-ups everywhere. Imagine – everybody else had had the same dream! Finally we found a new spot – the concert area had morphed into a beer place with limited entrees such as pizza and fries. It would have to do. And the lake view was a dream come true.

Next it was time to meet my brother and my cousin for lunch. One family lives in the Niagara area and the other lives in Port Dover, so we looked for a patio that was equal distance for everyone. We came up with a patio on Lake Ontario just over the Burlington Skyway. It was busy too so we went early and scored the prize – one of only 2 tables for 6.

I was on such a patio high after this that I called a friend who is always up for an adventure, and I suggested Casa Loma. This is a patio that Peter and I tried out last summer. The gardens were spectacular and the food was gourmet. I got a reservation for my friend and myself for last Tuesday night, although I had to leave a credit card number to hold the table. This was high stakes but we were both really excited and discussed what we would wear – something new, maybe even hats!

On the day before, we checked the weather and the forecast was for 30% chance of rain. We had a chat and decided to take a chance. But by Tuesday morning the forecast had changed to 60% chance of rain with possible thunder and lightning. We could picture our gourmet meals getting rained on and our new hats soaked as we wandered through the muddy gardens, hoping lightning wouldn’t strike a nearby tree. Finally, after a lot of waffling, we decided to cancel.

I went online and located our reservation. Up popped a message: “If you cancel this reservation with less than 24 hours’ notice, there will be a charge of $40 per person.” The other option, the message said, was to go to the patio, sit at our table and order the food, get rained on while we waited, then pay our bill and take the food home to eat. That didn’t sound like an appetizing option either! So should we pay $80 and get nothing, or go anyway and risk being hit by lightning? (Well maybe I am being a bit dramatic…)

What did we do? We did nothing! And soon enough the rain, thunder, and lightning started. Along came a message from the restaurant: “We notice you were a no-show for your reservation. Write your explanation below in 50 words or less.” I felt like I was back in elementary school, writing out my sins on the blackboard. But I did it, and I tried not to be too sarcastic about the lightning.

Well I’m pleased to announce that, instead of a detention, I got a pardon! The search for new patios continues. If you have a favourite outdoor spot for lunch or dinner, share it with our readers.

Sue

No, we didn’t sneak off to Barbados, or even Cuba. Now that Peter and I are fully vaccinated and the Covid numbers are dwindling in Toronto, we are back to exploring our city. No need for us to travel any distance to find an adventure.

Our jaunt last Friday was to the Toronto Islands. We realized that neither of us had been there for several years. Peter remembers taking his kids to Centreville for the rides and the junk food when thy were little. I remember taking an adult ESL class there when it was raining. And raining, and raining. We all went home soaked. That was a field trip nobody will ever forget, especially the ones who got pneumonia. (Only joking!).

Our commute was easy: GO train for $1.97, Island Ferry return trip for $5.50, enough money left over for a gourmet lunch. The ferry ride gave us a glimpse of the day to come: families with little kids, grandparents, young couples, strollers, bikes and lots of dogs. The crowd easily dispersed once we had landed. Peter and I followed the biggest group, bypassing Centreville and finding ourselves at the fountain with its beautiful gardens. There were lots of colourful blooms, all except the hedges which were a dull brown. The gardener explained that boxwood moths had eaten all the leaves. Apparently they couldn’t find any concession stands open. Or maybe it’s another sign of climate change.

Next, we decided to follow the path towards Hanlan’s Point, where Peter knew there was a clothing-optional beach. On our way we saw signs of one of Toronto’s climate change initiatives; Deep Lake Water Cooling. This is an idea of Mayor David Miller – for cooling large office buildings and condos; so successful that it is being expanded on the Island. Further along near the beach we saw another environmental project: Sand Dune Restoration.

We also discovered some history. The original lighthouse on the island, built in 1808, is the oldest surviving lighthouse on the Great Lakes. The early lighthouse keepers formed the nucleus of the first Island community. In 1945 the light was changed from white to green, to distinguish it from the lights of the city skyline.

Heading further along the path, we kept searching for Hanlan’s Point. It was a long way and I started salivating over the people who passed us, riding those 2-seater bikes. It seemed to me that the wife could easily avoid pedaling while making small talk to distract the husband.

Then Peter spotted the sign for the clothing-optional beach and it was all I could do to hold him back. I wasn’t sure whether he wanted to take his clothes off, or just enjoy the view. Luckily, there was a small concession stand nearby and the food was enough distraction to get him back on the right path, so to speak. We had our gourmet lunch – beer and hot dogs – all by ourselves on the patio.

Eventually we got to Hanlan’s Point and found the statue of Ned Hanlan, Canada’ s most famous rower. Hanlan’s family lived on the Island and he made the news when, at age 5, he rowed all the way to the mainland by himself. Over his lifetime, Hanlan won enough competitions, including World Championship in 1880, to fill an entire monument. Hanlan was also a Toronto alderman in 1898 and 1899.

In the background, we suddenly noticed the CN Tower and the Skydome. It was time to catch the Hanlan’s Point Ferry back to the 21st Century. But we have made plans to return. Next time we’re going to rent one of those 2-seater bikes and ride to the other side of the Islands. Peter will be too busy pedaling to worry about the clothing-optional beach.

Sue

Besides Peter and I (and the pet mice), we share our home, or at least our garage, with 2 vehicles. One is just a car, but the other one is Ruby.

Ruby and I have been together for almost 4 years now. I bought her for my 70th birthday. I didn’t really Need a new car – I just felt I deserved it for being so old! Ruby came in a bright red package, decorated with lots of bells and whistles. It was love at first sight.

Ruby fills all of my car needs – she’s perky, cheap on gas, and reliable. Best of all, she’s safe to drive. Whenever I try to change lanes, she buzzes at me: “Check your blind spot!” When I back up, she signals with a loud beep: “Watch out for those kids walking by!” Apparently, if I get too close to the car in front, the brakes will automatically be applied. This is a feature that I am still too nervous to try out.

Soon after I got Ruby, Peter and I moved from the country to the city and Ruby moved into or spacious two-car garage, along with Peter’s car. She seemed quite content there. When the pandemic arrived, Peter said we really didn’t need 2 cars since we wouldn’t be going anywhere. He wanted to take the insurance off one car. I started crying, “NO! Don’t take my Ruby away!” So he took the insurance off his car instead.

This meant of course that, whenever we went anywhere for the past 18 months, Peter wanted to drive Ruby himself. Who could blame him, really? His car is a boring white SUV with a few scratches on the outside, and a lot of old golf balls and expired Swiss Chalet coupons on the inside. Ruby, on the other hand, is bright, shiny and vacuumed.

Over the past 18 months, Peter and Ruby have gotten to know one another pretty well. He slips into the driver’s seat just like he belongs there. Ruby, however, knows that she will be working overtime. He starts the engine and the beeps and buzzes begin. He backs up and she beeps; he changes lanes and she buzzes. Then he gets mad and tells her to “Shut Up, for heavens sake!” I tell him to be quiet or he will hurt her feelings.

But there is one thing about Ruby that even Peter loves – when we go to a big box store with a huge parking lot. We gather up our reusable bags and head inside, ignoring our parking location as we think about the list of things we want to buy. When we finish our shopping, we stand at the store exit and utter that time-worn question: “Where did we park the car?” After a brief scan around the parking lot, there she is – all red and glowing. So easy to spot in amongst all those boring white SUV’s.

Now that the pandemic is slowing down, Peter has decided he has had enough of Ruby’s beeps and buzzes. He has called the insurance company and I have Ruby all to myself once again.

But I have realized that there is something I need more. It’s something that our city and our world needs more too. During these days, when the climate change crisis is shouting at us from every wildfire, every super storm, and every tornado, we need to give up our cars and get on the subway. So yesterday I found my Presto card. Sorry Ruby, you may be beautiful, but on some fronts you can’t compete with the Red Rocket.

Sue

Last week our family left the city and went on our annual cottage vacation week – 9 adults, 2 kids, and 3 dogs, all in one building. And rain every day. Did we survive? Read on…

We began this tradition back in 2012 when we rented a fairly large cottage in Bala and divided the family up into 2 groups – my kids, and Peter’s kids – each group getting 3 1/2 days of the week. We continued this arrangement for the next 2 years, in Orillia and Penetang.

Then everybody complained! They said they wanted more than half a week, and they wanted to be together! I spent a lot of time on the internet that winter, trying to find a large cottage, but it was really difficult.

So I ended up finding a family “resort” near Algonquin Park, with tiny cabins for each family. We spent time together on the beach, we ate outside on our picnic tables all pulled together, and we went hiking in the park. For the next few years we had the same arrangement, in different parts of Ontario: the Kawarthas, Southampton, and Gravenhurst.

Then last year Peter’s son Daniel and his wife Jenny bought their own cottage and invited us to take a look. We went for the inspection and discovered – not just a cottage – it was a compound! The main floor of this “cottage” has 4 bedrooms and a bath, along with a large kitchen, and living-dining room. Downstairs are 2 more bedrooms and another bathroom. And outside – a bunkie with a third bathroom. We were gobsmacked! After we had stopped staring, Dan and Jenny suggested that this could become the family cottage week location. We said yes – how could this not be perfect?

Well life gets in the way, and over the past year we all coped with Covid 19, one family left for a year in New Zealand, and one of the 2 cottage fridges died. Then, in true Covid fashion, 2 of the families got new dogs, well 2 frisky young puppies, to be exact. Our cottage week was looking iffy…But we were determined. All the adults got vaccinated, we spread the guests out so that everyone had access to a bathroom, we agreed to do some of the grocery shopping in nearby towns so the fridge could handle the load, and two of the dogs met ahead of time in a park – a kind of meet-and-greet event.

As our vacation approached, we checked the weather. Another challenge – rain forecast for the entire week. Could we manage being inside all together for 7 days of rain? We bought more junk food, packed more board games, and set off.

Now I know you are waiting for the exciting finish to this story: the adults all ran away and left the kids and dogs together to fight it out. But I’m sorry to tell you that’s not what happened! Instead, the rain was only intermittent with some sunny breaks, the food in the fridge all got organized and eaten, and the bathroom traffic jams were minimal, especially when the guys figured out that there was a big forest nearby. As for the dogs, they learned to live together too and only nipped at each other occasionally.

But the best part was being together! During the sunny breaks we would all rush to the lake to swim or lie on the huge party raft. During the rain we would all gather around the kitchen island while the cooks made mojitos or margaritas. Sometimes a board game would appear on the dining room table and the contest was on. Or the karaoke machine would be set up and the girls would belt out Abba songs. A couple of times we facetimed with the family in New Zealand. In the evenings we would sit on the massive sectional sofa, yell at everyone to turn off their devices so we could get a strong wifi signal, and then watch a family movie together; sharing a huge bag of COSTCO popcorn.

And, before we knew it, it was Saturday again. The fridge was empty, the junk food was all gone, and the dogs were friendly. But best of all? Dan and Jenny invited us back again for next year.

Sue

Have you ever in your life seen people so eager, so anxious, so desperate – to get a needle?

Think back to last spring when the news was so depressing, and the scientists were so doubtful that a vaccine for Covid 19 could be created in less than a year. And then it would take another several months to set up vaccine centres and distribute the drugs. When the first vaccine was finally available, we learned that it needed freezers with capacties of minus 25 degrees and the drug was only good for 2 weeks before it would expire. The task of vaccinating 35 million people seemed overwhelming.

Finally, in the beginning of the new year, the news was more positive. Then March came around and those over 80 were able to book appointments. Peter began to salivate because he is now 75 and would be in the second group. Finally he got an appointment – for March 27. But poor me, I am only 74. For the first time ever, I wanted to be older! I had to wait an extra week to get my first shot.

For our second shot we were more optimistic. We knew the ropes. Since the age group this time was 70-80, we were able to book our appointments together. And the options were greater – not only mass clinics, but also pharmacies and pop-up clinics. We looked over our options and decided to book at the same mass-vaccination clinic where we had gone in March.

I woke up early on the booking day, got my coffee, and settled down in front of the computer to wait until exactly 8:00 a.m. when the booking site would open. I set the page up, answering all the questions about health card number, symptoms, postal code etc. I waited, my finger poised over the “book an appointment” button. At exactly 8:00 I pushed the button.

The screen message read: “Thank you for booking a vaccine appointment. You are number 11,652 in line.” WHAT? How could this be? How could 11,651 other people have been ahead of me at exactly 8:00? I started to bite my finger nails. At 8:04 I got on the site and every appointment for the next 2 weeks was taken. I finally found 2 appointments for June 20. We would have to stay safe for 2 extra weeks.

But then we kept hearing that friends had found other options: one couple got a jab on the very same day at a pop-up clinic. Another couple got an appointment at a pharmacy for the next day. Other people found other creative ways to navigate the system. We needed to expand our search field. We decided to investigate a tiny drug store, hidden in the basement of of our doctor’s building.

Success! In only a couple of days we would get to roll up our sleeves. We were ecstatic. On the big day we woke up early and waited. The drug store was only a short walk from our house but we had been warned not to arrive early. Finally it was time to go. When we arrived, the place was empty; no line-up, no more waiting. Just get our shot and done. We walked home by way of Cloud Nine.

As we wait for our immunity to build up, we sit back and wonder if it is really true. Is the Covid 19 vaccine actually showing down? And is Canada really the number one country for people with first shots? With Canada Day coming up, we have another reason to celebrate our great country.

Sue

PS. I am going to celebrate Canada Day for an entire week. I will be offline next Tuesday.

When Peter and I first moved to the city we were delighted to live close to the subway. A 15-minute walk through a park and under a bridge, and we were there. We were so excited to be driven by somebody else, we hardly noticed the paintings on the bridge supports.

One day recently the artist was on TV. He is actually quite famous for his murals – walls filled with eye-catching Indigenous art, painted all over the city of Toronto. Since our Indigenous people are very much in the news right now, we decided to take a closer look.

Philip Cote, a graduate of OCAD with an MFA degree, recalls being subjected to anti-racist treatment growing up. He reasoned that maybe it was because his culture was ignored; his people misunderstood. He decided to do something about it, by painting murals which could teach Torontonians about his history. This history is based on a strong belief that mankind must live in harmony with nature. Do the words “climate change” come to mind?

Our first stop was a mural at a railway underpass in south Etobicoke, aptly named the Underpass Mural, 2018.This is one of Cote’s efforts that was painted with a partner, Nick Sweetman. It celebrates the plants and animals that live along the shoreline of Lake Ontario. The two artists painted fish, turtles birds, even adorable blue seals, (although I don’t know anybody who has actually seen a blue seal in the lake). Staring at these colourful creatures, one can’t help but love them.

Next, we visited a mural on Roncesvalles Ave, also painted with another colleague in 2018, to celebrate Roncesvalles Village. This painting depicts the shared values of the first nations who settled in this area thousands of years ago, and who believed their role was stewardship of the land for future generations. Surrounding the name of the village, one can see nature’s rich variety of fish, birds, plants and animals that form healthy ecosystems.

Then we drove to Spadina and Dupont to see The Indigenous History Of Our Land, 2017. Symbols of first nations culture are illustrated here. Medicines – tobacco, cedar, sage, and sweetgrass – can be seen. The moccasin and the canoe reflect the thousands of miles the original settlers travelled to find the land that is now Toronto. Important animals are depicted as well: the eagle soars, coming close to the spirit world; the beaver is a symbol of progress as a builder of dams and the focus of the fur trade industry.

Finally we went back to the subway to take a closer look. The vibrant series of images painted in 2017 is called: Resurge – First Timeline and show some history in more detail. The image that caught my eye illustrates a man and a woman enfolded in the arms of a great Thunderbird, a powerful native symbol representing the bond between heaven and earth.

When thinking about the various first nations groups that settled here – the Anishinaabe, the Wendat, the Mississauga, and the Haudenosaunee – one can’t help feeling that they were on to something. They managed to thrive in a harsh climate for over 130,000 years before the Europeans arrived. This is an impressive record, one that is worth celebrating. One that is worth repeating.

Sue

During these times of social isolation, we have all figured out how to celebrate milestones in unusual ways. We have shown our ingenuity over and over again.

Think back to all the grand events I have written about during the last 15 months: my brother’s 70th birthday where I had to find a washroom in the woods and got prickles in my undies, our Christmas group of friends who celebrated in a park while wearing our coats and drinking wine out of our water bottles, or – the most civilized of all – the parties in our garage decorated with those elegant plastic sheets. These are unforgettable highlights of our pandemic social lives.

So, when I got an invitation to a drive-by baby shower, I was not surprised. Although it did sound a little like a Mafia drive-by event, I was pretty sure none of the other guests would be toting guns.

This poor young couple has had a rough go of things. They have had to postpone their wedding 3 times: first of all in April 2020 when the pandemic was just getting started, then in October 2020 when the second wave was ramping up, and again this past spring when the third wave was upon us. Finally they gave up and had the church part of the wedding; in a large church with only about 50 guests spread far apart. No handshakes or hugs, not even any small talk afterwards. Just a few “I do’s” and they were done. Then a baby was announced and the drive-by shower was arranged.

First of all, I had to figure out what to wear. Never mind that my dress-up clothes are out of date; they are also dusty! And my dress-up shoes? My feet screamed in pain when I tried to put them on. I could hear them yelling “We want those comfy sneakers back!” And definitely no open-toed model – I haven’t had a pedicure in months.

Then Peter said that he wanted to go to the shower too. After all, it was his nephew’s baby and besides, there were no rules for a drive-by shower that we knew of. He even offered to exchange his holey gardening pants for something respectable. Now his hair – that was a different story. Both of us desperately need hair-cuts but, if John Tory can appear on TV with his new hairstyle, then we could probably go to a baby shower with ours.

The shower venue was the host’s driveway. When we arrived, there were cars parked on the street and guests had escaped their vehicles to drop off their gifts. People were socially distanced on the driveway and the street, enjoying a cool drink and some longed-for conversation. The kids were chasing each other on the grass near the curb. And the host had morphed into a traffic cop!

But the best were the dogs. Since the invitation had said nothing about dogs, people decided to bring theirs along. I counted at least 5 breeds, from tiny purse dogs to big guard dogs. They cavorted around, smelling each other, until the 2 big ones fell in love and spent the rest of the time nuzzling together. Was this appropriate behaviour for a pandemic baby shower? Who knows??

I did miss all the typical baby shower games like Name The Baby and quizzes with questions such as “Which parent will get up in the night to change the diapers?” But it was just so lovely to see faces of friends and family that have been missing from our lives for 15 months. No hugs yet, but it felt like one step closer to normalcy. And some day soon the new baby will be listening to all the stories of her pandemic baby shower.

Sue

Dogs in love: