On the Metro

... an irrelevant selfie along Sherbrooke Street with a statue ...
I tried to get the whole statue in and this is the best I could do.
I barely figured out where the camera on the selfie side is. 

Catherine's hope was that I would get to downtown Montreal in time to see the flag and artwork that were along Sherbrooke Street.

That didn't really work, for everything was taken down this morning when I got there.  One day too late, is just too late.

Still, I hopped off of the bus and walked for a couple of hours in the strongest wind ever.  Signs were crashing down.  Leaves were lifted up higher than the trees they had fallen from.  A big metal YIELD sign came rolling across the sidewalk between another pedestrian and me.  Raised eyebrows and we both continued, me still going west and he travelling on east.

I road the 24 bus loop once in the morning and then a second time in the afternoon.

Catherine lives one block off of the metro line.  I am dying to get down under the ground and ride there.

But first, I have to figure out how to buy the tickets.  That was an adventure in itself.  Catherine said it is easy for they have English directions.  But I would have had to have known where to hit the right buttons as well as read English.  Someone finally helped me right down to asking for a receipt for the transaction.  I thanked her and she walked away.  But then I couldn't find the ticket or the receipt.  I finally emptied out a clear plastic canister on the front of the machine but there were about 7 pieces of paper in there.  I went back to find the woman who had helped me; she returned to the machine, showed me a small vent at the bottom which was holding my ticket, and then replaced all of the paper I had gathered back into the trash holder from which I had collected them.

Welcome to Montreal, Arta.

Three Lunches

Duc de Lorraine

 I generally frequent the Dairy Queen with my sisters when I am in Alberta and B.C. The meal is cheap: a hamburger, fries, a drink and a sundae, all for $6. The drinks are refillable. There is no pressure to get out of the restaurant before the next sitting.

We haven't been going to the Dairy Queen here in Montreal. Catherine, Laurel Thatcher Ulrich and I went to the Duc de Lorraine after we had seen St. Joseph’s Oratory.

I had an interesting salmon quiche and a Strawberry Mousse Tart. Sounds perfect, doesn’t it, but I shall always call that place, the House of Fruit Flies. Really, the bugs in the air could only have been rivalled by the heat of the summer and the presence of lots of fruit in my own house in the summer. Yesterday, it was hard to duck the flies so that I only got a bit of quiche or a taste of the mousse.

That waiters were dressed immaculately. The accent was Parisienne.  But the flies were horrendous. The best I can say is that the presence of so many bugs could only signal that everything was made with real fruit, and that it was 2 in the afternoon, time for yet another batch of fruit flies to be born.

I have a special affinity to fruit flies. In my first year of university, in a Zoology class, we had to produce our own fruit flies and then count the blue-eyed and the brown-eyed bugs to figure out some principle of Mendellian law.

Feast Number two occured in the evening.  The 3 of us plus Eric and two more couples went to The Raj downtown.  Some in our party were looking for a vegetarian feast, which we found.

A bronze burning candle stick was to my left and across the table from me, Jay Glowa born and raised in Vulcan, Alberta. I don’t know why I am mentioning the candlestick. Perhaps because the flame was just a little too close for my comfort. I asked Jay why he had settled in Montreal, since his beginnings were on the Alberta prairie. Anyone who has grown up on the prairie will know about the dusty smell of the dry earth and the sound of the gophers. He too could remember these things and said that going to Montreal on a mission had opened up a whole new urban world for him, so here he was, 30 years later, happy in Montreal.

The third restaurant was the next day, the Ferrari – an Italian restaurant with traditional dishes and daily made pastas, plus an ivy-and brick-trimmed patio. The salmon was great. The conversation with Candice Wendt lots of fun. Nothing like talking to someone who has just moved to Montreal and still surprised by the wonderful Frenchness of it all.

If I were 30 years younger I think I would throw myself into a French speaking class with a vengeance.

Arta

Masks

Hebe trying on masks
at the Pharmaprix

Catherine and Eric are in Washington, D.C. for the weekend.

That leaves me here with their kids, which essentially means, I don’t have much to do.

The three 17 year olds don’t need any supervision. They come and go, study, eat and pick up after themselves.

Apparently Hebe doesn’t need any supervision either.

I am the one who needs help.

I couldn’t even get water and ice out of the fridge without making a big mess on the floor.

A flood.

When Hebe saw I had spilled so much water she fell to her knees and wiped it up quickly with an absorbent terry towel cloth.

Guess who?

Then she looked up at me and said, “You shouldn’t work in other people’s kitchens until you know how to operate their equipment.” Well, I couldn’t have agreed with her more.

This morning Hebe’s mom came to pick her up for an outing. Hebe and I had played L.O.L dolls while we were waiting for her mom’s arrival.

There will be no prize for what I have learned about the dolls. That I know the different series and classes of dolls is only a by-product of getting to play with toys from another generation.

Playing dolls was about an hour of our time in the morning.

When Hebe and her mom went out the door, Hebe came back in and said to me, “Don’t forget to lock the door, Grandmother.”

Catherine's favouite mask
... a profusion of butterflies ...

I am guessing that it will take some time until I inspire confidence in her, though I do notice that she likes to quietly play about three feet away from me.

She must be missing Catherine.

Arta

The Montreal Ward Halloween Party

reverencing ancestors

We are home from the church Halloween Party.

It was a mixture of colouring and cutting activities for kids, pipe cleaners to wrap and twist, Phillipino decorations for the day of the dead, a Halloween spook alley, face-painting and “trunk or treating” out in the parking lot plus a buffet of foods from everyone’s ethnic traditions.

A big hit for Hebe was a maze which was entered through a tunnel and inside of which were dark paths to crawl along.

I noticed that one pre-teen boy was not allowed in.  Apparently he was good at deconstructing the maze into its component parts, so it had to be rebuilt everytime they finally got him out of it.

There was also trunk or treating in the parking lot, a big group picture on the stairs of the church and a closing prayer in the parking lot, done by a man with a large voice.

... decorating the gym ...

... a baby bumble bee hands out candy ...

Costumes were worn by adults and babies.

The prize for the most consistent Halloween characters would have gone to a youthful couple: Peter Pan and his shadow.

The shadow wore a skin tight black costume with a head covering that was also tight and black.

Hebe standing between Peter Pan
and his shadow

She could see out, but we couldn’t see any of her facial features.

She would follow Peter Pan as though she were his shadow. If a person engaged with her, she would become their shadow, but never speaking – which was quite disconcerting, at first, for Hebe, someone mimicking her body motions in silence.

... the parking lot full of car trunks with Halloween sweets ...

I was reminded of Mary Johnson’s memories of good church parties.

If there was lots of running in the halls of the perimeter of the gym, then it was a good party. I checked if this kind of happiness still occurs.

Yes, there were three pirates having a sword fight in one section of the hall.

Someone had gone into the balloon room and kicked all of the balloons into the hall so a lot of fun could be had there.

Hebe's loot

At one point there was just too much going on for Hebe so she laid in the centre of the hall, snow angel like.

Food was being carried from the kitchen to the cultural hall, so watching the children run down the hall and the women at the same time trying to cross them at right angles provided some entertainment.

All in all, a good time was had by all.

Arta

St. Joseph’s Oratory

Inuit Nativity Scene

 Catherine picked up Professor Laurel Thatcher Ulrich from the airport, in anticipation of a lecture she was giving at McGill’s Birks Heritage Chapel.

We had part of the morning and early afternoon to spend together.

Catherine suggested a trip to the top of Mount Royal to see the view of the St. Lawrence and then finishing off at the Nativity Display at St. Joseph’s Oratory.

I spent two happy afternoons there when Catie was a baby, so I was happy to go back and Laurel said she would enjoy that as well.

Close up of Inuit Scene

Catherine knew that there were massive renovations going on at St. Joseph’s, since Brother Andre had been made a saint.

But she had not been up there to see what had been going on, so she was happy to go there as well.

She told us that her favourite part of the basilica is downstairs where faith healings occurred.

There is a wall onto which have been put the crutches and prostheses of people who have been healed.

medium shot of Inuit scene

long shot of modern Nativity scene

She said as a physician she is always interested in alternative ways of healing, especially ones where people can leave their crutches and go away whole.

So we saw that part of the church.

As well, there is the coffin of Brother Andre and in a different place, his heart which is preserved.

Its value was inestimable for someone, for it was stolen and not returned for several years.

Now it is housed behind a locked gate, but still available for viewing.

Joseph is taking a selfie
Mary has a peace sign and a cup of coffee

We were sure to see that.

The new gift shop is fantastic!

More nativities for sale than I have seen for a long time.

If I get back there I am going to be sure and buy a 13 piece acrylic one for $53.95.

There is less than $8 for each figure and four year old Alice loves playing with crèche sets any time of the year.

Everything so sweet.

The big disappointment was the nativities.

 There used to be 400 or more of them of all sizes, on display.

3 wise men of modern scene
notice cow is 100% organic

Now they have cut the display down to 1/10th of that and some of my previous favourites are in storage and there is no estimate of how long it will take until the renovations are finished and they are all out on view again.

For a lover of 400 crèches, a big disappointment not to have seen it all.

In this case, less is not more.

Arta

Digging Into Diaries

This morning, at Concordia, I went to hear Dr. Laurel Urlich give a seminar to graduate students “Digging into Diaries”. 

Dr. Ulrich was explaining what she had found in some of her research for her newest book, A House Full of Females: Plural Marriage and Women’s Rights in Early Mormonism, 1835-1870. 

A heavy title.

Provocative as well.

The main point of the lecture was that we can read primary documents and discover much about women’s lives.

For example, diaries are better than retrospective memoirs. Dated letters are good; dated poetry works as well (see the works by Eliza R Snow). Information can be gleaned from minutes books (a prized one from church history coming from the Nauvoo period). And autographed albums work as primary documents.

Professor Elrich used a paragraph from a diary she had studied, giving it to us as a test case. We broke into groups We came back with our best analyses. And then the fun began, parsing out timing, the people being spoken of, the day of the week, the mode of transportation, and the relative importance of the morning, afternoon and evening activities. The diarist ended her day receiving a reduction of alcohol from her husband which gave her a good sleep and relieved her of her weariness. I think that reduction would help me some nights.

In the early beginnings of Mormonism there is plenty of evidence that women gave blessings to their husbands, other women and to their children. As well the controlled their own money and choose their charitable initiatives. They spoke in tongues, testified, but did not give sermons. We live in a modern world where this has been reversed. At least if we can believe the evidence we find when reading old Mormon diaries.

I wanted to post a picture of Bathsheba Smith before 1844 by Maudsley Sutcliffe that is in the Pioneer Memorial Museum in Utah. I couldn’t find one on the internet. What was touching to me is that we have a profile view of her, and extending down to her knees. She is standing beside a table on which there is a pen and paper. I try not to, but I sometimes forget how important a pen, some ink and paper are.

For these early Mormon women, access to the press stimulated their writing, in retrospect, a gift for all of us.

Arta

Halloween Masks

Halloween is the second best holiday of the year.

Perhaps it is the best holiday of the year, for there is no expectation of reciprocity.

And nowadays there are plenty of good decorations for the outsides of homes, besides wonderful costumes.

I have been walking along the streets of Montreal, watching to see how people get ready for Halloween.

There is a Halloween tombstone along Brillon Avenue on which is written, "I told you I was sick."

The rest of the yard is covered with rats eating carnage, or skeletons in trees.

Horrifying for someone who is young.

Hebe has been learning which houses along her block might be open to people coming Halloweening.  This might be one of those houses.

Hebe has been trying on costumes. 

When someone comes knocking at the door, and looks like this it may be her.

Arta

The Flight to Montreal

I thought I would sleep most of the way on the flight to Montreal, and I did.

...Hebe greets me at the Montreal airport...

Still I can remember looking down at the patchwork of fields and roads. I imagined what it would be like to walk along them, though at the speed an aeroplane flies.

When we were flying over Lake Winnipeg I could see dark patches in the water. It took me a long time to figure out that what I was seeing were the shadows of the clouds in the water and that I was high above the clouds looking down on the world as it turns.

I had done plenty of walking while waiting to get on the plane. I was there two hours early so I know the corridors well again.

The plane was full except for the seats near the front that can be booked.

No one is going to book a middle seat and pay for it, I imagine.

L.O.L Dolls

That made my ride an easy one. I sat by the window seat during take-off and landing, and then used the isle seat for the rest of the journey.

I have new luggage that rolls on wheels – four wheels, so now I have baggage that is no trouble to move.


On the way home from the airport Catherine, Hebe and I stopped at the Pharmasave and then more importantly, at the Dollar Store.

Hebe wants to go as an LOL doll for Halloween: Coconut Cutie.

There is a small worry for her that no one will know who she is, and she is right on that one. 

No one will.

Coconut Cutie

Catherine had an image of the doll on her phone at the store and they were busy matching the colours of flowers in the hair band, trying to match a necklace, and they already have the green skirt at home.

Halloween is hard work for mothers and children.

Arta

Pear Cheese Cake

circa 1975

It is one thing to have a pear tree in one's yard.

It is another to make a pear cheesecake.

Wyona used the recipe from the Better Homes and Garden Cookbook that she received from Aunt Mary when Wyona got married.

That book must be close to 50 years old.  The only way I will get one is if I see one in the Salmon Arm Churches Thrift Store. 

I saw Wyona's book.  Many of the pages need reinforcements.  Some of the pages are spotted with the stains of recipes long made.

In this case, after the crumb base in the recipe book, Wyona alternated layers of peeled pears and cheesecake filling to the top of her spring form pan and then she put it in the oven.

Pear Cheesecake for Three

Moiya and I just happened to come by her house as she was preparing to eat the last piece.

Of course, the whipping cream on top didn't exactly come out even with the cheesecake below it, but that didn't matter to any of the three of us.

One piece -- enough to feed three hungry women.

Moiya and I can tell you, "Pray for another good crop of pears next year.  Add to that prayer the hope that you will be passing by and drop in at the right moment."

Arta

Broadway - Cyrano de Bergerac

Photo: BroadwayHD

One of the hardest things for me to do is to keep track of shows that are coming to Calgary via the HD networks.

I noticed that Cyrano de Bergerac was coming and made my way to the theatre -- along with 7 other people.  This is obviously not a way to make money.

I was riveted.  This story is a metaphor for the power of words.  Thinking that I was "getting it" I was fine as the plot moved forward.  By the time Cyrano (Kelvin Kline) did his last soliloquy the power of the message about did me in.  I don't know if I just needed a good cry, or what the trouble was, but the tears were streaming down my face.

Those feelings couldn't have been just in me, for the applause from the audience was thunderous as they rose to their feet.

If this production comes at a later date to a theatre near you, try to attend.  It is more than worth the $18.50.

On the way home that night, I was thinking back to the first production I saw where the theatre became a place of intense interest for me.  I can remember being at the Plaza Theatre and seeing Shakespeare's Julius Cesar.  James Mason played Brutus.  That was my Grade X year.  We had to memorize 12 lines of poetry for the teacher.  I did Brutus' "This was the noblest Roman of them all/" sequence.  A world opened for me that has never been closed.  God willing, dementia won't take that away from me, not that I am planning on having dementia.

Should anyone not remember the plot of Cyrano, I have lifted these few words from the Cineplex website:

Synopsis

Soldier and poet Cyrano de Bergerac (Kevin Kline) is in love with Roxane (Jennifer Garner), but he’s too ashamed to admit it because of his big nose. When a cadet, Christian (Daniel Sunjata), falls for Roxane, he asks for Cyrano’s help in sharing his feelings. Cyrano writes love letters signed with Christian’s name, and Roxane doesn’t realize that it is Cyrano’s words she falls for. She marries Christian, and Cyrano continues to keep the other man’s secret, even after tragedy strikes.

P.S. There is a short trailer about the movie.  At least go there if you want to see the length of Cyrano's nose.

Pics from the Shuswap

Photo by Moiya

Moiya occasionally sends me a picture of the lake.

Sometimes it is when a rainbow is arching the sky or perhaps it is Christmas and the Woods have built a snowman in their yard,

She lines everyone up to have their picture taken with their winter wonderwork.

Today she looks out over the water to see the colours if the fall in the trees. 

There is Wyona's purple house and then Glen's beige house in the right side of the picture.

A charming scene.

Photo by Moiya

Having no such view from our windows, Wyona and I met at the Dairy Queen today to discuss our plans for the fall.

She is taking a short trip to Ottawa to see old friends.

I am going for a month to Montreal (with a sidebar trip to Ottawa).

Both trips I am looking forward to.

I haven't been to Ontario nor Quebec for a long time.

Im Montreal I remember walks through quaint neighbourhoods.

And visits to ethnic restaurants.

The garden  has been dug.  The raspberry bushes are down.  
The apples are off of the tree.

Photo by Moiya

And time spent in St. Joseph's Cathedral, as well as museums and art galleries.

The only question left for me is, better to get a monthly transit pass, or to pay each time I go out?

I haven't had time to brush up on any French and if I tried, I don't think it would work.

About all I could do 50 years ago was read Le Petit Prince and I don't think any of that vocabulary is going to help me.

I am so looking forward to visiting "the beautiful province". 

Moiya's  pictures of B.C. set the standard high.

Arta

Time for bed ...

This could be any day at the house next door.

Michael has been allowed to play some electronic games.

Alice is hanging over his shoulder, because it must be fun if Michael is doing it.

And Betty is just trying to figure out a way to get in closer.

Today I took an afternoon nap.

If I start my nap at 4:30 pm, I am not going to wake up until about 7 pm which is when that little household starts to close down.  I ran over there so that I didn't miss the last few minutes of fun.  Grandmother Joan was tending them, having a clean-up party and then she was letting them play hide and seek.

They have no new places to hide, but that doesn't matter to them.  Off they go for one last round of fun before going to bed.

Now how could life be better than that?

Arta

The Volleyball Season Begins

... a long shot of Gabe ...

Gabe Treleaven started high school this year.  

He goes to Central, which is a bit of a hike from his home.  

It takes him over an hour to get there on the bus.  

Gabe tried out for the volleyball team.  

He got on.  

Only 6 people tried out.  

They had to put out another call for players.

Today I got a note from Marcia.

She said:

You should've come to Gabe's volleyball game at Bowness. 

Darla and Don Robertson were there as Kirby's son is on the Bowness team.  

... the opposition have 20 + fans ...

Bowness High School is Art's alma matter. 

Twenty people sat on one side of the gym. 

I was alone on the other side. 

Next time we could use more supporters. 

Marcia

It's only me on this side.

Marcia won't have to ask me twice to attend. 

I love going to high school games.

Arta 

Visiting a Sikh Temple

Photo: Kerri Singh 

2create.ca

Every moment of the day has seemed precious to me.

I particularly enjoyed lunch (langar) with Kerri today.

I have been wanting to attend the Sikh Temple, ever since Pouria told me about his own visit to the one in north east Calgary.

Kerri told me that she would take me to the one in southwest Calgary someday, and that day occurred today.

She explained a few things to me in preparation for our visit.

Photo: Kerri Singh 

2create.ca

Both women and men have their hair covered in the temple. 

As well, there are no shoes or sock worn. She told me that we would sit upstairs for a while, listening to music and hearing some text.

I really did have a wonderful time. 

Most people sat cross-legged on the floor – all but the very old who sat on wooden benches around the perimeter of the room.

People entered, and at the offering box left what they wished to give and also knelt and bowed their heads to the floor.

Photo: Kerri Singh 

2create.ca

I was mostly watching the old people as they did this.

One of them bowed and then popped himself up as though he were a 20 year old.

On rethinking today’s experience, I should have gone to him and asked what is his secret to long life and good health.

And flexibility.

I identified more with the old man who made it to the floor, but only with a helper. And getting up was also a problem. He should have just come and sat on the side with the rest of us.

On the other hand, I give him that he needed to perform that ritual, even with the aches and the loss of balance that was his.

Photo: Kerri Singh 

2create.ca

The trio playing the instruments must have been doing a familiar melody to most of the people there. 

The woman next to me seemed to be humming along with him. To the left of me, I could feel her rocking and hear her voice.

Veer delivered a substantial ball of food to me as I sat listening to the music, more than a golf ball, but much less than a tennis ball. I later learned this was Karah Parshad (sweet flour and ghee-based food),

Kerri could take the recipe out of her head as she told me what was in it, ending with, "and Veer loves it".

Photo: Kerri Singh 

2create.ca

 I sat and ate, watching others to see what the method was.

Veer seemed quite happy downstairs when we went there and began to get our lunch.

Kerri thinks that the abundance of it might be signalling Diwali.

Today there were lots of sweets, some pekorahs and samosa and a veritable vegetarian feast along the buffet line.

There were 2 sizes of plates: medium and large. 

This is the perfect way for my food.
I like everything separated ... not touching.

Veer took the large one, so I did as well.

 The only place I faltered along the line is when the server asked me, “One chapatti or two?” Without breaking the rhythm of the work he was doing he gave me what it seemed I was asking for: two.

I had a paneer dish (that seemed like butter chicken), a vegetable dish, a garbanzo bean dish, some sweet cocoanut rice, and as Veer puts it, “liquidy yogurt with some cucumber in it today”. “

The spices in this food are going to make you very sleepy,” said Veer.

 He was right.

Delicious and I came right home and had a long nap.

Arta

PS  I ate with the headscarf on.  I am not used to eating in this fashion.  I found the scarf getting into my mouth before the food did and so I seemed to be jamming the food into a cloth barrier.  I am going to give this some practise before I go back next time.  And I will be going back.

Kerri and Me

It is not often that a photo op occurs in a parking lot. 

But there was Lynda Pearson, offering to take a shot of Kerri Singh and me, so now you see it:  how the two of us dressed for Aunt Sharon's funeral. 

Both of us were working hard at showing respect. 

Some colour, but not too much.

I think Sharon would have loved us.

She did the same thing for Nadine's funeral, though I think she did a little better than the two of us, even buying a new dress.

Arta

Die Zauberflöte (Mozart) - Part I

I didn't have to be very long into this morning's HD Opera from New York until I was thinking, "Yes, worth it, even for just this much. Not even 10 minutes and I am in opera heaven."

Markus Werba  (Papageno)
Photo: Richard Termine | Metropolitan Opera

There were a lot of children at the opera today, in our theatre.

I might have counted a row of ten of them in front of me, and then I sat by a little 9 year old who was coming for the first time.  I asked her what she knew about the opera and she said nothing.

I thought, good for her parents.  They got her there.  Now she can decide if she likes this or not.

The opera was complicated for me today.  I am not crazy about fantasy and if I see it, it is so well done in the movie.

The theatre depended on what seemed like mile-high puppets:  the snake that takes up the whole stage, the fanciful bird and the children riding on its back, the five dancing bears and the wonderful masks on the heads of the 3 servants of the Queen of the Night.

What made the opera complicated is that I had read its history --  a 200 year old opera -- a mash-up of opera, stage, performers with style, and people who needed to be reminded of the melody before signing it.

All of that stylized Masonic iconography.

What great visuals.

I think a good time was had by all who were at the opera.  I didn't see anyone leaving.

Here is bachtrack's review.

Also see "The Met Has the Voices.  But will it need more to survive?

The walk up to the cinema and the walk back from the C-train also made me thoughtful.  On the way there I saw a blanket and a sleeping bag tucked up against the sound barrier where the sidewalk and its flower beds join Crowchild trail.  "I guess whomever slept there last night is coming back to the same place tonight," I thought, at the same time as I saw some running shoes connected to feet coming out from the north end of the blankets.  "I wonder where he will get his coffee this morning," I wondered, thinking about all of the houses along the sidewalk where good breakfasts were being served. 

On the way back from the theatre the wind was blowing as hard as I have ever felt it blow.  A couple of times I had to put my whole body into it, just to stay standing.  This was just when I was approaching the traffic circle at Crowchild Place.  There Crowchild Bottle Depot is also there and empty pop bottle cans were loose and flying across the road.  I had to keep my feet still for it looked like a chance to play kick the can with a can ready to be kicked at every step.  Now those are cans that are going to be re-recycled, if someone has a bag and the energy to make some money.

Arta

Tag - I cheat a bit

Michael, Alice and Betty wanted to play tag on the front lawn in front of our houses.  I can't run that fast anymore.  In fact, I can't even jog. The good thing about playing with Betty is just so she is tagged every so often she will keep running back and forth between the boundaries we have set up.

Michael can out run me, out think me, and out jump me (since there is one ledge where he can leap down, and where I can only gingerly sit down and then let myself off).

Alice doesn't care, just so long as she doesn't have to be "it" all of the time.  And in the middle of our game she suddenly changed it to frozen tag.

I love it.  The rules are so fluid when we play tag.

Arta

Die Zauberflöte (Mozart)

Photo: Met Opera

Looks like the beginning of another Met Live Season.  Saturday's show is 3 hours, 45 minutes.

I couldn't find any reviews but did enjoy myself out on this site: The Magic Flute - Wikipedia.

Synopsis to The Magic Flute:

Met Music Director Emeritus James Levine conducts Tony Award winner Julie Taymor’s production of Mozart’s masterpiece, Die Zauberflöte.

Golda Schultz makes her Met debut as Pamina with Kathryn Lewek as the Queen of the Night, Charles Castronovo as the fairy tale prince Tamino, Markus Werba as the bird-catching Papageno, Christian Van Horn as Sprecher, and René Pape as Sarastro.

Arta

Thanksgiving - Mary's and Catherine's version

Coaticook Ice Cream Factory

From Mary:

For the thanksgiving weekend, Leo and I went to a small town in what is called the "eastern townships" -- Coaticook.

They are famous for their ice cream factory.

... before the turkey bake-off ...
... neck being saved in the sink ...

Yes, we ate more than we should have and bought thermal bags so we could bring eight 2 litre buckets back to Cathy's.

We are crazy.

When Arta comes to Montreal, we can eat some of it.

We had to leave it behind in Catherine's freezer, it getting too soft to make it the last 2 hours in the car back to Ottawa.

Only 28 people at Cathy's thanksgiving dinner.

 She and Eric are great hosts.

 Nice to meet 3 different people/students working with Eric.

John Borrows was there too.

A nice mix for the evening.

Lots of kids.

Cathy's jello bar was a hit as usual.

Arta

Birthday Connections

Hannah Pilling and I share a birth date:  October 11. 

Half a century apart. Time span connected by loving family and loving the Lake.  

What did you do for your birthday, Hannah? Did anything make you laugh? Did anything surprise you?  Here are a few of the things that made me smile, laugh, or just have my eyes and mouth wide open in wonder.  

 ...an Octoberish day at one of my favourite places ... 

... the dream of going to Boston Pizza ...

two tickets to a clarinet performance
each ticket admits only one

Joaquim, David Doral, Bonnie Wyora

celebrating at the Drum Park