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catching my breath

It has been a very busy few days. My beloved Bruce was staying here, then his nephew and my friend  and former tenant Angus and his new wife Dani came to stay also, and their nephew and cousin Christopher was in the basement suite getting ready to get married and move out. The rest of the Kelletts spent a great deal of time here – Angus’s parents David and Karen and Christopher’s parents Charles and Jane. They are the nicest people and are welcome any time. David and Karen, who farm a vast property in Prince George, helped Bruce assemble and program the giant TV, and Karen told me it was time to harvest my zucchinis, which were huge.

On Wednesday late afternoon I rode to Metro Hall to put in my two cents worth at a forum about the Don Valley Trail, my pet project – to air my concern about racing bikers speeding along so fast, they make the trail unsafe for anyone else. And then over to the Beer Academy for student Lisa Jackson’s celebration of the first year of her website Eat, Drink, Travel. She’s a genius, that one – the site is flourishing, and she and her friends get free trips and meals all the time. The entire splendid catered event had been donated. How does she do it? I was born too late.

That night, Jon Stewart’s face was even more gorgeous at twice, three times the size. Go Jon!

Thursday I went across town to visit Booboo and his mother, then we walked up Roncesvalles to have a bite to eat at a great new Cuban place – oh Eli does like black peas and rice! – and then I went to the Revue Cinema. Local Beatles expert Piers Hemmingsen had organized a major event to honour the 50th anniversary of “A Hard Day’s Night,” with the world’s leading Beatles expert, Mark Lewisohn, over from London with his new book, the definitive guide to Beatledom. A theatre full of my people! I met Piers, with whom I’d corresponded, and Mark, and gave them both my book. Met a few other wonderful Beatle people.

I had to leave before the event started, to go to Christopher and Manal’s wedding celebration at the Distillery. A great experience – tall sandy Christopher from the most Canadian of families, and Manal from Pakistan. All the women on her side were in magnificent saris and dripping with gold jewellery – glorious. Jane spoke beautifully about her son, and Manal’s brother spoke with great humour about his sister, and we feasted and toasted. The wine was flowing, and it is possible I took one glass too many. Or even two.

So today was recuperate. And – oh yes, it’s my birthday, my 64th, a hot day with a breeze, perfect. And yes, I have been singing the song all day. There was a card waiting for me this morning from Angus and Dani, signed “To Grandma, from Vera, Chuck and Dave.” The greetings have been pouring in on Facebook; Auntie Do sent a card, as she has been all my life, and a cheque that helped buy the new TV. She called, and I was so grateful – when she’s gone, no one else will send me a cheque and make sure to call. She’s almost the last close family, except for my own progeny, that I have.

I went to the butcher store to get burgers and veggies for our barbecue, and when Mark the butcher, a friend for nearly 30 years now, heard it was my birthday, he gave me a hug and a fat, beautiful rib-eye steak.

Anna, Eli, Sam, Wayson and for a bit Bruce were here to barbecue and cut the cake from Daniel and Daniel – dark chocolate and peanut butter. Good, but really, just not rich enough. Ha ha. My grandson was naked, as he’s being toilet trained, and at one point, his mother realized that as we ate, he had done a poo under the table. Now there’s a birthday gift I won’t soon forget.

Now they’re all gone – guests and children. Just me and the birds, the peach roses, purple clematis and mauve Rose of Sharon bush. Heaven.

If only these shorts weren’t feeling quite so tight.

PS Just took some cake down the street to Jean-Marc and Richard, who sang “Bonne Fete” in French. Oh the joy of loving friends, family, neighbours. And now for a little glass of rosé to give me strength to tackle the laundry and the dishes.

It is indeed a bonne fete. And a thunderstorm is coming, to clear the air and water the garden.



2 Responses to “catching my breath”

  1. theresa says:

    Happy Birthday, Beth! (And I can see your cake, having visited Daniel and Daniel and spent many dollars on baked treats and chocolates in the past.) So have a lovely rest of the day — birthday greetins, bottle of wine. (or what's left of it anyway).

  2. beth says:

    Thank you, Theresa. At least I'm not losing my hair. Not yet, anyway. Hope we get to share a D and D treat sometime before too long.

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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

Some Blogs I Follow

Chris Walks
This blog evolves. It once was about travels. Now it’s a reason to be at the keyboard that I value.

Theresa Kishkan
Theresa Kishkan is a writer living on the Sechelt Peninsula on the west coast of Canada.

I walk on. With my feet, and in my mind as well.

Carrie Snyder
Wherever you’ve come from, wherever you’re going, consider this space a place for reflection and pause.


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