So. Ottawa. I went there and came home and promptly got sick, hence the lack of reporting on the festivities. It was most enjoyable!
The trip began with a first class train ride, with some first class folks. A kind gentleman swept the stroller away from me, and a stewardess (is that what they call them on trains?) carried Griffin in his car seat to our seat. I was handed the lunch menu, lunch consisted of a cheese plate appetizer, with havarti and brie, and some yummy jammy stuff. (I’m sure it had a better name, but I like to call it yummy jammy stuff.) For the main course I choose a filet of Atlantic Char, topped in a black peppercorn hollandaise sauce. Something chocolaty and yummy followed for desert, and well as a chocolate mint truffle. A very civilized way to travel.
After my little sojourn, I have come to the conclusion that there are two types of people in the world (aside from those that turn their Christmas lights on before December 1st and those who don’t). There are those who do kids, and those who don’t. Interestingly enough, you don’t have to have kids or even want kids to be someone who digs them. You could be making an informed choise to save the world from some recessive mutant gene that you have, but still enjoy children as a whole. And alternatively, just because you have kids, doesn’t necessarily mean you like them, or for that matter, even wanted them at all. The reason I bring this up is that the train ride to Ottawa was full of people who did kids. And the train ride home was full of people who didn’t.
Why is it that one feels bad when one’s baby cries in first class? Worse, perhaps, than they would feel if their baby was crying back in the cheap seats? I know that if I was a stuffy business man in a way too expensive (but ugly) suit who paid (or rather, who’s company paid) over $300 for a seat on the train, that I wouldn’t want to listen to a hollering baby all the way from Toronto to Ottawa. Of course, my baby only hollered part of the way, and luckily he did most of it on the train ride there, where I received sympathetic glances, and smiles and coo’s from my surrounding passengers. The wailing that happened on the way home was met with icy stares from Stuffy Suits across the aisle. Luckily the First Class folks in front of me we’re too busy enjoying too much second class (but free) wine to notice, or care.
So aside from the train ride, we spent some time with Alexis and Timothy, Timothy being Griffin’s best friend to be. They were born 5 weeks apart. We did some shopping, sipped some gingerbread lattes (where we had a close call with the evil nutmeg shaker…it appears that nutmeg is now standard practice for the G.L. Horror.) and generally enjoyed our bonding time together. We had a visit with a very pregnant Kater who’s baby is due on the lighting of the lights day – December 1st. Go baby Pinto! And then I came home, back to our house in the country, back to my overworked hubby, and as always, back to the never ending mountain of laundry. And a cold. From Alexis. Yippie!
It sure is nice to be home!