Juillet 2024

Canada Day: festivities, picnics, pool parties, celebration all around. I used to have some vague idea that July 1 is Canada's counterpart of July 4 in the USA, and in a sense it is, but it was on this date in 1867 that Canada became its own dominion. Routines at CPS continued as normal, as it doesn't really affect the boys' activities for the afternoon and evening. Larger celebrations happened through the afternoon in the Old Port with fireworks at 10:00 p.m. but the four of us never made the journey down the island.

We went for an afternoon walk to drop some mail in the box at Jean Coutu, and as usual there were activities in the nearby Wilfrid-Bastien park so we walked on. There were bounce houses, food, a large Snakes & Ladders game rolled out on the grass, and other fun things. Children were absolutely everywhere. Some young folks monitored the bounce houses and had the children form lines for their turns, as too many kids on an inflatable wouldn't be a workable idea. Julian had great fun trying out one of those a couple times. There was something musical happening in the pavilion, with someone walking around on the stage entertaining a crowd of youngsters. Usually, music with heavy rhythms are played in this place but this time it was soft and harmonic. A couple times the verse and refrain of O Canada in French was played for everyone around the pavilion to sing along. Tiny flags were passed among the children on the stage to wave as they sang. 

We walked beyond to the splash pad and the boys enjoyed that a while. We watched on a nearby bench. Truly, it couldn't have been a more beautiful day for a holiday. Imagine -- perfect sunshine, occasional planes tracing a trackless path down through a clear sky, fountains squirting, a score of kids splashing and shouting among them, the whole park full of families and friends, and ambient music on the air. For a moment time seemed to fade and it was suddenly a moment in Paradise. So much happiness in the air. 

The splash park is such a fun place to watch children. On any random occasion there are some of every kind from timid to fearless. First off, our boys: Julian who runs erratically and fearfully among the jets, eventually getting soaked but not in the all-out manner of the neighborhood kids; and Alec, well he just runs around but mostly on the outskirts and usually is carrying some odd object and periodically prancing around with it. There are always a few girls who stand in the midst of shooting water with eyes scrunched shut, getting hit as much as possible and running to the next jets that turn on. Then there's always that one chunky boy who finds such joy in totally suppressing a fountain by sitting on it.  It is quite entertaining, all in all.

We thought to venture out later and do some shopping if possible but had doubts that supermarkets would be open, but would you know, most if not all were! First I was surprised, and then I thought, oh, but this is Quebec. They're proudly Canadian (who doesn't want another holiday to celebrate), but they're even more proudly Quebecois. Last Monday on Quebec Day almost everything was shut down. So that was great, we were able to load up with stuff at a couple markets and deposit it all back at the house. 

We spent the evening at home, then, and the boys played in the backyard a while and watched the neighbors having their party. On the patio they can just peep over the fence and somehow it is forever intriguing. Not much else happened except we burned up a few old sparklers found in the kitchen cupboard. First I did a bunch with Julian and then we saved three for Alec to enjoy as he was still having a bath. Sabrina brought him out and he got to hold one as it sizzled away. Not much was seen in the backyard after that except for Julian kicking a soccer ball and Alec ripping back and forth over the grass with nothing but a hula hoop around him. Somehow the bath towel had ceased to accompany him early on in this sport.

That was the extent of our Fête du Canada.

8695 Boulevard Viau. This Salon de Coiffure Pour Hommes is in the middle of the strip of shops between Boulevard Robert and Rue Valéry. Not everyone that comes through CPS patronizes this shop, but many have over the years and I've been one of them. The barbers give good cuts at a reasonable price and it's just a ten minute walk from the house, so what's there to lose? 

Not much has changed from my memory. The Italian folks are friendly and easy-going. I definitely remember Sam, Tony, and Gino, they've been around for a while. The ladies may have joined the business more recently. They do good business there and on fuller days, most or all the crew will be at work in the shop. 

Down the sunny sidewalks we go, Julian trotting beside me. It's time for a haircut for both of us. The shop is quieter this afternoon so only Gino and Oksana are there waiting for customers. A couple older men sit inside keeping Gino company, and eventually he steps out the door for a smoke and offers a cigarette to one of his buddies. They frame the doorway, talking and watching the world go by. 

Indoors it's cool and quiet, with only the hum of air conditioning in the background and the buzz of the clippers. This is one of those rare times in Julian's life where he sits still as a statue, staring back at the activity in the mirror. He only jumps a little when water is sprayed on his hair, whoosh whoosh. Then it's the scissors, snip snip snip. Oksana is quick and precise and the cut is done in no time flat. 

She never says much. She comes from eastern Europe and doesn't speak English; I imagine her native tongue is Ukrainian or Russian. So for us, French is the lingua franca. (For more on lingua franca, read the May 31 entry.) I'm glad for some French basics, but I really need to brush up on barbershop lingo.

She does my cut after Julian's, a quick fade around the back and sides, leaving the top untouched. No worries, I'm not going bald! It's just that the previous haircut had been much too short. It bugged me for a while but I decided a reset may as well be beneficial, et voilà, we're getting back on track. Deftly she smears shaving cream and out comes the straight-edge razor to define the perimeters. Scrape scrape scrape. The razor clatters in the sink as she rinses her fingers. Next comes aftershave, and last of all the big black powder brush poofing around my neck and ears. She whisks the cape off and hands my glasses back. Her handiwork comes into focus in the mirror. "Oui j'aime ça, merci beaucoup!"

Moments later we're out in the sunshine, walking past the small restaurants, the nail salon, the boulangerie in the corner, and out around Dollarama to the sidewalks that lead back into our neighborhood.

♦ ♦ ♦

(https://montrealbarbershop.ca/en/) 

Generally if we eat out together it's on Saturday somewhere downtown. Today was Jon's 26th birthday so he chose an Afghan restaurant down the island. Restaurant Aryana is a small, unassuming nook with a quiet atmosphere and a husband and wife running the whole show, but it boasts 4.4 out of 5 stars across 260 reviews if that tells you anything. They serve three different meats in their dishes: chicken, lamb, and beef. We ordered our plates and an appetizer, and my word, if that wasn't some amazing food! Try Middle Eastern food sometime if you haven't.

After that we headed home and took some cupcakes and ice cream to the park for a continuation of the birthday party with Regan's. Thankfully the rain showers held off until we were pretty well done.

♦ ♦ ♦

(https://www.google.com/maps/place/Restaurant+Aryana/@45.5043312,-73.8210444,17z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m6!3m5!1s0x4cc93ca81a6467c7:0xb67721f56cbd50d9!8m2!3d45.5043275!4d-73.8184695!16s%2Fg%2F1hc4yj19z?entry=ttu) 

It was a feast we had Thursday evening, shrimp tacos and Mexican rice put on by Saul. He invited some friends from Roxton Falls to join us. It was the Toews family, Marc & Gayle and sons Matthew and Jeremy, the youngest of their children. Somewhere they have come to be called "the trees." All the family is blessed with good stature so the name is a natural fit. 

Somehow the supper hour conversation got on that topic and after that the puns in reference to their title kept coming out of the woodwork, so to speak. Marc said something about turning over a new leaf. Later he suggested we could sing a little after supper, and I told him I sure wouldn't mind hearing some wind in the trees. 

We guys sang in the kitchen a short while, first some of those awesome French songs out of the Célébrons Dieu, the older round-note hymnal. "Oh! prends mon âme." "Seigneur, que n'ai-je mille voix." (One takeaway from that: "Singing round notes, well, it's SO-SO.") English songs were sung after that and time slipped away. It was another good time with those fine singers. 

Julian and I were finishing up on watering the yards when a Chrysler van rolled down Rue Francheville. It was the Anthony family from Homeworth, OH: Paul & Abby (Jon's sister) and their three children, Carson, Kianna, Jenna. As always it's interesting getting to know the family of our guys, little by little! There was some time to chat and prepare before heading off to metro singing. We parked at St. Michel, rode the whole way down the blue line, and then one stop up on the orange to Côte-Sainte-Catherine. Roxton Falls couldn't make it so it was just us all and Regan's up in that sort of noisy, sort of warm singing spot. Caitlin served supper back at the mission house so we enjoyed an evening in the backyard together. 

Mile End, Montreal. These streets are looking familiar, I guarantee I was here last summer while exploring the neighborhood for a spot to park. It's more of a challenge as the city continues opening more bike lanes and discouraging more vehicles. 

Well, the restaurant is on up there but I see no parking. Let's check down this street. Go past me, biker. I make room and they roll by, a guy and his girlfriend on one bike. Somehow she's perched behind him, no idea how she's doing it. Ah, there's a spot. But the cars along here have a numbered sector sticker on the back window. Yup, there's the sign. I guess I'll do it anyway. Well, I guess not. Surely there's another close by.

We circle the block. There's one! The sign above only references the certain day when the street is cleaned. The four of us climb out and we're ready to walk off when I see the other sign. Oops. This also is sectored parking. But there's an open spot around the corner, quelle chance! The Pilot eases around the corner. Just enough room. Bon. 

The Anthony's, Miller, and Saul are waiting for us in the restaurant. Air conditioning can go only so far when a brick oven occupies a corner, so it's a little warm but aromatic. The windows to the street are slid back so maybe that is helping a little. The music is loud and most tables are occupied. 

There's nothing like wood-fired pizza to boost the soul. We order four different pizzas to share and at the end only a quarter is left. After supper the four of us head home while the rest seek higher ground, to look over the city as evening falls.

♦ ♦ ♦

(https://www.pizzeriamagpie.com/english) 

"Sometimes, it's not the lyrics of the song that make you emotional. It's the faces and places that flood your mind when you hear it."

♦ ♦ ♦

The small sanctuary filled up this evening with visitors from Roxton Falls and Alexandria to take part in a program on the topic of The Still, Small Voice. It was inspiring to hear the parts that were brought, with a few songs by the youth at the end. The first two were good old Praise Hymnal numbers, songs that I know word for word. As a listener, somewhere a phrase often resonates in a special way and rouses a prickling sensation. Doesn't matter who is singing; those numbers will always remind me of good times I've known.

"And as He stands in victory,

Sin's curse has lost its grip on me;

For I am His, and He is mine,

Bought with the precious blood of Christ."

We probably won't park near the intersection of Rue Ontario and Avenue Desjardins again unless we want to come back to that Value Village or randomly wish to drive through there. First we had followed Boulevard Pie-IX down past the botanical gardens and Olympic buildings, and it narrowed to two lanes down past the metro station. The other side of the boulevard was all torn up with big equipment moving around and doing their thing. The thrift store was across all that. 

We looped around a different street and found parking not far from the store and spent a good while in there. We took a bag full of stuff to donate and left with another bag full. I managed to find some good dressy pants for under five bucks and she found a couple toys for the boys. She even found a couple fashionable sweaters that ended up staying on the racks. Thrift shopping is her love language. 

We were out of there shortly after 7:15 and walked out to see a part of the street blocked off and flashing with a row of fire trucks and emergency workers, with the Honda Pilot neatly trapped in the middle of it all! I had parked it right in front of an apartment building that up and had a fire inside. I was glad they didn't have to tow the vehicle for any reason. We walked up to the tape and sat down some steps to wait. 

A few interesting characters were hanging around watching the whole affair. At one point, they return from around a corner carrying and munching on baguettes. And behold, down the side street, part of which is permanently closed to traffic, there was a large bag on a picnic table just stuffed with baguettes and nobody around it. Sabrina gathered the courage to ask the one guy if they were free. "Yes they're free, and they're fresh!" Off she went and grabbed a couple. It was like biblical manna showing up just when we needed it. The boys and I chowed down on savory sourdough. Later we saw some folks helping themselves to the bread, most of which looked homeless so Sabrina was starting to feel bad. But there had been others taking bread too, not only the homeless. I personally felt it was providential. We ended up waiting around out there for a good 45 minutes and we still had groceries to shop for yet. Blessed baguettes. 

Although we waited a while I think the main action had already happened before we'd come. Little by little the crews got their stuff and themselves loaded back up in the fire trucks and away they went. Then it was open for us to go jump in the Pilot and that was the end of the episode. 

We did our grocery shopping at Super C after that, and finally I got to see that one worker there Sabrina often talks about; in whose eyes she always finds such good favor (to her dismay) and who can't seem to shake the desire to strike up a friendship. Honestly from her past descriptions I had visualized some sort of a creep, so I was mildly surprised when my expectations didn't line up with reality. All the same, it was I who did the shopping in that corner of the market while she made herself scarce to another part.

Parc Wilfrid-Bastien fills up with folks from all over Saint-Léonard, toting camp chairs to set up on the lawn in view of the stage put up for Montreal's Orchestre Métropolitain. Boulevard Lacordaire, the south boundary of the park, is blocked off to traffic for the event. 

"One of Quebec’s leading cultural ambassadors, the Orchestre Métropolitain de Montréal was founded in 1981 on a bold gamble: that the best way to promote symphonic music is by creating strong ties with the public." 

One way is by offering free events in parks around Montreal throughout the summer, and this concert is the first of the season. 

Up on the stage, the black-clad musicians are all playing softly. There's no rhyme or reason as nobody is together, they're all practicing parts individually to warm up, resulting in a soft chaos of notes. Then it's seven-thirty and first there are about ten minutes of intruduction and thanks to different folks and you name it. After that a violinist in the front faces the string musicians and plays a tone while they all tune their instruments to it. Then the conductor mounts her small platform front and center of the orchestra to applause from the audience and introduces the first few pieces. 

Everyone is silent as she raises her hands, which gracefully begin to describe a tempo in the air. Her energy is fascinating to watch, as she cues music out of the ensemble with all her movements. Watch her baton -- it is forever floating and dancing. Sometimes with swift and dramatic moves she summons great volume and excitement from the whole orchestra, and soon after with the softest gestures she gently cues a delicate passage from the winds. Then the bows rise and fall together over the strings again, and again. Some parts are slow and dream-like, some are rapid and joyful. There is wonderful precision in such a presentation. 

There are a couple interludes while all the strings tune to the lead player, and then the conductor introduces the next few pieces. For an hour and a half the music spills through the park, across the ponds where the geese are swimming, out through the quiet streets beyond. A breathtaking sky crowns the evening as the folks all stand for the last ovation, fold up their camp chairs, and scatter for the night.

♦ ♦ ♦

(https://orchestremetropolitain.com/en/concerts/the-om-alfresco-2024/?program_mode=0) 

It doesn't seem all that often that we're all just around the house for the evening. We had made a quick run to Costco later in the morning and got the stuff unloaded while the downpour increased. Then there was bulk meat to repackage and find places for in the freezer downstairs while the boys took naps. The guys returned tired out and wet from their day as we cooked up some Applebee's Crispy Orange Chicken to go over baked rice with sautéed veggies and a sweet & spicy glaze. It really hit the spot. 

Later on house mama brewed some Earl Grey tea for London fog drinks while the rest of us relaxed. Caleb and I read and Jon entertained the boys. It was pleasant to get lost in the world of Arthurian legends for a while. Julian stayed up late too and played his new favorite game, "credit cards," with house mama. It's his name for checkers, and although she had frustration trying to teach him the real objective and strategies of the game, it was more or less an "anything goes" checkers. He would advance one black mover and then snatch one of her red pieces from a random part of the board. When the game came down to two black and one red left, he simply captured the last red piece without bothering to move one of his. Oh the cunning of a three-year-old.

There was more heavy rain throughout the morning, and one thing was certain if nothing else: our yards were as well-watered as anyone's. They measure rain in millimeters in Canada and it sounds like this hurricane set new records, at least for the days it was over us. Some parts of the island received up to 100 millimeters or 3.9 inches so there was some flooding, stranded traffic, and all that good stuff, and thankfully not in our neighborhood. The great outdoors felt so fresh and alive when the rains were finally over. 

After supper put on by the guys we had another low-key evening of reading and random things. We actually did play a game together. There's a load of them in a small closet in the office, waiting to be enjoyed. "Let this night go down in history as the first time we played a game," declared house mama after a round of Balderdash. It was already about 11:00 and it hardly seemed we'd gone very far into this hilarious, imaginative activity. I guess we'll have to do more of this sometime.

It was a full Friday as usual, with volunteering at Welcome Hall in the morning and then the evening activities. My task for a change was welcoming clients into the market. It was fun because I could practice simple French conversation with most of them. 

"Bonjour, hello!"

"Bonjour!" 

She hands me the colored ticket assigned at the check-in, which reflects the size of the family and the amount of food she'll be given.

"Comment ça va, madame?" 

I fold the ticket and stick it in the top of the grocery cart where it will be visible to the other volunteers.

"Ça va très bien, et vous?" 

"Oui, ça va bien, merci." 

I wait a bit while she puts her bags inside the cart, ready to fill with groceries, then direct her toward the line to the right. There are two lines; I'll send the next client to the left.

"D'accord, vous pouvez passer à droite s'il vous plaît." 

"Merci!"

"Bienvenue, et bonne journée."

"Merci, à vous aussi."

An exchange like this might sound exotic if French is unfamiliar to you, but it's very basic and was the average conversation through the morning. 

Some people said, "Hola!" and asked if I spoke Spanish. 

"Non désolé, anglais et français."

One Russian woman spoke neither but had a paper with a message written in English to show me.

A few thousand clients come through the Welcome Hall market every week, and a majority are at least bilingual. One young man was curious if I was French.

"Non, je suis anglais." But then he wondered if I came from Europe.

"Non, je viens des États-Unis."

Thank you, Pimsleur French, for teaching me Parisian pronunciation. I obviously don't sound like a Québécois yet.

♦ ♦ ♦

The guys and I met Regan's at Station Bonaventure around 5:00 p.m. for Metro singing. After parting ways, we ran to the airport yet to pick up Casey and Tom, two friends of Jon's from Pecos. 

We all met up for supper in the backyard at CPS, devoured Navajo tacos and fruit salad, and drank a great quantity of horchata. Mosquitos drove us all indoors by and by. It turned into a late night but eventually the guys got air mattresses and bedding arranged in the basement for the visitors.

The four guys were out of the house bright and early to find breakfast at a bagel shop and on to whatever adventures the day might hold for them. The rest of us had a very low-key morning. For a late brunch we visited Coco Frutti along Rue Jean-Talon, just ten minutes from home. From the variety of delightful options on the menu we chose a couple crepes: a Bacon & Cheddar and a Frutti. Julian shared some of the bacon & cheddar (along with some hot chocolate) and Alec chowed down on some fruit. 

It seemed like a very classy restaurant and it had a good vibe. Restaurants are enjoyable, but with young and energetic offspring the whole idea changes a little. You know it's time to wrap things up at any mealtime when Alec turns to his favorite activity: creating combinations of tidbits and water. When it comes to eating out, often it seems the most relaxing part of the experience is walking out the door. But this was a good restaurant and we were glad we came.

♦ ♦ ♦

(https://cocofrutti.com/en/) 

The guys and the visitors stayed in the city for the afternoon and evening and the four of us went out to Roxton Falls for a service. Usually it's on the third Sunday that we go out there in the evening, but this was a special occasion -- a baptismal service for Anna Deeva, the daughter of Dmitri & Luba here in Montreal. Regan's had doctrine classes with her, and this service might have taken place here but our sanctuary is much too small to host that many. 

So we gathered with others at the church house in the woods, its windows open to the soft evening and fans turning to move the air inside. We sang a song together, listened to a short introduction, and then Anna held the floor for most of the evening relating her journey of faith. It was one interesting story. I wish I could write out a concise rundown but there were so many interesting details you'll have to hear it from her yourself sometime.

She grew up going to church but had a very vague perception of God. "I thought He was just like this little man up in the sky." Nor did she understand what new birth was, and whenever she heard the story of Nicodemus she too wondered how one could be born again. As she grew older she became a bit of a rebel and her life grew miserable. It got worse when a close friend experienced a change of heart and would no longer go along with Anna in the kind of talk and activities they used to share. The special attention and inclusion her friend and others found among other churchgoers after baptism grated on her besides. She decided to go talk to the pastor and asked to be baptized. He had been acquainted with her for many years and was glad to put her down on the list for next time. 

Then the pandemic came along and the baptism was pushed off longer and longer until there would be a larger group of young people to be baptized. Meanwhile the questions in her heart motivated her to read the Bible for herself, and the deeper she went, the more things she saw that contradicted the practices of that church. Somewhere in there she came to the end of herself and just started talking to God one night, and her life was changed. She realized she no longer wanted to be baptized in that church, and that it were better not to be baptized than to join a church that wasn't following the Bible. She talked to the pastor about that and he was angry. 

There were other times when the young folks were with the pastor and sometimes he'd get going about something, and Anna enjoyed provoking him with questions on whatever the topic was. One particular time he was talking about different churches that in his mind were false churches, and the worst of all, an altogether spiritually dead church, was the one called the Holdeman Mennonites. So she asked him questions about this church in particular because he'd get so fired up about it. Later, she took a list of all the churches he had talked about and researched them online. Only one of those churches was in Montreal, and it was the little church on Rue Jarry. 

Time passed and her desire to visit this church grew. In a sense it was more for a story to tell her friends, about her visit to this "bad" church. So one time she visited our church with her parents and after that, returned only once to their former church. There was still a journey ahead for her and many struggles. Eventually she moved to Roxton Falls to take some schooling there, and then more recently, she began taking doctrine classes. At first it was a burden but as she learned the teachings and saw how they align with the Bible, her enthusiasm only grew. 

And now, tonight, she was telling her story. Again there are many more details and it was enjoyable hearing her tell them in her eloquent way. She answered a few questions and all showed their support for her testimony, soon she was baptized, and the service finally came to a close. It was a beautiful time.

Marie-Josée, or "grand-mere," was along for the ride back to Montreal that night. She had kindly agreed to come and spend some time at CPS over the coming day and a half. Julian and Alec loved her entertainment on the ride home. Before descending under the river through the tunnel to Montreal island we could see some of the fireworks from the ongoing show down near Old Port. Tonight was Mexico's turn at the pyrotechnics competition that takes place every summer.

Read on about a romantic day that marked six years since the wedding of my good wife and I. The morning was bright and we were in high spirits. Of course we had to rub it in a little at breakfast. 

"Look out guys, there's looooove in the air!"

Marie-Josée was excited about a day babysitting the little boys for us. We didn't head out right away but got some of the Monday tasks worked on, and left by noon for our adventures. It was a fine day for some, sort of a steamy summer day with cicadas singing in the trees, and we were thankful for the clouds that brought intervals of shade over the land. 

Part 1: The Gardens

First we parked at Cadillac and rode three stops down to Pie-IX, walked up the hill past the monstrosity of the Olympic Stadium, and entered the delightful world of the botanical gardens for a good hour and a half. 

One highlight of the Chinese gardens was sitting up in an airy little pavilion overlooking the water and the landscaping. Many water lilies are blooming in the pond now. 

The Japenese gardens were serene as always, with the colorful fish swimming in the clear ponds and waterfalls in the background.

We walked then in the woods beyond, called the First Nations gardens, down quiet little paths to hidden nooks and a few different places there were hung horizontal beams tied with many fluttering white ribbons. I'm not sure what it symbolized, maybe the spirit of the natural world. 

Beyond that was the marshy pond covered with lily pads and white blooms all over, and a couple young ducks swimming among them. We walked around the pond to a bench under a tree near some Canadian geese hanging out in the shade to keep cool. 

On then to the "flowery brook," an area of flowerbeds laid out along a small stream that empties from the pond. It is always an idyllic place for a stroll, with big oak trees here and there and a few benches among the beauty. It's impossible to walk through there without thinking of paradise, because this is one in itself. 

The trail leads on to the alpine gardens and this time we climbed some random little paths where we hadn't been before due to a stroller with us. The desert flowers were vibrant among the rocks and gravel. 

Last was a tour of the exhibition gardens along the western perimeter of the park, and right now those beds are ablaze with a rainbow of flowers, the most breathtaking display in the park this time of year.  

Part 2: Bixi Bikes

Montreal has a bike sharing system where you can rent bikes at any station and go exploring. "The BIXI network has more than 11,000 bikes (including 2,600 electric BIXIs) and more than 900 stations spread out across the areas of Montreal, Laval, Longueuil, Boucherville, Terrebonne, Sainte-Julie, Westmount, Ville Mont-Royal and Montréal-Est" (from bixi.com). It's something we always wanted to try. 

There are a few stations right near the gardens so we found one and figured out how to unlock a couple bikes. Then off we soared down Rue Rachel on the bike lane for a long way. The only major diversion was a spin through the large Parc La Fontaine which is full of trees, paved trails, and a large pond and fountain (which must be undergoing a slow maintenance process, that part was pretty empty and unattractive). Back on the bike lane we pedaled towards Mont Royal, then followed Rue St. Denis and Rue Berri southward, ending up in Old Port. It was pretty warm but with a good breeze as we biked we thought little of it.

During the ride down into Old Port we remembered what had transpired exactly a year ago. On July 15, 2023, we arrived in Montreal ahead of a CPS reunion and first drove into Old Port for a small romantic stroll along the river celebrating our fifth anniversary. We got that accomplished all right, but my word. Traffic was at less than a crawl that afternoon and we watched with great jealousy all the footloose pedestrians and whizzing bikers going places much faster than we. Who would have thought then that a year later it would be us on those Bixi's breezing down the street past all that traffic. Sweet freedom!

We biked along the river then, from the Clock Tower two and a half kilometers upriver, past the Grand Quay and the first couple water locks on the historic Lachine Canal. It was the first time I'd ever biked in Old Port, and cruising along the boardwalk was a joy. We returned toward the Clock Tower and stopped at a spot where a few random love locks hang on the fence, and e'er we pedaled away another lock had joined the others, six spots to the left of a post. This time it was a plain and heavier lock than the one we hung last year (and it had disappeared in a couple days) so we'll see if this one remains. 

We docked our bikes at the station below Place Jaques Cartier, found a couple refreshing drinks down at the food trucks, and walked up the hillside square to rest a little on a bench. 

Part 3: Cobblestones & the Aura

We had an hour then to walk the familiar streets and find a couple special treasures among the various shops. We thought to visit an art gallery on down St. Paul west of the popular part of town but its doors were locked so after a brief peep in the windows we walked on. Our footsteps wandered through the old city to a heritage building that once was the Royal Bank of Canada. It was nice and cool in there. Sadly, Crew Collective Cafe was closed for the day. We spent a little time at Place d'Armes then, the square in front of the Notre Dame basilica. 

About 5:30 we noticed the line growing quite long already for the 6:00 light show, and as we had tickets for that ourselves we decided to join them. It wasn't long and they started letting people into the church. It was all but pitch black in there so like everyone else we groped around for a good place to sit and soon our eyes adjusted to the dimness. Visitors kept filing in and by the time of the show it was a crowd of hundreds.

"AURA is an immersive light experience created by Moment Factory, set in the heart of Montreal's Notre-Dame Basilica. Immerse yourself in the timeless beauty of the Basilica, acting as both muse and canvas."

On the website you can see a few glimpses of it, but as videotaping or recording of any kind is forbidden, you won't see much of it unless you experience it for yourself. The church is already an incredible work of art, and the light and sound show takes it to another dimension. 

How could I describe the experience? I felt a couple different things throughout the show. Watching the lights trace and outline the soaring arches, the projections unfurling in the dome and the wall behind the ornate shrines of the religious sculptures, and hearing the majestic peals of accompanying choir voices or organ music, I thought, what a marvel! What wonders man has devised! 

But sometimes the soundtrack's volume was nearly overwhelming, and sometimes percussion crashed like thunder as the projections simulated a storm and waves roaring, and looking at the alcoves of the statues that were periodically lit up or outlined and seeing the central figure of Jesus on the cross, I could only think, what desecration. 

The basilica is a monumental work of art, but a visit there will always remind me of how huge idolatry still is today. That, and how this place is geared to rake in the money. You can visit this church any time, for a fee. Where all the candles are, there's now a contactless card reader instead of a money box for the amount you pay before lighting a candle. Turn it into a greater spectacle with the Aura show and bring in hundreds more visitors each day, tens of thousands of dollars. It's a far cry from a sanctuary of true worship, where Jesus is not displayed hanging on a cross, because He never stayed there.

All in all it was an enjoyable experience. We stepped out into the afternoon sunshine and had a little time to walk around before supper. We were feeling quite hungry so we found a good little snack in the charming Le Petit Dep, one of Sabrina's favorite places in Old Montreal. This café and gift shop brims with color and vintage ambiance.

(https://www.basiliquenotredame.ca/en/events/the-aura-experience) 

(https://www.lepetitdep.com/saint-paul) 

Part 4: Terrasse Perché

"With its tropical-inspired setting and bustling bar, this hidden gem on the 4th floor of the William Gray Hotel exudes a vacation vibe. Guests gather here throughout the day to indulge in a truly festive culinary experience while enjoying picturesque views of Old Montreal."

Seven-thirty found us on this rooftop terrasse near Place Jacques Cartier, ready for some fine food in that elegant restaurant. Some folks come here just for the drinks, and a few workers were crafting them full time behind the bar. The service was outstanding. Soon we were enjoying a tropical mocktail and an appetizer of crispy shrimp. Our main dish was a grilled salmon filet surrounded by an exotic sauce and we shared the Perché salad as well. Though this was Monday night the terrasse was still pretty full; I can only imagine what it's like on weekends. 

Sabrina had fun watching folks all through the mealtime. It's certainly a hangout for the upper class. We were just sitting there feeling quite full when our waiter suddenly appeared with a small plate, holding a skewer of four small beignets with a sparkler stuck in it. "Happy anniversary!" he said. I had forgotten that I'd noted the occasion for this reservation back when I booked it, so that was a fun surprise. But alas, we could only eat one little square doughnut and take the rest to go. We relaxed longer, taking in the ambiance of the terrasse and the views of the evening, the Ferris wheel outlined with color, and dark clouds piling in over the sky. By and by we paid our tab and found our way back to the metro. 

(https://perchemtl.com/en/) 

So there's a rundown of our most exotic anniversary so far, and certainly one to remember.

A city bus in the summertime reminds me of jambalaya -- warm and spicy. "Riding the bus is one thing I will never miss," said Caleb after jumping out into the fresh air at Lafourcade one hot day. It had been a particular pungent ride. The slightly opened windows and ventilation thing in the roof do help, but often it's a bit cozy inside.

It wasn't too bad this afternoon, rather a little fun because right before the bus pulled away from Cadillac, along came a group of summer camp kids with several accompanying teens. Children always add entertainment to something as ordinary as a bus ride. It's a great time to see how much of their chatter I comprehend, for one thing.

A few young boys played a spirited game of Rock, Paper, Scissors for a while. I wish I knew the chant they were rattling off each time. It always ended with "un, deux, trois" before they held out their hands in one of the three shapes to see who was the winner. 

I'm not sure where they all were headed; I jumped off at Lafourcade and on they went, the happy and carefree children riding the bus up Boulevard Lacordaire. 

9:00 p.m., and cicada calls me outdoors. I step onto the patio in the twilight and feel the soft air and take a seat to look up at the sky that has a light layer of blue and gray clouds. Treetops ripple slightly, AC units hum, and from the direction of the park float the occasional shouts of children still playing as night falls. Light glows in neighboring windows, ever brighter as the day fades. 

The cicadas fall silent. There's a blinking of lights and the rush of slender wings as another jet descends. An motorcycle revs and races out on the boulevard somewhere. 

There's one quietness of the countryside, then there's the quietness of a city suburb. Maybe it's not really quietness, but at least it's tranquility. The day is over, tomorrow is another.

Then there are small voices in the house calling for me. They just got back from their walk to the park; I'd better go.

"Well it's a pleasure to be here," said Ben. "We'd been looking forward to this for three months!"

And shortly after that we were chowing down on fried catfish and hush puppies, cole slaw, and baked beans with sweet tea to boot, around the table on the patio. It was sooouthern, y'all.

Caleb's folks, Ben & Shari Saul, flew into Montreal late last night but their checked in luggage didn't show up at the same time. They spent the rest of the night at a nearby hotel and their suitcases came in sometime today. The one with frozen catfish from Saul ponds in Brooksville, MS came through all right, to everyone's relief. What a wonder that all the good food was allowed to come into Canada, hallelujah. They even toted a big cast iron pot along for the deep frying. 

We'd heard a lot from Saul about his folks, and his descriptions (which we didn't take as gospel truth) only made us more curious to see them. After all, it's pretty normal for a nineteen-year-old to feel like he has the most embarrassing parents on the planet, is it not. They showed up in front of the yard in a rented Mercedes SUV, and it nicely coincided with Caleb's return from the day's activities. What fun to see them at last.

A short while later the three Saul's headed off to buy some more things needed for supper, and we went our way for a time to find a particular natural food store somewhere around Le Plateau, a colorful neighborhood we should go explore sometime. By the time we returned, the kettle of oil was bubbling away in the backyard as the last of the hush puppies finished frying, and then the heat was turned up for the catfish. I pulled another chair up to watch and chat. Shari was indoors preparing the other good stuff and setting the patio table. Then by and by we gathered around and had ourselves a feast and a jolly time.

Friday wasn't too much different from normal. Jon and I went to Welcome Hall for the morning shift while Caleb spent most of the day taking his parents around the city, seeing different highlights of Old Port and taking a boat ride on the St. Lawrence River in the afternoon.

It wasn't a jet boat ride, like Caleb had been hoping to book earlier, one where you roar around with a bunch of people and everyone gets pretty wet. And he sort of wanted it to be a surprise. I'd heard him one evening on the phone while he tried to casually explain that they might need to take extra clothes along one day in case it rained, even though rain wasn't in the forecast. "Sometimes rain just comes out of nowhere," he said. But in the end they took a calmer boat ride than that. 

My afternoon activity was a visit to the Clinique Chiropratique Saint-Léonard. It had been about four months since my last visit back in Pennsylvania so I was more than ready to get something done. Dr. Alexandra worked her magic and I walked out of there feeling wonderful. She was interesting to talk to while she worked. "I suppose you speak multiple languages," I said.

"Yes I do. You need to, in a place like Montreal."

Then I learned that she had studied a few languages in college including Spanish and German, beyond the French, English, and Italian (her mother tongue) she already spoke. "I've always been interested in languages. Learning seems to come easy for me."

Another point of interest was that her mother-in-law came from around Marsh Creek, Pennsylvania, north of State College and Bellefonte. Born and raised in Montreal, Alexandra is a self-described city girl through and through, and has enjoyed visits to the Pennsylvania countryside. "It's nice to have family in other places so you can get out and see those places," she said. 

Metro singing took place at Station Villa Maria that evening. Gary & Chelsea and some youth joined us from Roxton Falls and we made the station ring with harmonies. One of Caleb's elderly friends whom he visits each Monday afternoon was there to listen for most of the time, along with a son and granddaughter.  A lot of people passed through and many seemed to take interest, tossing some coins in the box and a few taking tracts. At the end we belted out a few good rollers and then wrapped up the activity. We met again in the backyard of Regan's for supper. 

It's bright and breezy up on the grounds of La Citadelle de Québec, a museum and active military base built on the highest point in Quebec City. The British constructed these fortifications around two hundred years ago, and as there never was an invasion, this fortress remains today as it always was. The Royal 22nd Regiment is still active here and they further carry on the heritage with their duties and ceremonies. 

We enter the fortress by ten o'clock and gather with other visitors around the perimeter of the parade grounds where the changing of the guard ceremony takes place. Or took place, I should say. Ever since the pandemic this ceremony never resumed, except for the marching band performances that usually accompanied it, and now which take its place altogether. To me this is the highlight anyway. 

Then here they come out around a corner of one of the great buildings, 35 or so of them, all dressed in red coats, white gloves, black pants, and tall black bearskin hats, playing a march as they tread in time out upon the parade grounds, a spectacle if you ever saw one. Two beat drums, one carries cymbals, and many more are playing brass and winds, and in the back of the group a couple play piccolos, small, high-pitched flutes. Together they create gorgeous harmonies. A recorded announcement plays to introduce the next music between marches along with a fact or two about it. The band weaves this way and that, executing some wonderful choreography together. 

Partway through, the royal mascot is led forth to join the show -- Batisse the 12th, a ram descended from the 4th and final goat gifted to the regiment from Queen Elizabeth. Before every performance, his horns are gilded and a blue banner is draped over his back. Then off he goes with the Goat Major, who leads him around with the procession. He parades in such a docile manner and waits patiently after all that as visitors have their picture taken with him.

The band plays a few more marches and finally exit the grounds, passing down the walkway below as they play a beautiful quick march, Vive la Canadienne, and the show is over. 

We join a group taking a guided tour of the fortress in English and see different ancient buildings and interesting features. Toward the end we survey the world from the wall, high over the St. Lawrence River, with the old city around and below us and the monstrous, iconic Chateau Frontenac towering not far away.

Then we're off for more fun, enjoying a good lunch at La Buche, immersing ourselves in the magic of the old city, and watching a few street performers up at one end of the broad boardwalk. One could spend so much time here, just exploring all the wonders.

Later in the afternoon, when a pounding rain shower moves on, we step out of our vehicles and go on a stroll to behold the marvelous Montmorency Falls. Nearly a hundred feet taller than Niagara though not with the volume, this waterfall is an impressive sight, framed with brown cliffs and thundering down the rock face. 

We walk near the foot and get fairly wet in the spray, and otherwise stay below except for Caleb and Jon who time their climb up the network of stairways along the one slope and make it up in four minutes flat.

♦ ♦ ♦

Such a deja vu this day was. 

Just a little over seven years ago, while I was in Montreal that memorable summer, we all traveled to Quebec City with Hugues as our tour guide. Revisiting my journal from back then, I find it was July 8, 2017. We had gone in time for the changing of the guard ceremony in the fort and ate at La Buche afterward. I'll insert what I wrote back then about the restrooms at that restaurant.

You enter this little room at the bottom of the stairs with an old iron tub in the middle and three copper pipes sticking down over it from the ceiling with valves on the end. That was for washing. This small room was lined with doors opening to little stalls. The doors, walls, and ceiling were plastered with visitors’ names, and even inside the stalls too. We added our names and dates to the thousands all over that plywood surface space, mine at a place I’ll be able to find if I ever return.

Guess what, I didn't find it. In truth I didn't spend the time looking for it.

And then we had explored the old city for a while and eventually drove off to see Montmorency. 

Back then, it was my buddy and I, our Johnson house papas, and my buddy's family out visiting that made up the group with Hugues along. Now here I was with my own little fam, the house papas, with the parents of one of our boys out visiting, and as before Hugues was our guide, now with his wife Amy and little boy Louis. 

Different, but so much the same. So many different times through the day I thought of it. Even one particular street performer we saw today was one I remembered from before, who sways back and forth on a tall unicycle while juggling flaming torches as his finale. I would never have dreamed that a day like this would be recreated in just this way.

♦ ♦ ♦

(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Royal_22nd_Regiment) 

(https://www.lacitadelle.qc.ca/en/activities/changing-of-the-guard.html) 

(https://www.restolabuche.com/) 

(https://whc.unesco.org/en/list/300/) 

(https://www.sepaq.com/destinations/parc-chute-montmorency/index.dot?language_id=1) 

It was another perfect day of sunshine and low humidity and the evening was as beautiful. We all and Regan's met in the Wilfrid Bastien park for some pizza around 8:00. We might have gone to Roxton Falls but for the full weekend we'd had, and for the fact that we'll all be out there next Sunday for a wedding. Busy times these are.

It also means that today was Jon's last time participating in the service at our little church in the city. We opted to stay around for the evening and he chose a good way for us to spend it together, a farewell party in a sense. So the Saul's picked up pizza and we devoured it under some trees near the pond. Then we migrated over to the tennis courts later for games of pickleball, first with Jon, Caleb, Regan, and I, and later Caitlin and Sabrina played too. It was fun but I guarantee I'm not used to leaping around like that. I guess that means I should do it more. I took Alec home and put him to bed well before the rest returned and had a little time to relax. 

I guess I haven't said much about Ben & Shari Saul, but we sure have been enjoying them! To Julian and Alec they're another grandpa and grandma, great for jumping on the couch with and listening to another story. They're some good, down to earth country folks and have been quite generous throughout their stay. Shari gave the boys neat little water bottles that are just like the style of what grownups carry around and those sure are a treasure. (They toted them all around Quebec City on Saturday.) 

Ben & Shari have visited other units over the years when their other sons served, and now this is their last trip of this sort, a bittersweet fact Ben has been reminded of through the weekend.

It was another crystal morning so we had breakfast and a good time on the patio. Then they were off for another day of touring Montreal with Caleb and will spend the next two nights at a hotel, as our next set of visitors arrive tonight: our unit supervisor, Mr. & Mrs. Kelly Penner from Norquay, SK.

♦ ♦ ♦

They pulled alongside the yard around 9:00 p.m., Kelly & Tam with their two youngest children, Aliyah (13) and Jordy (10). We spent time getting acquainted and making a few interesting connections after welcoming them in so bedtime wasn't much earlier than normal.

It fell upon a fine day that House Mama turned 30 and enjoyed some nice surprises throughout the day. A birthday present had arrived the day before: a small copper watering can with a slender spout in a style she does adore. 

Today, Kelly rose early with us (Jon and I) and came along to Welcome Hall for the morning shift. Caleb had spent the night at a hotel with his folks, and the three of them were at Welcome Hall by the time we arrived. Adrianna assigned cart duty to the visitors and I. Kelly and I welcomed the clients to the market after their registration at the other door, stuck their colored tag in the top of the cart, and then directed them to the right and left lines. Ben & Shari waited by the exit to bring the carts back once clients had packed up their things and toted them away. It was an enjoyable morning and all had a wonderful time. One of the administrative ladies gave us an all-out presentation after the market so we were the last of the volunteers to get out of there.

We walked around the corner to Léché Desserts for some fabulous doughnuts and this time I tried an Earl Gray doughnut, taking another to go for Sabrina. From there the Saul's headed out for some more sightseeing and the rest of us headed home. Kelly brought half a dozen doughnuts home and we had good discussions on the way. A lunch of salmon was spread on the patio table and we gathered around. Julian and Jordy meanwhile had fun together throughout the morning and Julian loved having a big brother around for the next day and a half. 

Kelly and I accompanied Jon to the Habitat for Humanity ReStore in Montreal North where the guys spend a couple hours on Tuesday afternoons. Then we returned and the Penner's were off to explore the Jean-Talon Market while Sabrina and I worked on supper: Applebee's Crispy Orange Chicken Bowls. That involved cubing and deep frying a lot of chicken, besides baking rice, sautéing veggies, and mixing a glaze to go over it all. Aliyah and Tam appeared in the kitchen bearing a fresh bouquet and saying "Happy birthday!" They had enjoyed the market and brought back some fresh fruit as well.  

The Saul's arrived and we had supper all together in the backyard. Sabrina had tried using the ice cream maker for doing frozen yogurt for dessert and it didn't really turn out, but no matter! Here came Saul creeping down the patio stairs carrying a chocolate cake with thirty candles blazing, and she didn't see it until he brought it around to her and we were all singing happy birthday. So we had chocolate cake and partially frozen yogurt at the end of things. 

Around 9:00 we all said goodbye to Ben & Shari and they were off to their hotel, to return the Mercedes and get up early the next morning for the flight home. Had I mentioned they also brought fifteen pounds of loose sausage for us? And we still have ten pounds of catfish in the freezer. Bless their hearts. Their visit was a memorable time for all of us.

The Penner's left by 6:15, and a pretty normal Thursday followed, a little time to catch our breath amid all the activities. House mama was a bit overwhelmed with all the tasks. I took the boys to the park a while and worked on some tasks of my own, and somewhere the day rolled on by. 

The guys created supper tonight: enchiladas and sopa. We ate outside, moderately bundled up as the wind from the cloudy sky was chilly and some rain had fallen in the afternoon. The relaxed evening passed quickly too, with some Mexican hot chocolate cooked up on the stovetop and plenty of lounging around.

Rather than take transit to Welcome Hall, we drove down the island in the perfectly clear morning and even found a good parking spot near the mission. After the distribution we went our ways, the guys homeward with maybe a detour or two and I to the airport to pick up my older bro Carlos. He flew to Montreal to spend some time with us and also attend Brandon Peachey and Starla Wedel's wedding in Roxton Falls on Sunday.

We had lunch back at the house and a couple hours later, my next younger bro Randall & Jessica with their baby daughter Lillie arrived. So it was family around for the weekend which was fun! It was amazing to see how much the little girl has grown during the four months we've been gone. It was also a nice surprise to receive a few gallons of good Appalachian spring water they had toted along for me.

They were in time to go along to metro singing at Station Jean-Talon, where some youth and a couple from Alexandria joined us. We hosted supper in our backyard after that.

We had a bit of the early afternoon to take our family sightseeing. (Jon and Caleb caught a ride out to Roxton Falls for volleyball meanwhile.) What all can you do in just a couple hours? We kept it simple, riding the metro down to Old Port and walking the cobblestone streets. People were everywhere, restaurants and souvenir shops doing good business, and Place Jacques Cartier was slowly filling up with more vendors and caricature booths. 

We stopped at a couple shops and then walked down toward the river. How about three rounds on the mammoth Ferris wheel? Those air-conditioned gondolas sure are nice. The views from two hundred feet in the air were breathtaking as always. It's a good way to view the old city and a few of the iconic things. 

Right after that we trotted over to where Le Grand Poutinefest was still going on. A large area along the clock tower quay was fenced off to direct visitors around to an entrance, where a big bounce castle was set up for kids and food trucks were lined up ready to serve all kinds of poutine. You know me, I settled for a classic despite all the exotic options, and it went down well. 

So quickly we ran out of time but we walked yet to the river's edge. The strip of little shops between the zip line and the other food trucks attracted us to browse a few minutes and then we headed back into the city.

Back at the house we raced around getting ready to go out to Roxton and whipped together an icing for the sheet cake. It narrowly missed being a flop altogether but somehow it worked in the end. (And we brought 95% of the cake home afterward.) The Saturday supper for Brandon & Starla was supposed to be at 6:00 so we roared out into the countryside in record time. I had a small hunch that being thirty minutes late wouldn't make any difference, and sure enough, supper didn't organize until around 7:00, so there was time to walk around and meet the various Pennsylvania folks who had come. What fun to see all their smiling faces! My youngest brothers Gerald and Jeff had also come, so in the end most of my family was around for the weekend. Julian and Alec were glad to see them again.

Then also some former Roxton people were back home for the wedding, girls that had been part of the youth group when I was in Montreal seven years ago. There were the Toews girls, Allison and Janalee with their husbands, and Starla's married sisters, Bethany and Nicole. Anna (Barberini) & Nathan Beachy from Arthur, IL were also back with their charming young daughter Avonlea. It had been years since we'd been with Anna so we had to chat some, and didn't that bring back good memories.

How many guests can you cram into the small church at Roxton Falls? I heard the crowd was upwards of 300 or more. From where I was seated I didn't have a vantage to assess the gathering; somehow I was lucky and was ushered to a bench inside the sanctuary, right by the interpreter's corner. Fans whirled overhead and the windows stood open to the forest air and cicada songs on such a classic summer morning. It did warm up in the church house but less than I expected, so it was pretty comfortable overall. 

Space limitations usually dictate the size of the choir so it was smaller but well-harmonized and a pleasure to listen to. There were a couple roof-raising congregational songs: "Come, Gracious Spirit," and later a soaring French hymn, "Gloire, gloire à l'Éternel!" It was a beautiful service. Soon the joyful couple was walking out and leaving church for the community center where the reception was held. All the guests were thankful for the abundance of air conditioning, good food, and fellowship found there. 

I was up early to take Carlos to the airport. I don't wake up every day hearing music; but the first thing running through my mind was the chorus of a song from metro singing last Friday night, the French version of the song "Day by Day." Knowing a little more French definitely accelerates memorization of the songs we sing here. Maybe it was the slightly melancholy feel of the song that fit so well. 

"Et son cœur si patient, si tendre

Sait pourvoir aux besoins de ma foi,

À lui seul j'ai appris à m'attendre

Et je sais qu'il s'occupe de moi."

And His heart so patient, so tender

Knows how to provide for the needs of my faith,

From Him alone I have learned to wait

And I know He cares for me.

I dropped him off at the airport and cruised home to make crepes. Randall's stuck around for breakfast yet, and Max & Martha Boursiquot (also from Belleville) came over for that so it was a good time. But so soon they went their ways as well. 

Someone had asked me yesterday if seeing all these familiar people made me homesick. Not really, I said, but it sure was good to see all these Pennsylvania folks. Could be I'm feeling a little of that today, though. Sometimes I really miss the Appalachians, but I'm glad to be here. 

The past week has been a marathon of sorts so there's sleep and other things to catch up on, and now this present week will bring more changes. July is almost over; this beautiful summer is moving right along. Day by day, time flows on.

We laughed so much on the way to the airport, we didn't know whether our ruse would work once we got there. House mama had stayed behind while the rest of us ran off to pick up the new guy after supper: Tyler Friesen of Ballico, CA. 

One thing was certain, Caleb was a spectacle. He was done up as a grumpy, overweight guy with a small pillow stuffed inside a dress shirt (the buttons were appropriately straining), and a wonderful amount of extra clothing stuffed down his pants and around his waist. The belt was at the last notch and hanging open as well as the zipper, and he combed his hair in a center part and came upstairs with such a glum expression. House mama couldn't keep things together, you could say, and retired to the bedroom a while. We were all in stitches. Except Caleb of course, a glorified Eeyore. 

We got in the van, cranked up the AC for the trip, and off we went. Caleb scored a good number of double takes on the way to the airport, for sure through the slow traffic, with his face against the window staring people down. Caleb's persona was one part of the plan. The other was the switching of roles between Jon and I. I became the senior guy for a few hours while he became Papa. 

Tyler was out along the pick-up lane so we didn't have much time to get our act together. All I know is Jon quick jumped out and was the first to give him a hearty welcome and immediately turned his attention to the luggage. Caleb reluctantly and with great effort exited the passenger seat and ambled over to introduce himself, and I was right behind. "Call me Jon, or Miller, whichever you prefer," I told him. Briefly we stood by the hatch and I asked Jon, "Do you want me to drive home?" He affirmed his preference and we all piled in. 

We weren't even out of the airport when Tyler said, "You all have me scratching my head!" We were preposterous actors at best, and while he wasn't necessarily fooled, we kept him confused for a time. He had identified the pillow in Caleb's shirt pretty early in the game, but who was Papa and who was Jon? Having Julian and Alec along worked better than I had expected; Julian didn't even leak the plot. But with secrecy in the air and conversations going a little strange, Tyler knew a game was on. We made it home all right, finding the house after "losing" my way in our neighborhood. I showed Tyler his side of the bedroom downstairs and told him I really needed to finish packing up my stuff, and poked around a little in the bedroom. 

Upstairs we found the bulky Caleb looking in the fridge for a snack. I challenged him to skip the snack for this evening, and I'd do the same. Together we'd drink only water before bed. But soon he was digging in the pantry. Out came the Nutella and he grabbed a big old spoonful and crammed it in his mouth. (He regretted it very soon. He likes Nutella, but in very small quantities.) I grabbed the jar away and made a fuss over it all. 

The end was very near. Soon after we were down in the bedroom, having a great laugh as Caleb pulled out all his padding. And then Tyler got serious about the identities of Jon and I. Jon came down carrying Julian and Alec was running around too. "Who is your dad?" Tyler asked Julian. By a stroke of fortune Julian was wise to the situation and he poked Jon. Tyler wasn't convinced. In the end he played off a voice message of mine from a few weeks back and nailed it.  Game over!

After the small boys were in bed, we hung out in the living room getting acquainted with our new guy. As I've said before, I'm not good at describing people I hardly know, but I can do a short description. Tyler Friesen: 20 years old, tall with blond hair and blue eyes, a megawatt smile, amiable and chill. (On the 16 Personalities test, he's a "Consul," an ESFJ-T, for your info.)

Bienvenue à Montréal!

The pleasure was mine to accompany Tyler on his initial venture into the city. The first objective was an orientation at 10:00 in the office of EBM, the organization that matches up their volunteers with a couple elderly folks in the city for friendly visits. In the case of our guys, this is a weekly activity on Monday afternoons. We arrived downtown ahead of time so our footsteps led us along a few blocks and around a corner to Cafe Myriade and there we grabbed a drink. 

The orientation was over by 11:00. We rode the metro back up to Station McGill, walked through a couple of the huge malls, and exited onto Rue Saint Catherine, one of the main drags through the heart of the city. Just a six minute walk up this street and around a corner we found Il Focolaio, a popular wood-fired pizza restaurant, and stopped in for lunch. It was almost noon, and after our arrival the place filled up quickly. It was nearly too noisy in there for conversation, but then, house papa's voice is not of the powerful, resonant sort. This restaurant faces Phillips Square with its walkways, flowers, and a monument to Edward VII. It's always an interesting spot to stop and look upward. Nearby are some very old buildings including the 165-year-old Christ Church Cathedral, surrounded and dwarfed by soaring glass towers of the modern age. 

We walked through the square after lunch and heard a voice shouting on and on from somewhere. Then we spotted him, seated against the wall of the Hudson's Bay building, and he was strumming a guitar. Until then it hadn't been apparent that he was singing. We drew a little closer to listen, and now I wish we would've crossed the street to get more of what he was saying. The old geezer was all-out freestyling, and the phrases we caught were hilarious. It seemed he was hurling mild insults at society and the world in general, repeating some of his phrases so there were recurring sentiments. There was zero correlation between his strumming and his lusty vocals though. I'd never heard anything like it.

Down a couple blocks, right near the Place Villa Marie tower, we found The Ring and detoured to check it out. This marvelous sculpture, installed two years ago, is nearly a hundred feet in diameter. Seen from behind, the ring frames a view through the downtown to Mont Royal and has become an icon in its own right. Events are often set up around it.

We found the metro and were off to find Welcome Collective, the organization the guys work with on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Mattresses, furniture, and household things are collected, sorted, and distributed to refugee families throughout Montreal from this location, and the guys generally ride along on deliveries both days. It was a muggy afternoon with low clouds. We had been lucky so far to stay dry but then showers moved over, so on the long walk from Station Sauvé we ran through rain, arriving hot and wet. Charles, one of the main workers there, was glad to meet Tyler and show him around a little. Had we stayed another twenty minutes or so we would have gotten in on the farewell surprise for Jon that the workers put together. Meanwhile we came home pretty wet and ready to relax, for sure Tyler who was under the effects of jet lag. 

The rain moved off in the evening. We gathered at Regan's for a welcome/farewell supper followed by some recreation at our nearby park.

♦ ♦ ♦

(https://ilfocolaio.ca/en/) 

(https://www.mtl.org/en/what-to-do/culture-arts-heritage/ring-esplanade-place-ville-marie-montreal)