Janvier 2025

It is time to break the silence on the new page, and I am glad to be able. It is wonderful to be past these dark days of sickness. Though recent, they seem to melt together into a fog of obscurity, like a valley of shadow we are grateful to leave behind. I'll briefly summarize a few points and we'll move on.

The end of last year told of sickness already happening. I'd had a touch of something a few days after Christmas, then stayed busy tending the others until the afternoon and evening of the 2nd I was wildly sick. Within four hours or so I was rapidly dehydrating and could keep nothing down, not even the smallest bit of water. Even though there was soon nothing left inside me, the convulsions kept coming more and more frequently. I found no relief lying in bed between the times. Soon my whole body was gripped in tension, so dreadfully worn out, and I crouched on the floor making all manner of moaning. I could no longer stand up straight or move around very good. By then my mouth had long dried out and my throat was getting there. House mama of course was terribly concerned and sent the guys to find some pedialyte somewhere. While they were gone I had Sabrina call for an ambulance and it seemed like an eternity before it came. The guys returned while we still waited and somewhere in there I managed to pull on some more clothes in preparation for the ride. 

Then they were here, and came in to assess me, and with some help I got some shoes on and a coat thrown over my shoulders and stumbled down the steps and out to the ambulance on the arm of one of the EMTs. House mama chose to come along. We went to the Santa Cabrini hospital which isn't far away. They wheeled me indoors where we waited a few minutes until called, and meanwhile I carried on with my shifting and groaning caring not at all who could hear and see me. I probably gave a lot of weary waiting room occupants even more discomfort with my expressions of pain. I really don't know how to describe it. Looking back the experience is fuzzy in my mind, but I know I had never felt effects of a virus so severely.

I was transferred to a chair on the side of a smaller room that four on each side with privacy curtains which were open most of the time. On that chair I continued my lament, it was a long, long time before any relief came. They did an EKG and also some blood testing and there was more waiting to do. I've always been finicky about needles. This time I was so far gone I didn't care. My whole body begged for hydration, especially my mouth and throat. I wasn't given anything to drink, as it wouldn't have helped, but my word I craved water above all. I thought of the rich man in the Bible story who begged for just a drop of water, and I think I got a small glimpse of what that would feel like. 

There were a couple other folks around, and as it got later the room emptied out more. Just across from us was a young Ukrainian woman who was in for some kind of treatment, accompanied by a man from Peru. (Sabrina and they got to talking a good bit while we waited.) The man has lived in Montreal for a couple dozen years, the woman just a few years. We soon found out they are Christians and having them there with us that night really was a bright spot. They prayed for us, and later they came over to stand by us and pray again. Arturo prayed in English while the woman whispered a prayer in her own tongue. 

Somewhere in there I got hooked up to an IV. I guarantee, there was nothing more incredible than seeing and feeling that life-giving water flowing into my arm and through my whole body, bringing such a relief. The crystal drops fell through the capsule beneath the pouch, holy water, bringing me back from the dead. Honestly I felt as though I were resurrecting, the transformation was incredible.

There was more conversation back and forth with Arturo and Madina, and eventually they were ready to leave, but not before giving us blessings and words of encouragement. I believe it was a divine appointment. 

We tried resting some but that was hard to do. For a while the room was quiet. Then around two and on it started filling up, with some interesting characters being wheeled in, not sure exactly what they were doing there, but so what. During the hours of waiting I got a different shot and another IV to further hydrate my body. Somewhere around 5:30 the next morning we were able to get ourselves out of there. Tyler kindly drove over and picked us up. Back home we got a few good hours and I was feeling much better, although my chest and back muscles ached for days after from the intensity of that Thursday evening. 

Here I'll describe it a bit more broadly; I really don't remember the days apart so much as just a couple things that came and went. But one thing was clear -- I was nowhere near recovered. Whatever virus it was, was relentless and installed itself firmly in my head, sinuses, and throat, sometimes moving among those areas and back again. Some things seemed to give a little relief, but nothing touched it. It was hard enough, but then house mama and the boys fell prey and experienced varied and uncomfortable things, so the four of us were pretty miserable for a while. Tyler and Micah by some incredible fortune never seemed to be so affected as we.

There was still metro singing on Friday the 3rd. It was just to be us in the city doing the singing. Hugues & Amy happened to be around for the day so they stayed to help out and I think it was a success. Saturday afternoon the guys took transit off the island to meet one of the Roxton youth, to go with the group to Vermont for volleyball and supper. They all came back to Roxton for the night. Then Sunday morning the group rode to Quebec City together to give the Christmas program at an old folk's home, something they usually do before Christmas. Caroling down in the old city usually follows that activity but that didn't happen this time around. They did spend some time walking and warming up when necessary. It was bitterly cold that weekend. (Here we saw low temperatures many days, and by that I mean we just saw them on the thermometer, and didn't get out into them unless absolutely necessary.) 

Tuesday evening we still had French study. Those days I didn't have much of a voice and what was there was pitched waaay down. We even tried singing a little bit at the end of the session like we normally do. We managed one song and a couple lines of another maybe before we decided we had better quit.

Metro singing for the second Friday of the month was canceled because of the situation. It was our turn to host the supper and the four of us were still permeating the house with the aura of sickness so we didn't have any inspiration for that. Darrel & Natalie took the guys out for supper that evening. 

On Saturday the 11th something arrived to change the course of events for us. Nothing short of a magical potion, really, shipped in a small box from Pennsylvania. I had been tracking it so impatiently, and when the doorbell rang with the delivery, house mama let out a yell that I must confess was a bit much for my aching ears. She couldn't understand why it wasn't me doing the yelling. I was so glad though to see that antibiotic. We took some promptly and the rest of the afternoon I felt the marvelous changes beginning, as the stuff went to work prying that virus out of my head and throat. House mama was so eager to get out of the house, we even took the little boys to the Biodome for something fun. That day we all were feeling a bit better, aside from the medication, so we were able to enjoy that. Another dose went down before bed.

We felt really weird Sunday morning but were all able to go. It was nice being together with Darrel's, Fritz & Lynette Zwygart from Roxton, and Ednord & Larissa Benoit from Alexandria. Rose was the only other attendee for the service so it seemed rather small. Akli had a recent surgery and Emile's wife had just borne their child, so those folks weren't around for our second Sunday potluck after the service. Another man showed up after the service (which was a bit shorter because nothing got translated this time), someone who Darrel has been with a few times, and who also had been to Roxton Falls the Sunday before if I remember right. So we weren't a large group of folks but we filled up a row of two tables and had a wonderful dinner together. The four of us stayed home that evening feeling pretty fatigued. Darrel's were planning to go out to Alexandria anyway so they took Tyler and Micah with them. We were glad to get our rest, and it was amazing how things were turning around by now with the medication.

But of course, it hasn't been only the antibiotic working in our favor. Thanks to you all who have been praying for us through this time, I know for sure those prayers helped. 

I've seen a relatively small portion of Mont Royal Park in all my time here, and there's definitely more to it than the main overlook and the walk through the woods to where the large cross stands. Beaver Lake, or Lac aux Castors, really isn't far from the large parking lot from which one walks the other direction to the overlook, and in this view you can see the parking lot toward the upper left, Beaver Lake front and center, and downtown Montreal on the other side of Mont Royal. For many years this spot has been a place to lounge or paddle in the summer and skate in the winter. Wikipedia says the pond itself was used for skating until 2017 actually, and since that they flood a smaller rink nearby for skaters. Cross-country skiing is also popular here, and inside the pavilion you can rent gear for both activities.

For some fresh air the four of us bundled up, threw some sleds in the van, and drove off to visit this place on Mont Royal. We tramped around the side of Beaver Lake toward the slope that is groomed for sledding with three tracks set up. (In the aerial shot, it's the green space on the far side of the water.) There were a few folks and kids out enjoying the rides so we climbed up too and tried it out. We had a handful of pretty good runs down the hill, until Alec was getting cold from being sprayed with snow and getting his thin mittens all snowy, so we didn't stay super long. We circled the other side of the water over to where skaters were circling. By then snow was falling heavier and the whole park with its recreation was quite nice to see. Of course it got house mama just itching to come and skate soon so we'll see if we don't yet. We stepped inside the pavilion to warm up a little, then trekked back to the van to pull off snow things and warm ourselves on a snowy ride home. Later on I finally got outdoors with a snow shovel to address the accumulation in front of the house and tempo that I hadn't been able to all those recent snow globe days. 

It was wonderful to rise early and leave for Welcome Hall with the guys again after so long a break, good to be back among all those fun volunteers, good to hear those Quebecois friends just going at it in lively conversations. I was a runner for the morning shift distribution while Tyler was stationed at #7, giving the clients meat and stuff. Micah and another guy were runners, as well as the two young Mormon guys that volunteer regularly and who have really hit it off with Tyler and Micah. It was fun as always listening to whatever Alain and Robert had to talk about. Alain wondered if I was coming down with a cold, the way my voice sounded. "No, I'm just coming out of something really nasty." And I ended up telling him about it, after which he said, "Well thanks for telling me about that. Now I really need to make sure and wash my hands." 

I discussed the topic with Chrissy some, and with Laura who was station right next to her. Laura is a young woman in her upper teens or lower twenties, fast friends with Cal & Chrissy Krahn. She claims them as her parents here in Montreal (her family lives in Ontario). I understand she's also involved in some mission or outreach of her own. Laura is fun to talk to and sometimes comes up with random questions. "Last time we talked about spirit animals," she said today. "What is the largest animal you think you could beat in a fight?" At first I thought she was asking how big of an animal I could "be" in a fight, which seemed odd but we got things straightened out and had some discussion on that and concluded that it sure wouldn't be something too big to throw or kick out of the way. She's a country girl and is well acquainted with a variety of wild animals. She would love to have a pet snake but says her mom would never let that happen.

Time passed as folks came through the lines to receive their groceries,  pack up by the exit, and return to the cold of the outdoors to head home. Coolers emptied and refilled, cardboard collected in the bin around the corner, and there was always chatting in the background along with Adriana's Spanish playlist or Alain's Beatles playlist. Around 11:30 the last folks came through for the morning, things were cleaned up, and volunteers went their ways. Tyler and Micah headed off to find lunch nearby and spend the afternoon at Habitat for Humanity while I made my way homeward for lunch with my favorite people. Later we made a run to our favorite IGA and got busy after that making a supper that I dubbed our "after-sickness feast." For it seems like we're (just about) back to full steam in the life and schedules here. Breaded parmesan chicken fingers, cheesy cubed potatoes, fried apples sort of down the line of Cracker Barrel's, salad, sweet tea. 

The front door opened just as we were finishing and in came a couple Roxton friends, Arnaud Andries and Liam Dyck. They accepted the last of the chicken fingers offered them and I poured them some tea to go with it. Then after a time they left with our guys to go try out an indoor skydiving simulation place in Laval. I think the idea is something like floating up through a column on a powerful current of air from below. 

We ate out together on Wednesday evening for a change. Tyler and Micah planned to spend Saturday elsewhere than Montreal, and as house mama goes with them on Wednesdays to volunteer with clothing distribution for the morning and afternoon, going out for supper was a nice option. In entertaining Julian and Alec throughout the day I didn’t take the time to look up tasteful restaurants around Mile End, but she did on lunch break. 

“How about Lloydie’s tonight?” she suggested. Lloydie’s, a small nook along Rue St. Viateur offering a variety of Caribbean food and drinks. It looked like there was a bit of seating area near the front windows for dining in. 

Nobody but the two guys working there were in the restaurant when we arrived. I think they do a lot of take-out though. We made our choices and filled up the table by the window with a wrap-around bench. It didn’t take them long at all to bring our plates. I must confess that I chose a poutine, but of course it was one with a Caribbean flair -- it was jerk chicken poutine. It was so good it quickly landed a spot on my short list of Favorite Poutines, right up there beside the classic MTL smoked meat kind. The other dishes on our table were equally flavorful and there were extra fried plantains to go around. After showering the folks with thanks and compliments on the excellent food we drove next up over Mont Royal to Beaver Lake to burn off some of our supper. 

We were prepared with extra layers and skates. The guys have their own here, and we brought a couple extra pairs from the CPS garage. We crunched over to the pavilion where they have many more pairs to rent out but they were about to close for the night. Julian was disappointed not to be able to rent a little pair himself. We’ll have to come back again for that. I tried on a pair from the house and they fit well enough, and thankfully were sharp enough to go somewhere on ice. Unfortunately house mama’s weren’t, they wanted to slide sideways even when she wasn’t going. She ended up accompanying Julian and Alec out on the ice and kept them out of skaters’ way. There weren’t so many people out that time of evening which was a plus. After dark the rink is lit up nicely and lights sparkle on the pavilion and on the trees in the center of one part of the rink, a small space bordered with benches for skaters to relax on. It’s hard not to feel winter’s festive vibes at a place like that. It was pretty cold that night though, and I think we spent a grand total of thirty minutes around there. It was enough though to establish a conclusion for the warm ride home: “that was fun.”

The nice thing about having metro singing at Station Radisson (at the east end of the green line) was that we could drive there. The downside was the unfamiliarity of where one could find a place to park. This station is right outside the Place Versailles mall complex so it's a busy area. We bumbled around a while before finding a workable place along a street around back. Those that could come from Roxton were there waiting, a total of 6, Gary & Chelsea accompanying Jeremy, Liam, Jayda, and Tara. Darrel & Natalie were there already too as well as Galilee Landou. Galilee is a recent contact who has started attending our church services and has met a good bit with Hugues and Darrel in the past couple weeks. 

There's a small nook at the bottom of the stairs near the metro entrance toward Place Versailles, and there a harp sign designates the singing spot. However some homeless soul was stretched out on the floor in that nook so we sang rather at an intersection of corridors. Somewhere near there a Christian woman was handing out her gospel pamphlets and no doubt our activity helped out with the volume of her distribution. The singing went well in the corner of those passageways. After that we met at church for supper.

I got a little more acquainted with Galilee there. "What country did you grow up in?" I asked. Turns out that's a question he doesn't have a straightforward answer for. He was born and raised in Congo though, but moved around throughout his life since his father was a diplomat, so he has lived in various European countries, and spoke of living in France. He has been in Montreal close to a year now, working as a financial advisor for small businesses at a bank. For about a month now, before finding our church and getting in touch, he has been making plans to move on out to Calgary, Alberta, and was interested to learn where we have congregations out there. But wait, I think I'm getting ahead of myself. Some of this I learned a couple days later, when he was over for Sunday dinner at CPS. Galilee is a super chill fellow, very knowledgeable and fun to talk with. After all, a well-traveled individual usually has a lot of interesting stories and insights. 

Friday also happened to be Ariella Ensz's second birthday. Of course Julian and Alec were really stoked about that, they adore parties. She couldn't wait to see what was in Julian's gift bag so the contents were discovered before supper. Soon a whole sheet of soft kitten stickers was spreading from the sticker sheet, migrating across the carpet and traveling different places. The real highlight was the birthday cupcakes for dessert, decorated in the style of puppy faces, some with tiny animal figurines on top.

The Ensz's white Honda Pilot showed up around seven in the morning. Tyler and Micah joined Darrel presently and off they went bundled up for a day of recreation. They headed northwest in the direction of Mont Tremblant which has a large ski resort, and chose to try out Mont Blanc which is right on the way, not far from Mont Tremblant. It sounded like they enjoyed their time, though they didn't necessarily give a detailed report afterward. Tyler: "It was so cold!"

So we had a low-key day largely to ourselves. House mama wanted to visit Le Petit Dep in Old Montreal to find a couple gifts to ship off to some friends. We departed in the early afternoon and as it was going to snow, we parked under the 40 right by Station Crémazie and rode downtown. There are parking lots in the old city and it's possible we would've been just fine using one. If everyone who uses them got their vehicles vandalized, there would be many more horror stories in the Google reviews; but as it is, you won't find good reviews on those parking lots, so I decided against it. 

Besides a couple gifts at her favorite café, she got a discounted jelly croissant to go and a bag of sea salt popcorn. We pushed the stroller back up to Place d'Armes square, in front of the Notre Dame cathedral and among all those Christmas stars that are still set up and glowing, and munched all the popcorn while winter tourists ambled around taking pictures of all the architecture. Then we walked down past the metro station over to Avenue Viger, our sights set on the new, ever-popular bubble tea shop called Chicha San Chen. (We first visited on October 5.) We stepped out of the cold into the warm, sweet aura to wait in line as workers buzzed around behind the counters preparing drinks nonstop for customers. Our drinks were well worth the wait. I got a green tea & mango with bubbles, a combination that never disappoints. If you like bubble tea, and have experienced really good stuff, I hope someday you can try out this top-notch shop and see how it delivers.

Snapshot moment: we're out on the sidewalk heading back to the metro station, fat snowflakes swirling around us, savoring our drinks. The boys are riding in the stroller like they do; Alec sitting, Julian standing behind him. A small voice echoes the phrase out of house mama's mouth: "This is the life!" Now obviously we don't do this every day, but it definitely was a highlight in the life we are enjoying here. 

We rode back to Station Crémazie from there. Sabrina needed some fresh things from Sami Fruits which is right near church, behind the Chinese market Kim Phat. This massive fruit market is ridiculously popular; the parking lot was a regular traffic jam even though it's pretty spacious. There were always vehicles coming in and out, and others circling around waiting for available spots. The Super C grocery store just on down Rue Jarry had a couple more items for us to pick up. By that time of early evening we were ready for some good supper. It was our good fortune to find a parking spot at Wing Phat, a Chinese restaurant another hop and skip down Rue Jarry. There we shared some more of our favorite things: General Tao chicken, Pad Thai with shrimp, spring rolls. There was plenty left over to take home. Tyler and Micah were dropped shortly after 7:15 and as they hadn't stopped for supper on the way back from the mountains, they were glad to polish off the rest of our Wing Phat supper. 

It's amazing how time has passed and Tyler is about to leave us. This evening was his last time going out to Roxton Falls for their third Sunday evening service. More and more it seems, folks are asking us, "How much longer are you staying around?" And I'm always glad to remember that Pennsylvania really isn't too far away for future visits to the places and people we love in this land. Those dreams seem doable. 

Often the service is a planned program but this time, it had been arranged that every household be prepared with a song or a number to give out for congregational singing, so that was a pleasant time. It was good again to sit in that country chapel listening to group singing and taking part with hymnals from the benches. There were a couple duets, family songs, a couple songs chosen from the round note hymnal Célébrons Dieu which they still use (until the long-awaited shaped note French hymnal shall appear) to sing together, and so on. CPS had absolutely nothing prepared; toward the end I took the opportunity to lead the rousing hymn, the first one in the Sélections book, "Gloire, gloire à l'Éternel!" It is truly so majestic, and though the gathering seemed a bit more sparse on this cold winter night, you wouldn't have known it for the volume. 

We lingered among friends a while after the service and headed over to Marc & Gayle Toews's for good times continued. She served among other things some soft, marvelous sourdough baguette and also grape juice from their abundant harvest last year. Julian and Alec love coming to Marc's, and Marc knows how to score points with kids by offering them flavorful TicTacs. The two of us walked out with Marc & Gayle after our snack to see their new sugar shack which now has insulation and heat, yet there's a lot of work to do inside, from finishing out a small apartment in on end to bringing in and setting up the sugaring equipment from their old shack. Even with a lot to be done, what was there is quite beautiful and I can imagine this building will be a masterpiece when complete. (And of course we look forward to seeing it on a trip back. "You could even stay in the apartment!" they offered.) Julian and Alec weren't enthused about leaving but Marc offered them some more TicTacs, "sleeping pills." The guys were wrapping up their games and socializing so before long we turned back toward the urban world. 

Vive les bons moments. Long live the good times.

I had offered Marc our guys' help if and when he could use it, and it turned out he took me up on it sooner than I expected. Tuesday soon after Tyler and Micah got back from their afternoon volunteering the three of us jumped in the Pilot and drove back out to the countryside. It was a cold night. The digits kept falling on the van's outside temp display, all negative numbers of course because it's in Celsius. The farther we went the lower it sank. Roads were clear well off the freeway until we turned onto Chemin de Béthanie along which the Toews's live, then there was a good bit of ice over the road. How cold does it get until salt won't do much? The display read -28° C (-18.4°F) when we pulled in. 

Fritz & Lynette Zwygart, Gary & Chelsea Nichols, and Arnaud Andries had gathered at Marc's as well, and the ladies shortly had a fine supper spread for us all. Slabs of pork roast, an alfredo-style pasta dish, a salad, biscuits and jam, fresh warm (and chunky) apple sauce; a chocolate cake and ice cream appeared for dessert. It was a jolly time together. 

After that all we guys bundled up and crunched out under the starry sky to the sugar shack, where it was warm inside and the large open-topped tanks were also indoors waiting for us to move them. There was a small loft space prepared for them, with beams close together to support all that weight when those tanks are filled with water from the reverse osmosis process; but not all the beams were up yet because there wouldn't have been room to get the tanks up, and there already was a third and smaller tank up on the loft beams to one side.

The first went up fairly simply with a few guys up on the beams and the rest of us down below heaving it up to them. They pulled it into place with not much room to spare. The second one we hoisted onto a small lift which Matthew carefully drove into position, then from there the tank ascended tilted sideways, and then there really was little room to spare. At the end, one corner of the tank was out over open air but safely balanced otherwise. Now the remaining beams would just need finished and put into place. After that, they're up there for good, like tight-fitting puzzle pieces coming together.

The ladies had come out shortly after us to observe the efforts put forth. Lifting two tanks up into the loft took some time, and when that was completed, visiting took probably as much time if not more. Finally upon leaving the homestead we cruised through a pocket of air colder than we'd seen: it was -30° C (-22° F) out there. Across the miles the temps gradually rose, and back at 5385 Rue Francheville it was around twenty-seven degrees warmer, a relatively balmy +5° F.

It has seemed over the past few days that we go about our activities with the mentality of this or that being "Tyler's last time." His days in Montreal are winding down and no enthusiasm regarding that matter is to be found around here. How quickly the transitions sneak up on us.

Tyler cooked up a mélange of flavors for his last Thursday evening supper with us. We had Cajun shrimp, Belizean fry jacks (to top with pineapple habanero jelly), and glazed sweet potato slices. It's always fun dining on the food the guys come up with week by week.  We'd just finished up on that when the front door opened and in came Arnaud. He accepted the offer of finishing off what was left of the supper. Shortly after, the kettle of oil on the stovetop was reheated and the guys made fried Oreos for a dessert, a first for me and quite an interesting take on those cookies. Then the kitchen was cleaned up and the three guys spent some quality time getting into a game around the table. 

♦ ♦ ♦

We had a good morning at Welcome Hall on Friday. We walked in to see Darrel Ensz's smiling face. He's come a couple times now and as before he filled a position at a station handing out groceries. Right now he's not on a regular schedule but can randomly sign up for shifts when he desires. Chrissy Krahn's mom-in-law Betty was along with Chrissy again. She has come several times during here seven-week stay in Montreal, and this was the last time as she travels home to Abbotsford, BC next week. 

We met the Alexandria group Friday evening at a spot in Station Bonaventure for the singing. We were the first ones up to that area which we found quite filthy, and there were a few homeless souls in the corners of that area. We had just come past many more hanging out on the mezzazine level outside the wickets. I'm not sure I'd seen so many in a station before just like that. Presently the Krahn's appeared up the escalators, Cal & Chrissy and Betty, come to take in our concert. Karlos & Heidi Isaac and the Alexandria youth arrived a few minutes after that and the harmony was underway. That spot always sings well, and thankfully that's something neither grime nor odors can necessarily affect. A good many people passed, some stopped for a few minutes, and our audience of three sang along. Betty sure seemed to enjoy it. "I knew most of the songs," she said afterward. 

Toward the end of the hour I took the bored Julian and Alec on a walk down through the station to see trains go by below or just walk around. Quite a few Constable Spécial officers in the station through the evening working to get the homeless people on the move out of the station. A couple of those folks raised quite a fuss on their way out. We headed out a different corridor where there's another harp sign on the wall and a guy was there setting up to sing. We went out to the entrance and by the time we came back he was tuning his guitar. A small bowl of candy in front of him caught the boys' eyes of course which he offered them to choose a piece. We hung around then as he started strumming and singing, "On a long and lonesome highway, east of Omaha..." Alec soon wanted to run off and find mommy but we stayed until the last soft notes sprang from the strings, then applauded his song before heading back down into the station.

Supper was held here at CPS after that. Galilee had come again to help with the singing and rode here with Darrel's. House mama had cooked up seven pounds of hamburger & onions for tostadas and it sure looked like a lot. Leftovers of this kind shouldn't be hard to use up later on, of course. We thought back to the first time we'd hosted the Alexandria youth and how the food diminished at a marvelous rate, all but disappearing in the first round. We had seriously underestimated. Well, would you know. It was a fair size group this time but not everybody, and yet the same thing happened, re-establishing the fact that overestimating by a good margin is a safe bet when hosting Alexandria. Everyone had enough all the same. 

The youth filled up the downstairs while Darrel's, Karlos's, Galilee, and we enjoyed good conversations upstairs. I tested my French with Galilee later on with a good bit of conversation and he determined I'm somewhere around A2-A3 in proficiency. He would know, having grown up with the language. I thought I was maybe past the beginner stage just a little, but the more I learn, the more vast the language seems to grow. Language proficiency has four general aspects: two comprehension (listening, reading) and two expression (speaking, writing). At this point I feel stronger in comprehension than expression. I've taken various proficiency tests and come up with quite different scores, so my real-time position on the CEFR scale is really, really vague.

The couples left toward a late hour, and the youth downstairs sang together for a while. Seems rare that happens, and it was a pleasant backdrop to the end of our evening.  

♦ ♦ ♦

Saturday was low-key. I fried up a bunch of crépes for a late breakfast, and the guys went off exploring Old Port for a few hours in the afternoon. We got some things done around the house and a small shopping trip accomplished. We might be a small unit at this point but the volume of groceries we go through is remarkable, with doing things like metro singing suppers, monthly potlucks, and other random things. Tyler and Micah came back and sometime after seven we left to eat supper out ("last time with Tyler"). He didn't pick any exotic restaurant and was easy with whatever. 

We decided smoked meat would be good again. And not far away is Jarry Smoked Meat which I'd say is as good as Schwartz's or Snowdon Deli. Jarry Smoked Meat has a large dining area and it was busier than other time's we've been there. A large birthday party group taking up a quarter of the space contributed to that, as well as to the overall noise in the place. Many families had gathered so there were lots of kids. At one point someone struck up Happy Birthday and all the merry group joined in on whatsoever pitch of the scale they chose, so it was more like a roaring chant followed by even more noise. We dined well on smoked meat sandwiches, piles of that flaky sliced brisket stacked between rye bread and dressed with mustard. That meat is seasoned and smoked in the Montreal fashion and honestly I'm not sure if this exact specialty is replicated anywhere else. If you come to this city, give it a try. 

After an inspiring church service together we had the pleasure of sharing dinner back at the house with the family that came from Alexandria, Misael & Dianna Pimentel and their two children. They moved to Ontario a couple years ago from Saltillo, Mexico, hoping to stay indefinitely. However his work permit will be expiring this year, and now there is a requirement that if they were to revisit Mexico, they would need a visa to return to Canada. That means also that nobody could come and visit from Mexico without one. Sometime this next summer they will be moving back. It's a disappointment but at the same time it's probably a little enthusing for the family to look forward to migrating to the warmer climate and homeland. They won't be returning to Saltillo though, but have another destination farther south in mind. 

Misael speaks English well, and Dianna a very small bit. No problem though; Sabrina was glad for some Spanish practice, and Micah (who spent three years in El Salvador with his family a decade ago) conversed quite a bit with them at the dinner table. Nobody thought much of the slight language barrier, as we had a good and jolly time all the same. Cheerful and genial folks, they will be missed here in the northland when they go.

Another friend walked in the door that evening. The Roxton youth meeting was held here at CPS for a change (I think this time around it happened to be more convenient that way). I think I was absently stirring sugar into tea brew at the bar when the group of youth guys came in the door. I heard a different voice and looked up to see a hand reaching out to me, the hand of none other than Dietrich Nikkel. I knew he had arrived in Roxton Falls just recently to stay with Steve & Shandele Penner and work at tapping maple trees out in the forests over the next couple weeks, but it was a fun surprise to see him again in a sudden manner. It was a mighty handshake followed by a hug and then all kinds of catching up to do! 

(If you have been reading my entries over the past year you might remember that this young guy from Mountain Grove, MO came to Montreal to fill in for a volunteer who went home early. Dietrich is a former CPS boy himself so he was glad for the chance to jump back into this life for a brief stay. He was here last April from the 2nd to the 18th, much too short it seemed but good memories were made.)

There were no youth girls here due to some still on trips and things. The youth leaders, Gary Nichols and Kevin Penner came without their wives. From around 6:30 to 7:15 youth meeting convened in the living room, the main feature being thoughts shared on a topic of "The Kingdom of Peace." Darrel & Natalie showed up during that time and Galilee was with them. The group sang a few songs at the end, then all dug into some good snack prepared. There was a lot of fun and interesting discussion on various topics with Gary and Kevin and whoever else was listening in. I spent some more time catching up with Dietrich throughout the evening and it was good for the soul. It's been a long time since I've laughed so well. I'll put it this way, if you know Dietrich Nikkel, you know. 

We sent our remaining bag of La Cocina tortilla chips home with him to snack on throughout the coming days (and later we stocked up again, he wants to try taking a couple bags back to MO with him). There's only one place in all of Montreal we've ever seen those addictive chips, and while of course we haven't gone to every last store on the island to make sure, we did look around a good bit last year before rediscovering that certain Walmart in Montreal North. 

Monday was normal except for a change in schedule for the guys. Every Tuesday afternoon they have been volunteering at the Habitat for Humanity ReStore; and now in about a month's time that store will be closing down. The coordinator had reached out to me with that news and wondering if they could have extra help each week between now and then, so we arranged that Tyler and Micah would spend Monday mornings there, before moving on to their regular activities of visiting a couple elderly people downtown who still live at home, and serving supper at a soup kitchen. So the guys were out of the house early. 

It was another cold day and a brisk wind swirled snow off rooftops and tugged at the Tempos set up over driveways. I guarantee if it wasn't for those shelters being anchored to the ground, those things would surely take off like kites or at least go bounding down the street. My assumption that city suburbs would be relatively calm was swept away by the winds that roared through St. Léonard that evening, winds that would rival the winter blasts that whistle around a familiar church house standing in the middle of a Pennsylvania valley. 

All of a sudden that evening our whole block went dark. Maybe it was caused by a falling tree or branch, who knows. It didn't stop us from getting in the van with our shopping bags and grocery list. I disengaged and pulled up the garage door and we were on our way. In the IGA parking lot we waited a little bit just feeling our van rocking around in the gale. Julian found it frightening; Alec was, at the most, curious.* Carefully we exited the van without the doors flying away and hurried into the warm and relatively empty store. We got home at the same time as Tyler and Micah, glad to see all the lights on again. Here, everyone relies on electricity for heat so it seems like the companies really prioritize the performance of the whole system. And as long as these cold northern rivers keep flowing, there is plenty of hydropower for everyone. 

♦ ♦ ♦

*Their differences often amaze me. If ever I leave them in the van to run into a shop for a couple minutes, Julian will most likely be sobbing when I return, in spite of my reminders beforehand to say a little prayer for bravery. (Sometimes that has worked.) Alec will invariably remain as he had been all along, clutching his blanket or stuffed animal and big eyes watching the world go by, never giving a thought to the possibility that he could be afraid. 

One more run to the airport to pick up the new guy, the last CPS boy transition while we are here. How can it be? Riley Enns of Taylor, BC flew in sometime after 9:00 p.m., the flight being delayed a bit. "I had a good view of the city," he said later. "It was a good time to fly in." Tyler opted to stay home and get a head start on sleep while Micah and the boys rode with me to the airport. We waited around in the arrivals until suddenly figuring out there was a separate arrivals for Canadian flights, so we trucked over there and spent more time waiting. 

There's nothing quite like scanning a crowd to find someone you don't even know and have never seen. This waiting area was in sight of the baggage claim so we could observe the crowd gathered at the belt but couldn't pick out any one prospect. The airport was busy and quite a few young families were milling about with their things. Many others were toting ski & snowboard bags. Julian thought it was hilarious that two little wheels were on the bottom end of each bag and wondered what they were for.

At last we noticed someone coming along the flow of people, a young guy with snug maroon pants, a tan jacket, scarf, flat cap, and dark glasses. My word, if he didn't fit right in with that getup, looking like a Montrealer off the bat. He glanced over and came our way, soon confirming our unspoken question: "Is this our guy?" 

Riley Enns: 19 years old, blond hair and blue eyes*, friendly and easygoing. He's an ENFP-T on the 16 Personalities, a "Campaigner." Not so uncommon around here it seems; Caleb Saul was one, and so is my good wife.

*Only one CPS boy in our year here had brown eyes, and that was Sam Reimer, the Haitian. Since then it's been blue (and gray) eyes, and Riley is the fifth in a streak of Nordic young bucks to come serve in Montreal. And if I know anything about the future, there are a few more of those in line.

Tyler left with Micah for the last day of volunteering, riding along on furniture deliveries for four families in Montreal. Not long after, Riley and I bundled up and walked out to the bus station. Snow was flying and it didn't take long to feel the chill, in spite of double or more layers of various garments. The express bus we waited for continued falling behind schedule so we jumped on a regular 32 South bus and rode to Station Cadillac in comfort. 

We traveled down the green line to Guy Concordia, and popping out the correct metro entrance we turned a corner to enter the office building where EBM (Entraide Bénévole Métro) is found. Once again, this is the organization through which the guys are assigned different elderly folks to go visit on Mondays. We knocked on the door right before 10:00 a.m. and were welcomed in for Riley's orientation given by Rhiana. 

Then we tramped down the snowy sidewalks along Boulevard de Maisonneuve Ouest to seek out a coffee shop I usually visit on such a day as this, before or after EBM orientations. Stepping into the warmth my glasses immediately fogged over so it took a bit to locate the small shelves where bags of beans are available, and grabbed two upon the request of house mama. Then we each ordered a hot chocolate. The young lass making the drinks spoke so softly it was hard to know just what or whose it was she had set up on the countertop, until she put the second cup beside it and seeing our hesitation, turned up the volume. "Two hot chocolates." We grabbed the drinks with gratitude and returned up the street among guys busy with shovels and snowblowers, clearing the sidewalks around there. It felt really cold with all that wind, in the concrete and glass canyons of the downtown. 

Two stops back up the green line we jumped off at McGill to go and find that good brick oven pizza restaurant, Il Focolaiao. This restaurant sits along one side of Philips Square with quite a variety of architecture to explore with your gaze, from a 19th century Gothic Revival church to the modern glass towers that dwarf it. We sat down at a small table toward noon and as at other times, the rest of the available seating filled up quickly. We pored over the pizza menu with 77 different options, not to mention sides of calzones and salads, and settled for number 16, the Gambaretti pizza with sauce, shrimp, fresh garlic, mozzarella, and fresh parsley. Neither of us were exactly ravenous so we split the thing in half. There's such a vibe in that place, all the cheerful talk and laughter, the smiling workers, the Italian dudes at the back of the shop busy dressing and shoveling pizzas in and out of the flickering cavern of an oven, and of course those marvelous flavors on your tongue. 

We walked back to the metro station by way of an entrance into the underground shopping centers, then took the trains up to Station Sauvé which isn't too far from Welcome Collective. It wasn't a long visit, just stopping by to say hi to Flavia and spend a couple minutes with Charles. Sometime after we had gone, and when Tyler and Micah came back from the delivery, they had Tyler's farewell party like they love to do. Before Flavia came onboard with Welcome Collective, sounds like not much of that sort used to happen. She's organized so many parties that apparently at a recent meeting it was laid out that the frequency of merrymaking would need to be limited to one time a month or something like that. How those South American women love a good time, and who doesn't, so naturally everyone else joins in. 

All of us went over to the mission house for supper with Darrel's and Galilee so that was a good time. Some tract shuffling took place downstairs afterward as the time got later and the kids got wilder. The week has been a little crazy for us all but somehow the children seem to express it best. Of course they wind up rather than wind down, with someone new around and the prospect of a good friend going home. Some interesting things took place downstairs at CPS later, like the green water hose snaking in from the garage, the nozzle positioning itself at the opened bathroom door, and a jet of fresh cold water launching on in to destroy the mood of a warm shower in progress. 

In spite of a short night we rose early enough to make some breakfast and have it together, in an effort to leave the house around 7:15 to take Tyler to the aéroport. We coaxed Julian and Alec out of bed so they could go along too. With heavy traffic most of the way down we ended up spending an hour on the road. It was a clear and shining morning, but also somewhere around -2° F. 

The year has gone by in short phases it seems and Alec came up with names for some of them. As guys come and go and our boys get to know them, they become fairly attached but seem to say goodbye easily enough. It doesn't seem long ago that we were in the "Saul/Ty-ty" phase, then it was "Ty-ty/Micah," and now we enter the "Micah/Riley" phase, our last one. 

We've enjoyed having a California guy around and picking up on new words and phrases. What are they, surfer lingo? Julian and Alec's favorite one seemed to be the greeting, "What up, homie-dawg," usually accompanied by a hand motion. And another line so strange he had to interpret it for us. "We're going to get pi-i-itted on that gnarly barrel." Certainly west coast slang, considering a barrel is a wave. Other fun adjectives popped out from time to time. 

After finding a spot in the parking garage the four of us accompanied him into the terminal, helping bring the luggage to the checkin, and eventually said our goodbyes. Au revoir, Monsieur Friesen! Thanks for being a part of our Montreal story. 

We made a couple stops on the way home and were backing into the tempo right as his plane was roaring into the skies, 10:54 a.m. "Goodbye," we said aloud.

Hang loose, bruh. And go get pitted on that gnarly barrel. 

It may have been this way before, but for some reason it seems rare. Nowadays one might catch a glimpse of three different hats perched atop three guys who are sauntering by on the way to the bus stop, or riding the metro down the island, or racing up the legendary flight of 78 steps in the St. Henri metro station. These guys, as different as their hats, are often seen together, especially on a Tuesday or a Friday morning. All three from CPS, wearing their chapeau of choice; one a navy blue beret, one a beige flat cap, and one a black duckbill.

I enjoy being among comrades who have a taste for this accessory which has largely disappeared compared to past times. Hats are still fashionable in cities of course. One acquaintance who keeps up with my entries on here recently asked, "Is that common to wear hats up there?" If I think about it, I see fewer hats around than I would have expected. Quite a few men here do, and a lot more don't (again, aside from winter wear). Also you'll see a sprinkling of flat-brim baseball caps and such. Wearing my duckbill for most of a year now, it seems strange to think of switching back to the style of caps that I've worn and liked. (It even looks strange.) How much to surrounding cultures influence personal taste? 

Not long after he came, Micah found a beret to his liking at the Gank boutique in the St. Henri neighborhood, not far from Welcome Hall Mission. It pairs well with his trench coat and scarf. Riley told me he got his beige flat cap in Paris, while on a European trip with a buddy. "I wore it for a lot of that trip," he said. "Back home it really stuck out and I didn't wear it much." Here in Montreal of course it is mode. 

"I wish I could say that about my hat," I told him. I have yet to visit Paris. My duckbill was fourteen bucks from Amazon.