First Annual Family Day

I spent this past weekend with family. I figured that the premier might be disappointed with me if I did otherwise.

So whether you care or not, here's a quick recap of my happy little excursion into the country.

Saturday

I wake up early and do laundry. My apartment is hot, so I escape to the library and grocery store. Open returning, I mumble to myself, "If I had known it was this hot inside, I would have washed my jeans." Only people who air-dry their clothing would understand such a thought process.

I get a phone call from Nathan. So good to catch up with my little-but-way-taller brother. In his honor, the greatest dance move in recent memory:



Mom and Dad pick me up in the early evening and we head to Grandma's. I don't believe anything super-amusing happened. Oh, other than I told my mom that IMDb lists Bono as 5'6 1/2" and she responded with, "He's too old for you." Um, and apparently too married, too father-of-four-ish and too short. Thanks, Mom, for looking out for me.

Sunday

I get up way too early. We head to Orillia. For those not up on the Bells' family adventures of late, my dad's update is here. I think the longer I stay in the city, the more country I become.

Country Style has its own crappy version of Roll Up the Rim. I win $5 off a $50 purchase at the Source. I scoff and throw out the cup.

Church is warm and welcoming. And worship is led by some rather attractive Tyndale guys, which makes me reconsider my past education choices :) And for the first time in a very long while, the song "Every Day" is grammatically correct on the PowerPoint. It's "every day," not "everyday." Yes, these things drive me slightly crazy. Silly grammar job.

A couple invites us over for lunch. And by "lunch," I mean "extravagant turkey dinner." I have never seen such impressive turkey carving. Ever. I think I miss the genuineness of people. In Toronto, people don't let their guards down as easily as our hosts and other dinner guests seemed to. Authenticity and apple pie is a great combination.

A sampling of conversation topics:

• Sears catalogue addictions.
• Tragic birth stories. Stillborns and preemies.
• Because of above topic, my own little movie came up. I'm so famous, it's ridiculous.
• Rather graphic dog-mating stories. We're talking positions, people.

(It might sound odd to say that I was inspired by their stories of divorce, depression and poverty, but I was just so encouraged by the way these people rallied around each other. No one suffered alone.)

A few hours later (still stuffed), we head to Beaverton for a "Welcome to Canada" party for a friend's husband. He's been living in the Middle East while she's been in Ontario. I think I'd like to live in the same country as my husband. But that's just me. As I walk in the door, the hostess yells out, "And here's the celebrity!" I am introduced to a Phys. Ed. teacher who shows the video of my birth twice a year. It's probably weirder for him than me that he's seeing that baby all grown up. No one ever thinks about the baby as an actual person. I secretly love it.

An old friend is there. I haven't seen her since I was 11 and she was 12. She's been married for seven years. She has a 6-year-old. I can't quite wrap my brain around it.

I also experience a bit of house envy. The place is quaint and charming. It's little but very livable. I momentarily consider relocating to Beaverton just for the more reasonable housing prices. Not that I can quite afford "reasonable" yet. I'm still in "dirt cheap" mode. I tell myself that I can write anywhere, so why not?

Awesome cake. And it's my first experience with boxed wine. When I first heard of such a thing, my only mental picture was of a drink box. With a straw jutting out the top. I've never seen anyone sip wine from a straw. Hmm. We toast and people cry. I don't, because I don't know people quite well enough for tears. (I don't cry; I do toast. Just to clarify).

The rain is threatening to freeze, so we head out before it gets dark. After swinging by my grandma's, we head next door to my aunt and uncle's farm.

I check out my aunt's luggage and decide to borrow it. I'm heading west in March (flights are booked!) and need something with wheels. I'm a little intimidated by the idea of packing for 10 days, as I usually lug a massive bag home with me just for one weekend. I'll just have to be organized and creative. While I'm there, my cousin in Calgary calls, and we chat about next month. I'm so excited. Cue the Pointer Sisters.

Monday

I sleep in. My exhaustion probably contributes to two rather intensely ridiculous dreams. One involved Daniel Bedingfield dancing in the Guelph cafeteria (and my wallet ending up in the pocket of a man's trousers at a dry cleaners, found by the police), and another had me encountering a Candy Nazi at a movie theatre, eventually seeing me banned from the place. I also partially blame the weirdness on the Honey Nut Cheerios I ate as a bedtime snack.

I play my grandma's out-of-tune piano. I eat homemade chili. I inherit an old beaded necklace of my great-grandmother's. Not surprisingly, the question "Does Nadine have a boyfriend?" is asked right in front of me. This launches into a "I think Nadine will be the first to know" and "If I do, I don't know about it" conversation that really doesn't go anywhere but is slightly more amusing that the straight answer. And then we head out, Grandma's chocolate chip cookies as traveling food :)

Back in Toronto, I'm unpacked and in sweats, thankful that I only have four days of subtitling ahead of me this week. I have an email waiting for me from my eBay seller, telling me that my camera has been ready for pickup for days. Apparently the Purolator people stopped by and left a notice but I never got it. So I call Purolator and beg them to hold it a few days longer as I map out a rather long and awkward route to the warehouse where it's currently sitting. It will all be worth it. That's my reluctant mantra of the day.

Now I shall curl up on my couch and make that impossible decision: Project Runway or Medium? I'd usually watch Runway on YouTube, but it's not loading properly. Stupid illegal videos :)

Happy What's Remaining of Family Day!

Oh, and hi, Joel. You're also family. I just noticed you went unmentioned in the above. Maybe you should do the Puppet Master. Just so you feel more included. I'll see you in two weeks. Go crazy.