The Beamer

Still, every once in a while, I'll be hit by profound sadness about the Beamer's disability. This weekend it happens as we're doing our usual walk along the retail street in our neighbourhood. The Hubby always asks "Where to?" but he doesn't have to because he knows. It's always to the other end. To the Starbucks. If the Hubby and I are doing the walk by ourselves it takes about 15 minutes each way. But when we go with the Beamer it's an outing. The Beamer walks part of the way. He doesn't quite understand the point of going in one direction, in a straight line. There are so many interesting things and people to see off to each side and even behind. Many of the store windows have his nose print on it.

On this day, the street fair has brought out all the young families. Strollers and toddlers in abundance. Cute little kids with painted faces, eating ice cream, marveling at balloon creations. Some of the kids stare at the Beamer. They know he is one of them, but not one of them. I cast my love protectively around him. I know it's irrational and completely misplaced but I feel resentment at all the happy looking families with their beautiful perfect looking children. The Hubby and I are pushing our stroller too. But instead of a perfect toddler we are pushing our beautiful imperfect 12 year old. I turn down the offer of a balloon. What's the point? The Beamer would not even notice it. We rush by face painting. The Beamer would never sit still for its application. A freezie is declined. The Beamer would not know what to do with it.

Then, almost to the Starbucks, a woman who I have never seen before speaks to me. She is compelled to tell me that she often notices the Beamer when he's on one of our walks because he always gives her the most amazing smile. I thank her. And I feel a little better. Then I remember at the beginning of our walk that a man had passed us, and as he did he turned to look at me and gave me a very familiar smile. I asked the Hubby "Who was that?" The Hubby had no idea. A little while later, a woman with a little dog came out of a store as we were passing and she also gave me a huge smile. The Hubby asked "Who was that?" I had no idea. This happens regularly when we walk with the Beamer. People we don't know, know the Beamer. The Beamer smiles at them. They smile at the Beamer. Then they smile at us. And I smile to myself.

Sibling love

The Pizza of Summer

In the garden

I'm exhausted trying to appreciate summer. Summer is usually almost gone before I've realized that it's finally here. The date this realization hits me varies from year to year but it always hits me at some point.This year it happened 3 days ago.

Fruits of summer

I wait all year for summer. I love summer. I love warm steamy nights, eating outside, iced drinks, and Ontario produce. I love the sound of flip flops and screen doors at cottages. I love sunglasses and sunscreen.

I'm committed to summer being fully appreciated.

But full appreciation takes a lot of work.

Me and the Daughter dining outside

This feeling first hits me on Thursday. That night, we go out to dinner and sit on a restaurant patio. I am happy.















Friday dawns hot and bright. I decide to be spontaneous and invite friends for dinner that night AND the next. I must be suffering from heat stroke! In my mind's eye is the beer commercial fantasy of a summer barbeque with laughing beautiful people. That's what I'm aiming for. Never mind that on this particular day in Toronto a heat record of 37C is set. It's smoking hot! Friday night I make everyone stay outside all evening. They keep glancing wistfully at the house where it is nice and cool inside. Suck it up people! What's a little sweat running down our backs? What's a few mosquito bites? It's going to be winter soon!

Chocolate Chip Cookies

Saturday morning we wake up ridiculously early but I'm happy to so we can do a 60 km cycle before the heat sets in. Waking up this early on a weekend is something I would only consider doing in the summer. But of course things never usually go exactly as planned. Literally the exact moment the Hubby's foot passes over the door frame there is a crack of thunder. The Hubby takes a second step toward the beautiful summer morning waiting to be enjoyed. Another crack of thunder. Then a downpour. Seriously?! We end up at a spin class, indoors, where the sun don't shine.    

The Hubby, Mary, and Mike creating pizza

Saturday night The Vegetarian (Mary) and Mike come over. I discover that as a general rule vegetarian food is not barbeque-able. I decide to make pizzas.

Toppings for the pizza

The barbeque is out of gas and the Hubby doesn't think the pizza stone will fit in it anyway. So it's pizza made inside in the oven. The pizza stone must preheat in the oven for one hour at 550F. This is almost as bad as me wearing a sweater and having my heater on in my office during the heat wave. I buy pre-made dough. I feel authentic as I hand form it into the pizza shell. Olive oil is drizzled on the shell. Then we add combinations of Robiola, fresh mozzarella, parmesan, sliced garlic, sliced red onion, fresh arugula, basil, and oregano, and prosciutto (for the meat eaters). Sprinkle with sea salt.

The finished pie

Under the broiler for about 8 minutes and it's done. The pie is gorgeous.

Ontario berries, ice cream and Chocolate Chip Cookies for dessert. The Hubby is unduly impressed that I can create chocolate chip cookies, just like that, in the time it takes him to get a couple of forgotten items at the store.

It's the end of the weekend. Thank goodness! I'm exhausted. The Hubby complains that my pile of unread magazines is getting higher and higher and threatens to qualify me for hoarder status. I don't have time to read, I'm too busy trying to eat outside!

I have successfully maximized summer this weekend. I am appreciative. 

The Zen of Cottaging

Eileen and Chris have invited us to their cottage for the Canada Day weekend. I am so there! I should be a cottager. I embrace the cottage lifestyle. Except for the work part. But the relaxation part I totally embrace. It starts with the necessary stress of packing up and leaving the city and thinking is it really worth it? But by the time the congested city highways have turned into dusty cottage roads the answer becomes clearer. A stop for ice cream cones and I can't remember what all the fuss was about.

Moose Tracks - vanilla ice cream with a fudge ribbon and mini peanut butter cups!

Eileen and I met at university and so have been friends for a very long time. For many of those years, Eileen lived in faraway places like Atlanta, Georgia and Singapore due to her first husband's job. But now she's back in Toronto and we have been able to establish a more regular contact.

When the Hubby and I arrive at the cottage she and Chris have already been there for a couple of days and are chilled. The difference in our energy is palpable. They are languid. We in comparison are static electricity. But just a bit of time looking at the lake sparkling in the afternoon sun and we`re languid too!

The view from Eileen and Chris's cottage deck

Even though I don`t have a cottage, I have managed to compile my own repertoire of favourite cottage activities. First on the list is morning coffee on the deck. The coffee must be strong and hot and the perfect colour. This can only happen with cream. Milk, particularly skim milk, just turns coffee into a horrible shade of grey/brown, totally unsuitable. The air is not yet hot as you know it`s going to become so you sit in the morning sun soaking it and the view in.

Morning coffee

Ideally someone is inside the cottage making you an amazing breakfast. On this morning, Eileen and Chris are making us Oat Pancakes with Ontario berries and maple syrup, scrambled eggs and bacon. The perfect start to the cottage day.

Laura holding the milk bag on which the recipe for Oat Pancakes is found

A leisurely boat cruise around the gorgeous lake has us fantasizing about which cottage should be ours. Reading on the deck or dock is also on the cottage to do list. As usual I bring up way too many magazines but I'm ever hopeful.

Me and Eileen on the boat

Dinner is made on a charcoal grill. Gas barbeques are fast and convenient for the city but at the cottage there's time for the charcoal ritual. Dinner is shish kebabs and a cucumber salad with yogurt and fresh mint from the garden.

Chris and Eileen

Eileen and Chris have pampered us by providing all the meals. In turn, the Hubby and I happily do the dishes. Well, first the Hubby attempts to bribe Laura, Eileen's daughter, to do them for him. But when that is ultimately unsuccessful he then happily does them too. Dusk at the cottage is the best time of day. Loons call and make me remember my mother and how she loved the sound. Mosquitoes buzz and I add "screened in porch" to the must-have list of my imaginary cottage. Momentary stress occurs when the Daughter, who is home looking after the Beamer for the night, calls in distress that he won't fall asleep. Visions of us driving the 2 1/2 hrs home in the middle of the night pass silently through both of our heads. But thankfully she manages to settle him and we marvel once again at the competent and self possessed young woman the Daughter has become. After dinner Laura watches Lars and the Real Girl and I am faced with a conflict of choice. Lars and the Real Girl is my favourite movie of all time! But the pull of euchre is stronger. I choose the Hubby as my partner. When he's the opposition he annoys me to no end. But when we're on the same team I am happy to let him annoy others while I maintain my cottage serenity. Eileen and I must endure as each play is analyzed and debriefed. Manly verbal jousting occurs. Eileen and I just roll our eyes. And eat chips.

Euchre playing

Before we know it, it's time to go home. Many thanks to Eileen and Chris for sharing their cottage paradise with us. A fitting way to celebrate Canada Day!

Comings and Goings

The Adolescent

As much as the Adolescent's antics give me grief, I am surprisingly sad that he has just gone off to camp for the summer. He is a junior counselor at the camp where he has been a camper for many years. I'm not going to see him until the end of August! I really can't believe I'm feeling this but I miss him! To make myself feel better I try and remember all the aggravation he's caused me this year. But even that doesn't make me miss him less!

Blueberry Pancakes

I make him Blueberry Pancakes on the morning of his departure. So he'll remember why he should come home.

Brothers enjoying a goodbye hug

Although it doesn't look it from this face, the Beamer is really going to miss his brother too!
 

Even the Hubby is feeling sentimental!

The Adolescent has been thinking a lot these past few months about what he would like to do for his future career. It's come down to two things of equal interest. He wants to be an astrophysicist. And he wants to be rich. Seriously?! What the heck does an astrophysicist do anyway? And hasn't he been listening when I tell him that to be Rich in LOVE is what he should be striving for in life?! I suggest he get some books to read during downtime at camp. I'm thinking Hunger Games or something of that nature. He packs A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking, Cosmos by Carl Sagan, Elegant Universe by Brian Greene. Who is this boy?!

The Daughter, Claire, Charlotte, me

Charlotte and Claire have come from France for a visit. Charlotte lived with us for 3 months in 2006. Now she has come for her first visit back and has brought her younger sister Claire. Claire has never been on an airplane before! She eats corn on the cob for the first time! Their visit highlights yet again how little I cook. I vow to not let them leave this country again with a skewed view of how Canadians cook and eat.

Glass Noodle Salad with Edamame

Amidst all these comings and goings I have the strange and untimely urge to make a feast for Father's Day a couple of weeks back.

Asparagus Mimosa with capers and hard boiled egg

I make three dishes I've never tried before from the vegetarian cookbook Plenty by Yotam Ottolenghi.

Four Fathers - The Hubby, my Dad, Brian, and Richard

Lots of cooking and lots of eating leads to lots of cleaning up. Unbelievably, the dishwasher breaks. The groaning and complaining from the children when they realize they might have to wash a dish reminds me of yet another way I've failed as a parent. The only weapon left in the Kitchen Mess arsenal is the Hubby...but it's FATHER'S DAY! I struggle with a dilemma of conscience...

Did he or didn't he have to wash dishes on Father's Day???

The only outcome that you need to know is that THIS weekend we use paper plates and disposable glasses. I feel guilty about the waste but apparently my conscience can only deal with so much.
 

The family welcomes Charlotte and Claire

For Charlotte and Claire's dinner with my family I make Hamburgers. I read an article that the secret to the best burger ever is the ratio of meat to fat which should be 80% meat to 20% fat. The ground beef I get is 85/15 and it is excellent. Another thing I learn is that a great burger doesn't need any seasoning other than salt and pepper. No onion, no worcestershire sauce, no egg or breadcrumbs. Just some really great condiments and a good bun. The burgers are delicious and relieve my guilt just a bit!

The Comings are always something to anticipate and enjoy. But dealing with the Goings has never been my strength. I will likely get used to having the Adolescent away for the summer. I will likely learn to enjoy the peace and quiet that is only possible in a home without an Adolescent in it. I will in time find another motivation for baking. But until then, I will savour the unfamiliar feeling of missing the Adolescent.

Stories from the Road

The Hubby is quite proud of his special black Ride to Conquer Cancer jersey. While the majority of the 4800 riders in last weekend's event toil along in our regular yellow Ride jerseys, the Hubby dons his black one with "Ambassador" written down one side, happy in the knowledge that he has special ambassadorial qualities.

At the starting gate: Amanda, Beatrice, Barb, Sabina, the Hubby

I have no ill will toward this gross miscarriage of justice because he certainly earned the honour. He did organize the design and making of our team's uniform. Helen actually designed it but the Hubby did organize it all.

The night before the Ride: looking up to the Hubby, just the way he likes it!

 
And he did lead all of our team's training rides. Well, it's probably more accurate to say that he rode ahead of everyone else on our training rides. No need to wait for the team. That's why GPS was invented! Comes in handy when your captain yells "I'll meet you in Streetsville...! Just another 30kms that-a-way...!".

And how exactly did the Hubby think that the team knew where and when to meet for the weekly training rides given that he never actually informed them?! It must be his ability to telepathically communicate that makes him so darned special. And the tips! I emptied my brain to the team of all the knowledge I had from my experience last year! But the Hubby had not one tip to share because he's never done the Ride before! Not that you'd know it looking at his special black Ambassador jersey! But I'm not bitter.

Sabina and me

It was an inspiring sight as we rode west from Toronto to see the road turn into an undulating ribbon of yellow (and one black) jerseys. Good spirits and a sense of camaraderie prevailed as we pedaled our way up seemingly endless hills, through pouring rain, and past hundreds of cheering well wishers lining the route. Two cyclists lighting up and smoking cigarettes while riding baffles with its disrespect. A woman labouring up a hill behind Sabina literally wailing "I CAN DO THIS!" is annoying but inspiring at the same time. One survivor pedals the entire 200km with one leg on a modified bike. The oldest rider at 84 is blind so rides a tandem bike with his cardiologist because he has heart problems too! Sabina, a first-timer and one of the slower riders on our team during training, surprises me at every pit stop as she keeps pace.

Our Team

In the end, the Daughter is unable to do the Ride after falling off her bike and fracturing her elbow. The Boyfriend pinch hits for her and joins the Ride without any training. But because he's young and naturally in good shape as only the young can be, he easily finishes the Ride more than 2 hours before us. Very impressive. And annoying. All at the same time.

The Daughter and the Boyfriend

The Hubby is a machine. Powering up hills with barely a downshift. Barreling through all 200 kilometers hardly out of breath. He can ride circles around me. But he doesn't. I know without a doubt that even though he's far far ahead and out of sight that at one point soon he will appear, either slowly pedaling so I can catch up or waiting for me at the side of the road. So sweet. So Hubby-like. Okay...fine....so Ambassadorial! (I gagged a little writing that).

Jon, Sabina, the Boyfriend, me, the Hubby, Joe, Helen, Matthew, Colin: at the finish line in Toronto

It's always so sweet at the finish. Smiling familiar faces cheering us in. My dad and Sinikka are there. So are my sister and brother-in-law and Scarlett. Relief to be off the butt, on the ground, out of the shoes, helmet-free. 

My niece and most excellent cheerleader Scarlett

The Hubby, the Daughter, the Adolescent, the Beamer and I go out to dinner that night at our favourite neighbourhood restaurant. We sit outside on the patio enjoying the warm evening, feeling tired but accomplished. As the meal is ending our waiter tells us that our entire meal has been paid for by an anonymous stranger in a random act of kindness. Very disorienting at first. But then just really so much appreciated. A wonderful ending to a very meaningful weekend.

Pain in the Butt

I've been trying to write this post for weeks. I write a would-be post but when I go to review it a day or two later it just doesn't meet with my own approval. I re-read what I had spent an hour writing and I practically fall asleep mid sentence as it's so ho hum! For the last year and a half I've rarely had any difficulty coming up with a weekly post. It just seemed that my brain was full of thoughts and observations and proclamations. It was simply a matter of harnessing all this brain activity into a coherent theme. But for the past few weeks I appear to be thought-less! This has started to worry me. I think all my creative energy has become misdirected to my Butt.

Maureen punching the Hubby! Even THIS did not inspire a blog post!

The Hubby and I have been training for the Ride to Conquer Cancer - a 200 km cycle over 2 days next weekend to raise money for cancer research. I'm not worried about my heart or legs going the distance. But my Butt is what needs the training! To build up my Butt's endurance, we have been riding increasingly longer distances over the past few months. We use whatever external Butt supports we can. We have padded shorts, ergonomic bike seats, and most precious of all we have Butt Butter! The problem with all this training is that it takes a lot of time and there's not a lot of energy left for much else. I think my Butt has annexed all my creativity!

Paul, Matt, and Geoff are smiling because their Butts are NOT sore...or maybe it's because of the martinis...?!

Looking back on the past month I have surprised even myself by the fact that in the midst of all this attention to my Butt I actually did some time in the kitchen. I am amazing. So here's the best I can do for you today: the month in pictures...

Dinner on the back patio with Cathy and Jon

One of the Daughter's favourite meals is hamburgers. In sympathy of the fractured elbow she got from falling off her bike, we have a BBQ one Sunday evening. They are delicious!

Burgers topped with grilled onion, salsa and guacamole

I fell off my bike in April. While the massage therapist is working on my sore shoulder, she chats to me about her baking exploits. She raves about the Momofuku Milk Bar cookbook. It's a very fun read and inspires me to make Cornflake-Chocolate-Chip-Marshmallow Cookies which are crisp but chewy and salty and sweet...

From Momofuku Milk Bar cookbook

...and Chocolate Chip Layer Cake that is made up of chocolate chip vanilla cake, passion fruit curd, chocolate crumbs, and coffee frosting. This is a gorgeous creation and so deserves more than just a passing mention here. But even THIS did not inspire words of worth! That's how bad it is!

Awesome

The Boyfriend too falls off HIS bike (wait...maybe there's a THEME here...?!).

The Boyfriend's leg...the Daughter's arm!

He gets Strawberry Rhubarb Cobbler...

I also made a rhubarb coffee cake but I am so far gone I didn't even take its picture!

I make this Chocolate Mocha Ice Cream Cake...

Chocolate and coffee ice cream on a chocolate wafer crust

...for a dinner in Colin and Sarah's backyard to celebrate one of the first warm spring evenings.

Our hosts Sarah and Colin along with Jon

So that's it. This is what you've been waiting for all these weeks. No pithy comment to end. No bon mots to tide you over until next time. Blame the Butt.

Doing Nothing

The Hubby and I are participating in our annual post tax season getaway. It is a ritual we established many years ago in order to get reacquainted with each other after two long months of fleeting connection. In our regular lives, it's so easy to devolve into schedule coordination and to do lists. Although these things are necessary to some degree, it takes committed vigilance (mine) and responsive willingness (his) to keep it deep and meaningful. On this getaway we engage in what is our most beloved but infrequent pastime: Doing Absolutely Nothing. While Doing Absolutely Nothing we have to deal with occasional feelings of guilt at our indulgence. What does it say about the expectations we put on ourselves when relaxing requires justification and rationalization? We also worry that we've fallen into a rut. Timepieces around the world can be set to what we do on this weekend. We go to the exact same place, do the exact same things, in the exact same order, every time. We feel better once we conclude that it can't be a rut if we're enjoying what we're doing. Can it?

The beauty of Doing Absolutely Nothing is that we're now available to ponder and reflect on some of the things that usually escape our attention.

Like rhubarb crumble. And grilled nutella and banana sandwiches. Both are offered every morning at the ample breakfast buffet. Dessert for breakfast - how great is this?!

Breakfast!

Sourdough bread made in house. Although the "healthy eating" experts advise against eating too much bread, I cannot resist. The sourdough starter for this bread came to the hotel 6 years ago, brought by the pastry chef from another hotel in Tofino, B.C. where it was "started" 10 years before. The bread I'm slathering with house-churned butter was started 16 years ago. How cool is that?!

"Old" bread

The Hubby and I get to DISCUSS things that don't involve who has to be where, what has to happen when, and can you believe the Adolescent did WHAT?! The Hubby's discussions usually involve some sort of Manspeak related to Blue Jays baseball. To hear him go on about them you would think that the Jays are his greatest source of joy and greatest source of despair. I would roll my eyes but that would be Doing Something and that is not in the schedule.

I get to mull over why people would choose to cook when amazing food can be had already prepared, even if cost wasn't a factor. We determine that it's related to pride and recognition for our accomplishments. And it's a way to show people who you care about that, well, you care about them.

We go on a daily tramp through the woodland forest that is part of the allure of this place. When the Hubby proclaims that he has to pee only a few minutes into our walk it initiates a discussion of whether he was paying attention during the inevitable childhood lesson of Prepping To Go Out. I take in the magnificent sight of wild trillium dotting the woodland floor. We briefly consider going on a bicycle ride but quickly dismiss the idea. That, again, would be Doing Something and there is not enough time for that.

A quintessential Ontario spring flower

Soon we will return to the fast paced high demand existence that is regular life. But, in the meantime, absolutely nothing is taking up all of my time.