April 03, 2016
Charming company, departed. Sigh. Always wonderful to have worthy of note, guests. Gone back to life as he knows it, and here at the bed and breakfast we continue on as per usual. The machines, necessary to keep all in order, have all sprung to life. We have a negligible cleaning this morning. Almost insignificant and nothing we can’t handle let me assure one and all. (whining will resume when we hit the heights of the tourism season. There in lies the rub, lovely to have one guest but have to gear up to 10)
Breakfast dishes were getting done, and the door bell rings. It is my neighbors across the street at 9 a.m from Syrians, just arrived in Canada, looking for a chat and tea. In they came. They bring their phone which acts as translator from Arabic to English and back again. We learned the word brew in English, and I learned to say hello in Arabic. They kept assuring me they liked snow, and I don’t think they really understand just how much we can get, as their arrival has coincided with the second season of the year not the first.
I had a date, with a kind uncle and his wife, to go sugaring off and calories piled on as we slurped up pancakes, sugar and maple sugar. The little church in the country even had homemade desserts. We shopped a bit and the trunk of the car left me with a disfigurement across my forehead. Always eye-catching to have scars.
Lucy was hustled around the park, while I struggled to get a picture of her running, she would not cooperate. The dismal brown of mud season was the only thing captured. OFF we home after she had a brief stopover in a puddle and I did not get that cute pic either.
Butterfly! Butterfly~ I skidded into the first row of seats, just about delayed because of the eating, drinking, and walking to the enchantment of the composition, Puccini’s Madame Butterfly. The third time was a charm. That being how many times I have gone to the local movie theatre to look into opera! Entirely, enormously, from top to bottom, stunning.(not that I need help on that front) Before a live audience, in New York, beamed around the world to moi here in the big little city, for the mere price of a ticket, at the motion picture theatre. Charisma, thrilling, magical and more. T here were comfortable seats, with the couple behind me eating crunchy cheatos drowned out. There were intermissions, artistes, sky-scraping intensity singing. Japanese puppets, lanterns, orchestras, a sad plot, all celestial. Opera happens because a large number of things amazingly fail to go wrong. Terry Pritchett & Moi