Last Friday, my ladies group, to whom I am deeply connected, traveled to Bridgetown and watched Jane carry the Olympic Torch down main street. Jane was fabulous. She had a grin a mile wide and a wave that would shame the Queen into learning a better technique.
The night was wet and glittery. There were tons of vehicles in the torch parade and they also glittered.
Fairy lights were on the trees and there were some sort of luminescent toys that glowed in the dark.
But amidst it all, there was Jane, who carried that torch like an Olympian Goddess.
Once the parade was over, Jane was off to post-parade celebrations and the rest of us traveled to Chester to the Fos'cle Tavern and had a beer. This was a first for this group. In all these years, we had never gathered at a pub, nor everyone had a beer and this was the startling moment, ordered bar food.
Jamie and Barb were deeply annoyed by our server who called us “My Dears”, “Girls”, and “Honey”. Catherine thought it was better than “Granny” and Linda didn't hear him. Jamie nearly hurled herself out of her chair to begin wrestling with him, but that would have been most inappropriate. She would have trounced him. Barb was getting heavily exercised as well, and this was amusing to me because Barb is normally quiet and laid back with a sharp left hook sense of humour. I was starved and wasn't really paying attention. I was more like a dog waiting for the master to toss some food into my dish. It was taking all my strength not to head to the kitchen and sit on my haunches and beg.
Back at Jane's home, there was a serious party in progress. Jane's nieces presented her with the actual torch that she carried and there was family galore munching on fabulous catering.
Kitchen Door was the caterer and it was so yummy that I even ate the smoked duck. Patty Howard is the owner/chef and she did a lovely job.
Sunday was our 30th Anniversary. That is, we count it from our first date, way back in the past of 1979. Other people count it from when we were legally married, which just seems like hair splitting to us. We married so we could take advantage of health care and maternity leave with a plan to getting pregnant. See kids, you weren't the result of spontaneous, irresponsible, drunken behaviour, you were planned.
After an afternoon outing to the library and a desperately needed nap, we went to the Wooden Monkey for some pretty good food, but more importantly, some delicious beer. Back in 1979, Steve and I emptied out our pockets and counted out our loose change and were able to purchase a pitcher of beer, drink it, discuss the possible fakeness of another woman's breasts and the rest is history.
A week later, looking at the day book, I can't figure out where all the spare time has gone. I have managed to make headway on my sheep fleece and here's a teaser photo.
We've been doing our usual running flat out from 7-7. I figured that in the last 8 weeks, someone has an evening outing nearly every night and when we finally get together on an evening, we escape into our respective books, coming up only for pajamas and scotch.
Everyone I have spoken to has been desperate to see the end of this term. No one is having a very bad time of it, just a non-stop list of things to do. There will be a collective sigh of exhaustion around December 5th. Tons of C02 emissions from Halifax that afternoon.