Wednesday Evening

Hello! Yes, KCL, I know I could have done this as an edit to my previous blog, but I was afraid people who had already read that entry wouldn't think to go back and see if there was more, and I can't have anyone missing a single pearl of my wisdom.

So after lunch, I was peacefully reading in a quiet little nook in the Atrium and I took a break to scan today's Princess Patter to see what was on this afternoon. What should catch my eye but an ad for a special in the spa today: Called 20-20-20, you got to choose three of their services and have 20-minute mini-sessions of them. Huh.

Well, here's the thing. I had been forced to give up an afternoon shopping in Boston with Ms. K due to this one gigantic, infuriating, slow-healing New York blister. (I may be gaining a shipboard reputation as an eccentric because other than in the restaurants, I've been going barefoot full-time while aboard.) But anyway, had I gone shopping, I'd have certainly spent money, right? No question.

You see where this is going. I rationalized myself right back into the spa for a back, foot and scalp massage. Gosh, I was a happy little cruiser. After that, I settled back into my little nook with my novel. My hair was a tad oily, but very aromatic.

Big trivia game in the late afternoon. The Explorer's Lounge was filled with 20-25 teams of 4-6 players. Ahem. We won. Now, honesty compels me to confess we actually won fraudulently. We discovered only after everything was said and done, and trinket prizes handed out, that the team that marked our paper had ticked one incorrect answer in error. We didn't give back our prizes, though. We figured we deserved them for the handicap of Playing While Canadian.
Did you know an ant can live two days underwater? What the HECK kind of sadist tests that sort of thing???

On deck for sailaway. There was plenty of rail-room, as it was cloudy and quite chilly. Although not enough to warrant the heavy coat, scarf and MITTENS we saw one lady walking around in! (Must be from California.)

Italian night in the dining room. I had: an antipasto of shrimp, squid and mussels in a lemon mayonnaise; spinach salad; prawns in a spicy tomato sauce; and tiramisu with a scoop of zabaglione ice cream. RH had: a cheesy eggplant bake (it was called something more exotic, but that's what it was); minestrone soup; spinach salad; pot roast; some sort of spumoni-ish ice cream.

Next is the first big production show. It doesn't start for another 45 minutes but I'm going up there to score my seat. Love the big shows. Tomorrow: Bah Hahbah, Maine. See you then!

Wednesday

Hello, everybody! Are we already on day 3 of the cruise? Noooooooo! Still having a fabulous time. Yesterday we had room service for breakfast, then spent some time out on deck as it was a nice day. Sunny and about 18 degrees. Perfection.

In the later morning we took the tender ashore for our tour of Newport, RI. It was a 90-minute trip around a very pretty place. No buildings taller than eight stories (and only one of those). But mostly what we were looking at were the "summer cottages" of the rich and famous of the gilded age (or various gilded ages, or gilded families). These 25-30-room mansions were lived in for 7 or 8 weeks a year. Wild.

Back to the ship for a late lunch in Horizon Court (the buffet restaurant). The food on this trip is turning out to be excellent, as usual. I think we've only had one cruise where it wasn't. We're always amazed by how good the buffet food is. After lunch, RH went for a rest and I made my first visit to the spa, for a pedicure. Ahhhhh. That felt SO GOOD. (And she was very good about working around my still-healing blisters!) After that, the four of us sat around the Atrium for awhile, drinking tea and people-watching, until time to primp for the first formal night.

For the foodie fans: I had crab quiche; cream of asparagus soup; beef tournedos (SO good, VCCGirl!); chocolate-hazelnut souffle with warm sabayon sauce. RH had: crab quiche; beef consomme; halibut; some sort of cake (I forget); and a couple of the petit fours waiter Chalee "forced" upon him. Enjoyed the music in the Explorer's Lounge for awhile after dinner -- a trio playing pop stuff from the 50s-70s, as per usual for this lounge. Baby Boomer music. Very good. Then RH and I finished the evening with the viewing of a fairly lame comic/magician. (I believe TL and Ms. K went on to see a singer, but we were tired.)

So far today (it's 11:15 am as I'm writing this) we have had our 2-hour bus tour of Boston. It was interesting but we had a few annoying people on our bus. Some people who talked constantly, totally ignoring the tour guide, and a guy with a severe phlegm problem. Ewwwwww. So many beautiful old buildings in Boston. So much history. So much road construction. (But that made us feel at home!) We were glad to have an early tour even though it made for early rising because now we have lots of time this afternoon to enjoy our ship. The Grand Princess is aging a little, but it's a layout we have done several times previously so we are very at home here. And it's interesting to compare Princess with Celebrity now. Although service on Princess is very good, Celebrity does have them beat in that regard. But Princess is definitely a little more "fun". (Quite an older crowd on this particular itinerary, though. No wonder there's phlegm.) And the nickel-and-diming trend continues: you now pay even for a cup of coffee or tea anywhere but a dining room. Oh -- but there was a new thing yesterday: they came around the public areas about 3 pm with milk and fresh-baked, warm chocolate chip cookies! I missed out because I was pedicuring, but TL was very excited by this. I don't know if they'll do that every day, but I will be hanging around hopefully this afternoon!

This is not up to my usual writing style because I'm just writing on the fly. Usually I write my blogs in Word first and then cut and paste them here, but I have no access to Word on these computers. But I don't care. I have better things to do! So I'm off to find a cozy spot to read my book now. Another half-hour and it will be time to think about lunch, as we breakfasted so early... Mmmm. Lunch.

Chat with you later! Bye for now!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Not that Canadian Thanksgiving was acknowledged in any way aboard ship, but somehow we managed to enjoy dinner, anyway!

But I must go back to the beginning and tell you about our New York weekend. We were picked up at JFK airport by a private car sent for us, and only us, apparently, by Princess. The driver was an older Greek fellow who, upon discovering this was our first visit to NYC, insisted on taking us a slighly scenic route to our hotel. No matter that it was 11:30 p.m. No matter that he actually didn't tell us anything about what we were seeing but instead expounded the entire 40-minute drive on Greek history and politics. It was neat to get our first glimpse of the city that doesn't sleep.

Our hotel, the Sheraton Towers, had a spectacular and gigantic lobby, but the rooms were no more than 3-star. Clean, nice. Adequate. (Excellent air conditioning, though!)

Met up with the Lawman and Ms. K about 8 the next morning and headed out in search of breakfast. This was more a matter of choice than search, of course, as there were literally dozens of places to eat within 5 minutes' walk in any direction from the hotel. After breakfast we took a Greyhound bus tour of Uptown Manhattan. Sat in the open-air top of the double-decker bus in the lovely sunshine (and nice breeze!) and thoroughly enjoyed the 90-minute trip with a worldly and clever tour guide. We had to take a few detours because we kept running into little street fairs, and one parade. We wondered if this was because it was the American Columbus Day weekend, but it seems that this happens all the time, totally randomly. This day's parade we passed was for some sort of Korean celebration.

In the early afternoon we did some exploring on our own. To save RH's legs, we did some subway and cabbing, both very successfully. It was 1000 degrees underground waiting for the trains, but the cars themselves are air-conditioned. And we quickly got quite expert at the proper cab-hailing technique. Espy an in-service cab (and they come along constantly), and fling out one arm. Don't wave, flail, or vocalize. Just the arm. Works every time, and just feels way cool.

Unfortunately I became violently ill in the latter afternoon so RH and I lost some precious exploring time (because of course my darling husband wouldn't leave me) and also missed out on our Tavern on the Green dinner. Major bummer, but I was fine by the next morning. Just one of those stupid things.

So Sunday morning we did the Downtown loop Greyhound tour, a two-hour trip and also most informative and enjoyable. Then lots of slogging around on foot in the afternoon. (Thank goodness I packed lots of moleskin!) Between the bus and on foot, we saw pretty much every New York icon you can think of this weekend. We Did New York! (We only got to do one side of the famous 5th Avenue, though, because...there was a parade going down it. Something Polish this time.)

VCCGirl -- you'd go NUTS shopping here. A gazillion clothes stores, and all huge!

Sunday evening we had an early supper and then cabbed to the Schubert Theater for our Broadway show. (Which I'd have been a lot more upset to miss than dinner last night!!) We saw Spamalot, which won a Tony award in 2004, and quite deservedly, we think. It was hysterical, outrageous, totally non-PC. And it ended with a rousing audience singalong of "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life". We shared a couple of pieces of cheesecake after the show, but still couldn't find a free cab in the busy Broadway area when we were done, so decided to walk back. It was ten blocks, but the short north-south blocks, so RH was fine. Especially, he commented drily, at the pace we...um...shuffled most of it. Our route home took us through Times Square, and apparently everyone in town mistook October 7 for New Year's Eve. The sidewalks were a solid mass of humanity. But we sure didn't mind the slow pace, because although we had been through the Square a few times in daylight, seeing it at night...well, it's dazzling in the extreme. It's almost overwhelming. It's hard to breathe. I'm so glad I got to see that. I think shuffling through Times Square at night was the highlight of my trip to NYC.

So this morning we did one more quick walk around. (More of a limp-around, really, by this point.) Then Princess got us bussed out to the Brooklyn docks midday, and from the moment we got off the bus to the moment we stepped on the ship was no more than ten minutes. It would have been even less, in fact, if Rob hadn't misplaced his cruisecard within seconds of being handed it at the counter. After a few minutes of kafuffle, returning to the counter and so on, he discovered it in his back pocket. Now, the large black woman admitting guests to the gangway had observed this and decided to have some fun. After waving The Lawman, Ms. K and me through, she held up her hand to RH and commenced berating him in a loud, very Bronx voice. "WHERE is your card, sir? Do you HAVE a card? Do you understand the RESPONSIBILITY of this card, sir?" It was hilarous.

And I've gotta tell you, the minute I stepped on board, I was Home. I really could live on a cruise ship.

And so we sailed away from New York on a warm and sunny late afternoon, passing right by our final NYC icon, the Statue of Liberty. (I half expected the US national anthem to start blaring from the PA system. Thankfully, it did not.) We discovered at dinner that we have a great table for four by a window and two warm and friendly Thai waiters.

Now, Missy Moo. As per your instructions, I present you with my first dinner menu: lobster terrine; spring rolls; baked ham with a cranberry gravy; and apple strudel. RH had: spring rolls; cream of porcini mushroom soup; house salad; rockfish; and profiteroles with fresh berries. (I'm not going to recite TL and Ms. K's meals!) We all split a bottle of Pinot Grigio.

After dinner we participated in our first trivia competition. Didn't win, but did pretty well. (One of the questions was "Edmonton is the capital of what Canadian province?" We got that one right.)

So that brings us up to date. I'm going to close this off, then go listen to some music in the Explorer's Lounge for awhile before calling it a night. Tomorrow: Newport, RI!

Are we there yet?

Well, here it is the last Monday before our Big Trip. We leave on Friday, and thanks to a lull in work (and compulsive Virgoness) I am pretty much completely ready to go. The clothes are all sorted, clean, ironed and folded. (I will be wearing only the reject, not-good-enough-for-the-trip clothes between now and Friday.) The notes for the children have been prepared. So I’m completely ready to go, and I have no work. Can you say bouncing off the walls?

I can’t even burn off any energy cleaning house, because my cleaning lady is coming tomorrow and it goes against every fibre of my being to pay someone to clean an already clean house. No, she must earn her money by facing a pigsty or I’m not getting satisfaction. I’ve been known to screech at RH for, say, wiping something sticky off the kitchen floor the day before the cleaning lady comes. “Stop! Are you nuts? She’s coming tomorrow!!” I bellow. “She’s going to be cleaning the whole floor! You’re just wasting money!”

Of course I know this doesn’t make any sense. I can’t help that.

I’ve had a cleaning lady (well, a series of them, and one extremely stinky cleaning man) for ten years, which is also how long it’s been since I went back to work after being a full-time mom for a long while. A cleaning lady was the very first priority for me once I was earning my own money. (I couldn’t afford both that and a personal chef. It was a toss-up, but the cleaning won.)

The problem is that I have two completely different people living inside me when it comes to this sort of thing. There’s the side of me that could have been quite comfortable as a duchess in 19th century England with a very large staff. (Duchesses prior to the 19th century also had large staffs but I’m not willing to go any farther back in time due to other issues such as disease and general smelliness and things. And most duchesses subsequent to the 19th century don’t even have enough money to keep their estates from falling down around their heads and have to sell them to people like Elton John or Jo Rowling.)

Anyway, in juxtaposition with that duchess part of me, I have this annoying egalitarian streak which makes me feel guilty about having someone else clean my house. (Or it would, if I didn’t pay her such a lot of money to do it.) Back when I hired my first cleaner, one of my children made the grievous error of referring to her as “the maid”. I nearly bit the child’s head off. To my mind, “maid” was a term too suggestive of subservience. My offspring were forced to listen to a long lecture about how people who clean houses are no better or worse than anyone else. They are performing a service just as valuable and respectable as doctors or lawyers or hockey players or moms or any other important person.

But I didn’t say these were two equal parts of me. Of course the duchess part is stronger. You know that! Where RH feels it necessary to leave the house when our cleaner comes, I actually get quite a lot of enjoyment hearing and seeing her working around my home, doing the stuff I’m just too damn lazy to do.

Oh, I just got an email from my office. There’s work! Yay! Otherwise I would have degenerated to just typing: Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet……

Olio

Good morning, Blog World. Today we have a mixed bag of thoughts and comments (as opposed to my sharply-crafted, single-theme efforts of previous dates. HA!)

Got another unflattering look at myself this past weekend. My office computer crashed on Friday afternoon, just as I had agreed to accept a large batch of work to do by Monday. I knew all my fellow transcribers were also loaded to the gunwales, and I reacted to this crisis the way I always do: I had a meltdown. Rather than even attempt to think of something to solve the problem, I just sat in front of my coolly unresponsive computer cursing and ululating and rending my garments.

Fortunately, I am blessed with a husband and his chip-off-the-block daughter who are calm and capable and also well-trained to leap into action when their wife/mother commences to ululate. Within minutes, it seemed, RH had rushed the ailing computer off to a repair shop, while VCCGirl smartly moved the den computer into my office. (All those cables and cords! She unplugs them with such careless abandon!) When the Word program on this computer rudely refused to allow me access, The Lad was called at work (by VCCGirl, not me. I hadn’t stopped screaming yet) and interrupted his session to try to come up with a solution. In the meantime, Friend Known as Katie had been prevailed upon to download my work, as my dead computer was the only one in this house with such capability.

It takes a village to calm a Grammar.

VCCGirl herself had a need for help this morning when she roused from sleep to see her clock-radio displaying the time of 8:10. This was dismaying because her work shift started at 8:00. Of course, she doesn’t waste time freaking out. She immediately called a coworker/friend who lives five minutes from the workplace and mobilised her to cover until VCCGirl could get there herself. Meanwhile, RH and I gathered together a travel mug of piping hot tea and some fruit and snacky things, and got her car warmed up and its windows cleared of heavy autumn dew.

Isn’t it wonderful to have family and friends to rally around when you need them?

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RH has been mocking me because I already have most of the clothes for our trip laid out atop our bedroom bookshelf, though we do not leave for 12 days. But if I hadn’t done that, I might have been wearing something crucial to the whole wardrobe matrix when I was rending garments on Friday!

We were recently notified by Princess of a change in our itinerary. It seems that the docking facilities in Charlottetown are under repair to an extent that will preclude stopping there, so instead we will be spending a day in and around Corner Brook, Newfoundland. This is fine with us as we have been to PEI quite recently, but never to Newfoundland. Unfortunately our travelling companions, the Lawman and Ms. K, were a little chapfallen (there’s your Dandy Word O Day from Grammar!) but I’m sure will enjoy exploring a bit of the Confederation’s youngest province with us.

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FKK and I recently came up with what we think is a brilliant business idea, so if there are any entrepreneurs out there, listen up. These days there are many people who work from home, as well as increasing numbers of retired Baby Boomers at home much of the day. Everyone knows how successful ice cream trucks are in the summer (obnoxious repetitive tinny music notwithstanding). Why not have a roving coffee truck, bringing designer coffees and tasty pastries around the neighbourhood at appropriate morning and afternoon coffee break times? Does this not seem like something that would be instantly a huge success? Now, if you choose to take up this idea, FKK and I don’t expect any royalties. However, we would really like it if you called your business, including all future franchises, Jolly Mr. Beverage. We have our reasons.

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And finally, I watched a YouTube of Robin Williams on Letterman the other day. Turns out his son has a degree in Linguistics just like Grammar does. (Williams’ son, that is. Letterman’s son is only about three years old, so that would be a tad precocious, even for Hollywood. Or especially for Hollywood.) When asked what one does with a degree in Linguistics, Williams quipped: You open a Sentence Repair Shop. To the rest of the world, this was a tiny tidbit of comedy. To me – a dream! A Sentence Repair Shop! How fun would that be??? Sigh. Jolly Mrs. Sentence.

Hands up all those who have not bought a house recently

Househunting is a hard gig. As most of you know, we thought we had found our new home this past week. It had everything we wanted, was on a lovely quiet street not far from our current home, and had many wonderful(-looking) updates inside.

There was a great flurry of activity as we offered and counter-offered, agreed on a price, spoke with lawyers and banks, and jumped into major high gear in an effort to get our current place totally ready for marketing before leaving on our vacation in three weeks.

And then there was the big let-down when the house inspection revealed a number of major flaws in the place, certainly more than we were willing to accept for the agreed-on price, but in fact even more than we were prepared to deal with rectifying at any price. The entire basement suite in the house, brand new and beautiful, turned out to have been installed by unskilled amateurs. A lot of it would have had to be redone. We were offput and the deal was kaput.

And so we keep looking. But in the meantime -- we leave on our big holiday three weeks today!! So much still to be done, so really, thank goodness we haven’t just bought a house! There’s a trip to Bellis Fair to be made for a last hunt for sparkly outfits. There are beauty appointments to be booked (sigh. One tries). Dry cleaning to be taken in. Your entire wardrobe has to be laid out on the bed and combinations and permutations considered. Practice packing then ensues. More dry cleaning may be necessary. And then, of course, it must all be laid out on the bed again. If you are a man reading this and think I’m making this up, locate the nearest female person of pretty much any age and ask her. Seriously. We have to do this.

Then there are notes to be composed for idiot offspring who couldn’t possibly be expected to perform such complex tasks as putting out the garbage, bringing in the mail, locking the door, feeding the cats and flushing the toilet if not left detailed instructions pertaining to these activities. (Not to mention genuinely complex instructions about taping my TV shows!)

In our basement-clearing frenzy of late, we advised The Lad that the drum set he inherited from his grandpa had to be dealt with. He dusted it off and polished it up and did some repairs, then began checking online and with experts he knows through work, and discovered to all of our astonishments that it is worth several THOUSAND dollars! Apparently its particular make and model is considered a Cadillac of vintage drum sets. We had no idea! He does not intend to sell it at this time, however, but instead, after having it properly refurbished, will install it in his studio at work to attract high-caliber session musicians. The Lad is admirably devoted to the task of expanding his career, and has indeed been doing so quite successfully in the past few months in particular.

And on a final note, VCCGirl is enjoying school thus far. Her Accommodations instructor is hot, her Tourism instructor is a stand-up comic, her Math instructor is a dead ringer for Albert Einstein (and a bit of a potty-mouth), they’ve been playing fun icebreaker games in Communications, and they’re learning to pour shots in Food and Beverage Operations. What’s not to like?

These are two of VCCGirl's actual instructors. The one on the left is the Tourism teacher. I don't think you need me to tell you who the one on the right is.

Grammar and the Metaphorical Hill

51 years ago today the world gained a syntax savant, identified throughout the years by various names such as Pussycat, Go-to-Your-Room, Sheljar, Lundi, Lovebug, Mom, and latterly, Grammar Moses. Grammar’s pappy, Solomon, sent her a lovely birthday poem which suggested that when I “cross over the hill”, he’ll “love me still”.

Oh, I have crossed. I have made it up the spring side of the hill, which is carved with measured steps but full of prickle-bushes and boulders, causing detours large and small. Many loving hands helped me navigate that slope to the summerlands atop the hill.

I found two babies on the spring side of my hilltop, and, setting them upon their own hills and showing them how to climb, I moved swiftly across my summer meadows. Reaching the far side, I looked back and saw my children nearing the top of their slopes, marching strongly with characters made fit and confident by the challenges of the upward journey and surrounded by friends.

So now I’m headed down the autumn side, and have discovered that it’s very different from the slow and winding upward trek. This slope is coated in slick, rainforest-damp moss and I’m on the bobsled to winter.

Well. All one can do is dig in one’s heels and enjoy the ride and the beautiful fall scenery as long as it lasts!

I’m moved to hillside metaphor by my own birthday, but also by VCCGirl, my younger and last baby, heading off this morning for her first day of college. As she drove away in her old red car, a bundle of nerves and anticipation, I clung to the doorframe to stop myself running down the street after her. No, wait! Mommy has to come with you! You won’t know where to park! You won’t know how to find your classrooms! The other kids might be mean to you! You were only in kindergarten a few days ago -- how can you be driving off to college????

I know I’m very lucky, though. I am lucky firstly that her college is 20 minutes’ drive from our house and at the end of the day VCCGirl will come back to me. I am lucky secondly (and indeed it is one of the greatest blessings of my life) that we have a close and confiding relationship, and VCCGirl will happily sit down with her old mom and share all her first impressions of instructors, courses, and potentially datable classmates. Although it may seem like a fall day outside, I’ll be reliving spring with my daughter. What a great birthday present!