The banner that never was and the fish that wouldn't be caught

In preparation for our Scouting Jamboree, I was asked to see if I could create a banner for us to use in the parade to say we were representing England, so I dutifully drove back to Toronto and went to Kinko’s, promising the girls that I’d take them to Yorkdale Mall afterwards. Three hours later(!!!), the girls were still waiting in the car to be taken to the mall and the banner still wasn’t done. Why? Because in the final transatlantic phone call to Orest, he decided that the price being quoted was too high to spend. (If only he could have told me that to begin with, the girls would have had their dinner and shop at Yorkdale, instead of getting crisps from the corner store and doing no shopping at all.)
I put aside the stress of the flipping banner and went back to the cottage to relax.

On Saturday, Larysa was released from camp and we had a combined visit from Peter and Tom and Lesley as well. Unfortunately, the weather did not cooperate and we were drenched at the pool waiting for it to clear up. Finally we got a bit of sun and it dried up enough that we were able to sit outside for dinner. The next day was fab, so we decided to head into Cobourg, to spend the day at the beach with Lesley and her dog Tanner. I guess I didn’t realize how unfriendly Canada is towards dogs, never having brought Jessie here before. No dogs allowed on the beach, not allowed anywhere else without a lead. At that moment I was happy that we live in England – a place which rates dogs higher than small children.

We all made the trip up to visit my step Mum Sofia at the Baptist Bible Camp at Pidgeon Lake for the day on Tuesday and spent a pleasant day at their lakeshore with Adriana convinced that I somehow should be able to catch some fish for her. I’m not sure where this fascination with fishing has come, but there I stood, bucket in hand for at least 45 minutes with no luck of the slimy variety. I had to promise that we’d catch her something when we had better tools to do it with before she let me return to my beach chair with my sunburnt shoulders.

At the cottage so far

Remember last summer with the horrific mouse carcass and subsequent cleaning of mouse poo for days afterwards? I was so afraid of what I might find this season at the cottage that Orest's Mum felt compelled to 'open' it in advance of our arrival, in order to spare my sensibilities the horror. (It also helped that I had cleared out the kitchen of all dishes and foodstuff at the end of last summer, in the hope that the cottage would be extended as Orest had planned. It didn't happen - but that's another long and painful story in itself that I cannot bear to contemplate at the moment.) And a wonderful surprise it was to be able to sleep on a bed immediately upon arrival without having to strip the sheets and fumigate the surrounding area. I guess the only place she and I both missed was the cutlery drawer, it required all silverware to be doused in boiling water immediately and cleaned vociferously of little black pellets of mouse excretion. It was only after careful examination that I realized that not only had they used the drawer as their personal toilet space, but that in their desperate search for something to eat, they had nibbled off the ends of several wooden spoons that had obviously been tainted with something edible. I felt a bit of pity, but mostly triumph that I had foiled their attempts to feast and party on anything else in our absence over the winter.

I realized also that the old Birkenstocks that I had left here were well past their prime, when after a rain shower I attempted descending the stairs at Borys' cottage, only to have my feet fly out from under me due to a lack of tread on the undersoles of said sandals. The one good thing I learned was that my husband still has some chivalrous bones in his body (after his inaction a month ago during my falling out of the car incident I feared that the romance had definitely left the relationship) when he immediately came running over to help pick up the flotsam and jetsom.

We had a fun week with visiting with Orest's brothers after the wedding, culminating in a post golf party at the cottage on Tuesday. Things quietened down until the weekend, with Larysa's coming out of camp for 6 hours to visit with her sisters, Alice, and us. The weather was great so the pool was hopping, Orest saying he hadn't seen that many people there in years. I was relaxing after seeing Larysa back to camp and Orest off to Toronto with Borys and Alice, when we had a surprise visit from the kommandantka with Larysa in tow. It was so shocking to see them, that immediately my thoughts turned to the awful possibilities that had brought them:

- Larysa had accidentally set fire to the dining hall...
- Larysa had gotten into a cat-fight with one of her tentmates
- Larysa had hurt herself gravely

The truth was actually quite mundane and embarrassing...Larysa had lice and I was asked to shampoo and comb out the offenders. After several hours work, I let her stay overnight and sent her back in the morning to resume her last week of camp. She and the other girls were happy to see her back...sans little friends of course.

Christina and Mike's wedding

Got to Canada and hit the road running….

The whole family (both brothers and their families) were waiting for us when we arrived at 7pm, and then Borys and his daughter showed up to meet and greet as well, so our first night saw us going to bed at 4 am London time.
Next morning, me and the girls did a quick shopping trip to seek out a handbag to match the shoes I was wearing to the wedding. Who new that white patent leather would be so hard to find?

Then, Christina’s wedding. Held at the Gardiner Museum of Ceramic Art, I thought for sure that it would spell certain disaster with Adriana being there. But luckily, she was either at her best behaved, or the staff secretly hid the ceramics every time she walked by, and no damage was done. The ceremony was lovely, the bride gorgeous and the groom cried; all the elements of a successful wedding. The reception was held in the same hall as the ceremony, so we spent some time either wandering around the exhibits or just taking family photographs while they changed the chair setup for dining tables.

The meal was provided by Jamie Kennedy’s kitchen, a famous Canadian chef, so it wasn’t the typical Ukrainian wedding fare of shnitzli and pyrohy. Although I loved the food, I was worried the whole time that Adriana was not getting a decent meal at all, turning up her nose at everything that arrived to the table. So the lovely salad, the pea-filled ravioli, the beef tenderloin with scalloped potatoes sat virtually untouched. Even the appetizers that had been passed around earlier didn’t pass muster (the home-made fries were apparently “too brown”). Orest even tried to convince Adriana that the ravioli would be “just like spaghetti” and even consulted with the kitchen to have them remove the sauce from her portion alone to try and have her eat something. All for naught, the sum total of her consumption that evening was:
5 peas (that had been used as decoration on the ravioli that sat untouched)
2 pinches of bread (the rest being deemed too crunchy)
And water

There was contest going that evening as to who ate the least and it looks like Adriana may have even beat out the oldest member of the family, Didush having no problem eating the brown fries, even though they were served in a paper cone. The photo of him here looks like he's afraid someone's going to scoff the only good food he'll have all night.

The kisses between the bride and groom were limited to those initiated by a song from the participants with the word ‘love’ in it. So Adriana (with lots of coaxing) managed to give them a rendition of “Love, love, Jesus is love…” You can always tell the good girls who go to Catholic school.

It was a lovely wedding and Christina and Mike deserve all the happiness in the world.

Interesting Phraseology

In tribute to my dog-walking friends, I thought I would provide a list of words and/or phrases which Bruce and Gary have found amusing. The cause for their jocularity being, of course, that my Canadian upbringing has given me a slightly different vocabulary than their own.

• nimrod - I must have pulled this one out of my childhood, because I hadn't used it in some time, but it caused much guffawing, especially from Gary, who insisted that this must be a classic Canadian word. I tried to explain that "touque" and "poutine" were the classics, but he was having none of it. So I apologize in advance should Gary approach a fellow Canadian with this "classic" Canadianism.


• ying-yang - As in "I had so much booze, it was coming out my ying-yang." I liken the word to "hoo-ha" or "wazoo", but nonetheless, neither had heard of it before, and caused much mirth.


• carnie - There was a carnival set up in the park where we walk our dogs last week, and while we were all moaning about the disruptions to our daily routines, I added: "And these carnies don't even clean up after themselves." Bruce couldn't figure it out. "Do you mean gyppos (excuse the spelling)?" I tried to explain that in North America that most carnival folk are not gypsies or pikies, so they had come up with a less racist, more generic term to describe them. He was having none of it...he's still teasing me about it a week after the "carnies" have disappeared.

I'll probably have more once I get back to London...

The next Steffi?

Make way for the Junior champion of the Finchley Lawn Tennis Club!

Stefanie quickly defeated a boy named Ashley (poor thing- what a name) in straight sets, 6-2, 6-3 to win the title. We were worried at first, having seen his wicked practise serve when we arrived, but it seems that Stefanie's steady playing won over Ashley's attempts to show off with smashes and fast serves.

I really felt sorry for the boy, he was definitely not having a good time of it, what with his mother and some other boys to groan at every mistake and witness his defeat. But Stefanie was being very gracious with her win, even trying to stick up for him when we got home, saying: "Maybe he was tired."

So we're really pleased for her and over the summer we'll have to see if she can beat her Mum as well. Then we'll know for sure that she's good and it wasn't just a fluke.

We say goodbye and we say hello

This weekend was Larysa's chance to say goodbye to her Year 6 class from her old school on Saturday and say hello to the girls in her new school on Sunday.

Josie, Katie's mum, did a great job of organizing the Year 6 leaving BBQ at the local rugby club, there were 2 bouncy castles, a DJ and everyone brought food enough for all.

Luckily we had Kos, Melanie's dad, who made sure the music was being danced to by all, parents included. I was fine when Larysa dragged me onto the dance floor for Cha-Cha Slide, but not so pleased when she insisted I shake my booty to YMCA. I mean please, why are we teaching our children moves from a disco anthem anyway?

The next day, I was responsible for helping the PA at Larysa's new school (it's Stefanie's school too) to set up for the welcoming BBQ for all the new Year 7 parents. I spent most of my time sticking labels on people, managing the music and recruiting parents to join the PA. I was hoping that Larysa would meet some of the girls she'll be going to school with in September, but it turned out that by the time we had all the girls have their labels stuck on them indicating which class they would be in, Larysa had met only girls from other classes.

"That's ok Mum, I'll have a better chance to get to know them when we all start school anyway."

Sometimes, Larysa can be very realistically optimistic.

Never trust a child with a camera

Both girls just got back from week-long trips: Larysa to Isle of Wight and Stefanie to Bayeux, France and were keen to tell me about and show me their photos.

Larysa took a disposible camera, but informed me she had used one up on the bus before she even got there and had lost the other one.

Stefanie showed me her digital photos, and again, they were all from the bus ride there.

What is wrong with these chidlren: when they look back in a few years time, will they be able to say: "Oh yeah, that's the picture of us in France (or Isle of Wight)."??

No, they'll say: "Oh yeah, that's the picture of us on a bus to....yeah, I forget where..yeah, but it was really fun!"

Left high and dry

You'd think that having gotten rid of 2 out of 3 children and a husband for most of the week I would have gotten a lot accomplished. But just as with the February half-term, I managed to fill the vacuum of their absence with stuff and inanities, instead of with real tasks and accomplishments.

On Tuesday, I spent the entire day while Adia was a school reading what I would consider to be a "chick-lit" novel, followed by finishing off the evening with another novel that Stefanie had left behind.

Getting Rid of Matthew is one of those books that are great to read on the beach, but shouldn't be used as an excuse to while away the day at the kitchen table, just getting up to make more coffee. I'd have felt more worthy if it had been War and Peace. I can't tell you why I picked up the other book, Angel when I brought Adriana home from school, but I was on a roll and thought that I should finish it because it had interested me enough to buy for Stefanie in the first place.

Wednesday, Adriana and I were in the process of getting ready for school when she pointed out that neither Stefanie or Larysa had to go to school, why did she?

Well, there was no arguing with that, so Adriana took the day off. (or snow day, as Orest put it) We took the dog for a walk, did some recycling (i.e. she came with me to the depot), returned a pair of shoes I'd bought for her that were too small and spent a few hours at Borders and Starbucks looking at and buying books. We mooched around the house the rest of the afternoon, but by 6pm she was driving me insane and I sort of wished I hadn't given in and sent her to school instead. Thankfully she was in bed early that night and I could relax with an episode of Boston Legal (I love singing along to its theme song- so did Jerry Espensen that night).

So after 2 days of doing virtually nothing, I followed it up with tennis on Thursday and Friday morning and a hair appointment on Friday afternoon, and ba-da-bing, ba-da-boom....there's the week gone.

I've got one week before I leave for Canada, so here's me knuckling down!

Stefanie diving

Finally our first free evening! But having spent the entire day away from home, it didn't feel like we had any time to just veg out, cuz we were too exhausted and I was helping Larysa pack for her week-long class trip.

I had to get Stefanie up at 6:15 am in order to drive her to the bus that was taking her to the London Games, where she was representing the borough of Barnet in the Junior Diving competition. After going to mass first, we then met her at Crystal Palace to watch her compete. Interestingly enough, we were also able to watch some ping-pong matches and basketball games, as well as keeping an eye on the kayak races in the next pool.


She did fairly well, placing 14th out of 22, but the bigger disappointment was that she was meant to do her first competitive dive off the 5 metre board, but declined at the last moment. I guess the trampoline we have at home hasn't helped as much as we thought.

Hopefully she'll gain more confidence on the board at the cottage pool over the summer...
(Sorry about the crap photo, by the way, being that far away, I couldn't seem to time the click correctly. It was either this photo or the one of just a splash of water.)