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Canada Day


“Happy Canada Day!”

The interesting thing about this phrase, which you hear repeatedly from adults and children throughout the day, is that I never hear its equivalent in the States on the 4th of July. Throughout the parade this afternoon you would hear people using it as a greeting, as a statement of the day, and as a joyous pronouncement. I don’t bring this up to imply that Americans are less patriotic or less respectful of the birth of their country than Canadians are, but I found it interesting that we don’t give the day its verbal due in the same manner. But Canadians are no more knowledgeable about their country than their American counterparts as a recent article in the Edmonton Journal notes that only 3% of Canadians can name all of the provinces (and there are only 10) and though the majority of Canadians believe that the Maple Leaf symbolizes their country best at least 35% believe that Tim Horton Timbits are symbolic as well.

We took Katy to the parade in town today. It was just like any small town parade I have ever been to on the 4th of July with tractors, horses, antique cars, the local fire department and politicians. People threw candy at the crowd which children ran to collect and then deposit in the plastic sacks they brought along just for that purpose. One of the few differences I noted were bagpipes. Several different bagpipe groups marched at different points in the parade and provided the only music I really heard. Another thing that struck me was how polite the onlookers were. Whenever I have taken my daughter to a parade in the past the streets were lined with people. Adults heedlessly blocking the views of people who had arrived and seated themselves early or ignoring small children who wanted to get through to the candy being thrown from those in the parade. I have witnessed preteen and older kids scoop up candy meant for wee ones and even snatch it practically out of the hands of the littlest of children. Today there was no disrespect. No one standing in front blocking the view. Two boys about ten and eleven offered candy to my daughter when it became clear to them that she wasn’t getting any as they were faster than she was. 

We walked from the parade site to the afternoon festivities. We encountered lines at nearly every stop. There was a line at the only restroom at the gas station. It was a unisex washroom, and one of the girls working had to hold up the line further when it was made known to her that a bit of cleaning needed to be done. No one grumbled or complained, but continued to wait  their turn. At the Anglican church there was a kids’ festival with the kinds of games and plastic prizes I remember from the ice cream socials of my Catholic elementary school days. Again, pleasantry. We next wandered over to Legacy Park so that Katy could take a turn at the “Jumpy Thing” (we call them bounce houses below the 49th). It was a very long line and the family in front of us reminded me quite a bit of the families of my former students on the east side of Des Moines. Dad was missing his top two front teeth and nearly every word out of his mouth to his wife was rude or dismissive. Mom had the beginnings of a goatee and ran back and forth from the line where her husband and two small boys waited to some distant place to fetch them food. For one horrified moment I realized that Katy was going to take her turn in the “Jumpy Thing” with these boys but while they clearly didn’t get along with each other, they were quite nice to my child even to the point of helping her in the puffy plastic play area.

After dinner Rob taught Katy how to make S’mores, and though she was adamant that she didn’t like roasted marshmallows, she loves S’mores. During dinner she had bet us that she would still be awake when it was time to head out for fireworks and stubborn chip off the block that she is, she was.

The citizens on patrol parking cars at the park did such an awful job that Rob decided to high tail it out before we got well and truly stuck there. The Boy Scouts and their parents at the Iowa State Fair do a better job parking cars frankly.

We ended the day next to the North Saskatchewan River in the parking lot for the city’s tennis club and watching the fireworks. They didn’t start until 11PM because it wasn’t dark of enough. Even at 11:30 when we pulled out and headed back for home, it was still light off to the western horizon.

The quote for the day is a bit of a tease on my husband. He sniffed a bit when I told him my selection for today and indignantly retorted that, “Canadians kill with kindness.” He is right. Happy Canada Day.

The Wedding Photographers


Rob found Peggy and David on the internet. They are local to the Jasper area and their website has photo spreads of many happy couples tying the knot at the various locales around there. What pulled him, and then me, to this particular duo were the mountain backdrops they used. We are both quite partial to the mountains.

They arrived just ahead of the  M.C and  began assessing the area. During the ceremony they took candid shots and were quite unobtrusive. After the group shots were finished, Peggy asked us if we were okay with leaving the chalet for a bit, just the two of us, to take a few shots at a wonderful location just down the road but first there were a few spots on the grounds where she would like to pose us. So, off we went and I should have slipped on my hiking boots before we did. Marriage Alberta mountain style means climbing up and clambering down rocks and steep embankments for the perfect wedding photos.

Peggy had us laying on the ground and perched against trees. We slid down a sandy embankment only to find that we still had a bit of rock climbing to do to reach the perfect spot out by the river. Rob offered to carry me out but I didn’t want him to lose his footing too. When we were finished though, he scooped me up without asking and carried me back much to Peggy’s delight.

The most memorable moment of the on site photos occurred when Peggy began to lead us towards the backyard of the chalet’s owners. She was nearly always talking and half turned around facing us while she was and she was nearly into the yard when we all froze and began strategically retreating while giving each other looks that said, “Who would like to tell her?”

I think it was Chris who saw the gentleman first but it didn’t take any of us long to realize that the man sunning himself yards off in the yard was nude. The owners of the chalet are German and according to Rob in Germany people don’t have any problems with nude sunbathing. While he was there on business he said it was not unusual to see people strip down and catch some natural vitamin D in the buff in the parks in the city. Peggy was a bit puzzled when she realized we were walking away until she turned and saw why. Later she explained that she would have had us just continue on but she was certain she knew the guy and didn’t want there to be awkwardness the next time they ran into each other. 

After we returned to the wedding site, Rob and I left the chalet grounds and followed Peggy and David to a spot further down the river which afforded a much expanded view of the mountain range and the river itself. Rob had brought along a half finished bottle of Riesling from the night before and glasses for a bit of private toasting which Peggy decided to include in the pictures. Several times she had already commented that I had found “a keeper” and the wine just reconfirmed her opinion.

More than once Rob and I had to be asked “um, could you stop kissing for a bit?” Catching us at it again as we waited for David to light the shots, Peggy proclaimed, “You two are the kissingest couple of 2007.” While we sat and had a bit of wine, trying to “look natural”, Rob looked me in the eyes and told me, “You can be anything you want to be.” He has told me this before. His faith in my writing ability and my dream of writing for a living has been unwavering. At that moment his statement seemed as much a promise as the vows we had just taken. I know that no matter what he won’t let me get discouraged or quit on this dream of mine. It is such a gift to have the love and support of someone who believes in you. I am truly lucky.

On the drive back to the chalet, Rob selected one of our songs from the iPod to play. It was the Flies “Got You Where I Want You”. It is one of three songs that we consider ours. We toasted again with wine and beer this time and he cranked the volume as we both love loud music blaring as we drive or ride. The sun was shining. My sexy as hell husband was looking quite dashing in his tux and I was riding shotgun. And all was truly right with the world.

A Wedding Dinner and the Dead Dog


The wedding dinner was held at Becker’s. There is a gourmet restaurant  on site that is wonderful. Our party numbered just 15 and this included the three small children who were in attendance. The wait staff was very attentive and accommodating where the kids were concerned. The bartender even mixed up a carafe of chocolate milk just for them. Our server was from Quebec. She told my daughter she looked just like a princess and commented on how much alike we look. At one point during dinner she was chatting with Katy and then told me the story of her marriage when her daughter was three. Her daughter referred to the wedding as “our” wedding and still talked about the day when “we all got married”.

There was no pre-planned meal. We ordered off the menu. Carafes of the house red and white wine and cocktails kept the adult members of the party well hydrated. Because the chefs were in charge of the pacing of the meal it was leisurely but they were quite happy to make sure the children were fed first. Rob had a wild herb encrusted filet mignon. I joked that he would have to dance the cow off later when we went into the pub in Jasper, but he replied that he wasn’t planning to dance.

“I see how it is,” I told him, “put a ring on your finger and your feet stop moving.”

The best man howled at that one. The best man actually was quite the party favor. Surrounded by women from 22 to 76, he didn’t lack for attention and did his best to provide banter and giggles. At one point he kissed my mom’s older sister and taught my mother how to use a crystal wine glass to produce a rather ear drum piercing tone. Actually, by the time my mother got in on it, everyone at table was wetting fingers and rubbing glasses, and yes, there was innuendo to be had but the children had already been spirited away by the matron of honor’s mother to watch videos in their cabin at this point.

My mother proved to be quite the party girl. After the wine glass game ended (something I think the other patrons were grateful for), the best man decided to  teach her how to spoon. I think it was Rob’s older daughter, Farron, who started the spooning. First you need to wet the tip of your nose and then breathe heavily on the spoon. If optimal moisture conditions exist, the spoon will adhere to your nose. It took mom a bit to manage it but eventually the spoon stuck. 

Between my rather inebriated mother (“I am not drunk,” she proclaimed loudly and often enough to invoke the Gertrude rule), and our luxuriously eye lashed best man dinner was a success. Of course the delicious food and drink and excellent service played a part as well as the happiness of the day. 

Dinner began at 7PM and when we left at about 10:30 there was still plenty of light so a trip into town to the Astoria Hotel to visit its Dead Dog pub (on a tip from our extremely amiable French-Canadian server) was next on the celebratory agenda and so was hailing a cab service.

The Dead Dog is a local’s pub located on Connaught which is the main street in Jasper. There are pool tables, darts and dancing bartenders. Rob and I were treated to anything we liked on the house by the woman behind the bar but truthfully, I had no more than a sip or two of the white wine and I don’t think Rob finished his beer either. The best man offered us celebratory shots of something vanilla that necessitated lemon sucking immediately after and lucky wasn’t noxious enough to unsettle dinner. He was the only one of the wedding party to stay in costume prompting Rob to tell me the story of how the groomsmen and ring-bearer managed to completely destroy their tuxes after he and Shelley’s wedding. I didn’t remember it at the time, but one of Will’s groomsmen returned his tux completely covered with mud and vomit. I don’t think either story needs much explaining.

Cheryl thought that we should dance but we weren’t inclined to dance to anything other than our songs. We have three but Rob couldn’t find any of them on the juke box which was one of those video variety with the touch screens, prompting Rob to ask if he was old because he was looking about for one of those old Wurlitzer’s. It’s not old to want something classy in my opinion.

Jordan continued with the candid shots until her digital camera died but eventually the younger members of the party took to the pool tables and Rob and I snuggled and smooched and generally tried to stay awake. At some point nearing 1 AM, we decided to call the cab service, so while we waited Rob stuck a looney into the internet access computer that was there and I checked my email and surfed the news sites a bit before looking at the YWBB board. 

“We are pathetic,” I told him.

“Uh-huh,” he agreed readily and went to find the men’s washroom.

I wasn’t compelled to open any posts but Kirsta’s and was glad I did when it turned out to be her and Scott’s wedding announcement. As I was reading, Jordan wandered by and nodded at the computer.

“You know what this makes you?” she asked.

“A geek,” I replied.

She nodded, “Welcome to the family.”