A 24-hour getaway to Parry Sound.

If I haven’t complained enough about this already, I need vacation.

These days, it just feels like we have no time.  For anything.  Not even a coffee.

For example.  There’s this little neighbourhood cafe, not far from us.  And it is adorable.  Tin-ceilings, tall windows, ornate wood carvings thick with decades of paint.  We talk about going for a midday coffee break there like it’s a vacation to the freakin’ Maldives.  Maybe if we win the lottery, we say, I could try their tea.

In short, if I can get any time to myself, any time at all, I’ll take it.  Grab it by the horns and probably strangle it to death.

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Anyway.

This past weekend, Husbo had a gig in Parry Sound.  So we all hopped in the car and went on a little 24-hour getaway.  Of course, Husbo was working so not much romance was involved but at least I had Jeans.

And we managed to go for not one, but two long walks.  Two!  In one day!

It was a miracle.

Photobooth fun!

Snaps from Nat + Frank’s lovely day.

Three years later.

I love my job.

 

Ultra mini-vacations.

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I don’t know about you but I’m really sad that summer is over.

Feels like we didn’t do anything except work.  A lot.

Oh wait.  We went to a beach.  Once.  For two hours.  In-between appointments.  On a weekday. 

That was our one summer holiday.

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But not one to give up so easily, today I hog-tied Husbo into coming on a 2-hour canoe trip with me.

And while the freeway could still be heard faintly and occasionally in the distance, I couldn’t believe how still the water was.  Or how one could do something so idyllic, right in the heart of the city.  Floating by turtles and geese and blue herons.

I think I might’ve even caught my breath, even if only for a moment.

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Shoes at the Ritz-Carlton.

Lotsa fancy people hanging at the Ritz-Carlton on a Thursday night.  Also, TIFF is here.  Not sure if the two are related.

Making the Sauce: the Family + Friends Edition.

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For years, I’ve been wanting to “make the sauce.”

We’d talk about it all the time.  With family, with friends, with each other — repeatedly.  Always saying next year next year next September ok for real we’re doing it this time.

But for real, we did it this time!

Sure, we “did the tomatoes” last year too but it was an impromptu, solitary, “just us” affair.

And like most things in life, it’s much more fun with loved ones and wine.

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There’s Jeans in background also doing her part: clean-up.

Papa T doing double-duty.

Husbo took this photo of me, cutting the basil fresh for the sauce.  It also serves as evidence that I’m becoming my mother and am also thoroughly domesticated.

The very first jar.

Three generations.

The last six jars.

The end result!

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There were a few hiccups along the way (we almost ran out of jars), shared stories of how other people have done it before (citrus? no citrus?), lots of collaborating, cooperating and all-around nice time-ness.

And I can’t wait to do it all again next year.

Hitting critical mass.

Snappity-snips from Jessica + Rod’s lovely day.