Canada, I Hardly Knew You

We are back from Canada and man, was I sad to leave.  It was quite a journey to get there--23 hours with all the nutso snow.  I knew that storms were hitting the Northwest, but somehow it didn't click until the pilot reported that we had been circling the Vancouver airport for a 1/2 hour due to it being completely closed and there being no runway.  They cleaned the runway just for us and we all cheered when we landed safely.  

New York had been blissfully unawares of such weather.   Graham and I even had Frida Kahlo margaritas at JFK to celebrate our departure.  I have never been to an airport bar and have made many jokes about drinking in airport bars, but when we glanced at the menu and saw these ladies, well, I felt obliged:
It took a half hour for them to make said Frida Kahlo margaritas, complete with floating unripe raspberries.    What this had to do with Frida, I don't know.  The lesson I learned was that I'd rather make jokes about drinking in airports than actually doing it ever again.  Then again, I should have taken these drinks as a foreshadowing of the night's entertainment.  They showed Mamma Mia! on the flight and I watched it with my mouth ajar thinking that it might be the best worst movie I've seen since Grease 2.  I know, I know--thems BIG WORDS, but I looked at Meryl Streep jumping around in overalls, flailing her hands in the air whether she was singing or not and I thought, there goes one of the finest actresses that ever lived.

I won't go into details as to the insane logistics it took to actually get to Vancouver Island the next day.  Let's just say there were at least 3 cab rides, all leading to either bad news or momentary bad news.  Also, let's say that every person we came into contact with was so helpful and NICE.  Canadians, even when telling you bad news, are the kindest.  And you need kindness when you were supposed to take a puddle jumper, but end up taking a ferry across from the other side of town.  We were supposed to get to the island by 10:00am, but we got there at 3:00pm.  This is what it looked like for the next 4 days:

We arrived to an island that was so buried in snow that when we arrived at my parental people's home we never left again.  Which ended up being fine because there was enough food to kill a horse, books, games, and other such blissful and cozy activities that kept us occupied.  We decorated the tree with my family's old ornaments, oohing and ahhing over the precious objects.  As I unwrapped each object, I couldn't help but thing that our family ornaments of odd food among other things said something about us:
What it is, I am not entirely sure--but we not only have pickles, onions, tomatoes, we have a prized fried egg that was made by my brother 31 years ago when he was in kindergarden.  It has gone near the top of the tree with a certain pride for years.

Christmas was very low key.  We listened to the Queen's Christmas message on the radio and had crackers, which I always love.  Finally, on the last day, the snow stopped enough for me to get SOME nature in.  I was going to (ahem) lose MY SHIT if I didn't get out of the house, what with not having left it for 4 days and the usual family love turning to some nuttiness.  I'd also eaten probably my weight in Nanaimo bars.  Dear me, am I glad that Nanaimo bars are at least 3000 miles away.  I would be as big as a house.  

Pam and I took a walk in the snow to the pond nearby.  It was glorious.  So quiet.  The pond was frozen over and lay shrouded in the mist.  
It was hard to leave for a number of reasons.  Being with family is like a restart button for me.  I felt grounded in a way that I hadn't felt in awhile.  The time went by faster than it ever had.  I didn't feel ready to go home like I sometimes am.  Plus, the journey was long getting there.  It was long going home too.  Not 23 hours long, but long enough.  I still miss them.