Been a while since I’ve blogged. Sixteen days in Newfoundland followed by going straight back to the work week. There was little time left for sitting and contemplating.
Home was good. Met up with several friends and family members. Went to three movies (Star Wars twice and Creed). Saw a hockey game. And ventured out to Mallard Cottage for a fine meal.
The downside of the trip was I spent the last six days of the sixteen fighting a cold. So I went approximately two weeks between a case of the flu in Ottawa and a common cold in Newfoundland. The poor old immune system has taken a beating.
I got back to Ottawa near midnight on the 28th (going into the 29th). My cab drove up to the house with green grass showing and only small dustings of snow. In less than two hours, it was a world of white out there. It continued on through the entire day of the 29th and resulted in my first snow day from work since I moved to Ottawa.
Yesterday was my first snowshoeing trek of the new year. I was out for an hour and it really did feel like my first time. I got home sweaty and lead legged. Still, it was good to be out getting some exercise in the woods.
At the same time that I was snowshoeing, my parents were on a plane heading to Florida. I was never much of a Florida fan. Always figured there were more places than that to go get away from winter. But after last March’s visit there, I can see why people are drawn. Be near friends and family in warm weather with many things to be able to do and see… I could have been convinced to give up the snowshoes for a plane ticket yesterday. Especially now that tonight is coming with frostbite warnings.
There has been many highlights to the last few weeks.
I love Christmas shopping with mom and dad in downtown St. John’s. Walking along Water Street. Ducking in to small shops. Turning up a walking lane way to be able to have lunch in a favourite pub. We pretty much knew what we were getting each other. In some cases, getting the gift receiver to try on a sweater or size up a bag that ends up wrapped and under the tree. But it doesn’t matter. Downtown ventures like this beat the mall any day.
Mallard Cottage is the best restaurant for me. It’s a night of coziness. You head down to Quidi Vidi Village, all tucked away from the urban sprawl of the rest of the city. You then slip in through the door of what looks to be a small home. You are then either seated in fireplace warmed rooms where seating more than half a dozen would make for a crowd or you slide into the larger room where you can watch the work of the kitchen staff while still maintaining a quiet chat.
There’s something magical about Star Wars. From the blaring trumpets announcing the bold yellow title upon a background of stars, to the World War I style dogfights of fighter ships. Seeing an unknown alien just sitting in the corner of a bar for a drink or listening to a droid “beep boop” on to its human master… It’s nearly impossible to not enjoy a Star Wars night at the movies. Though it seems many have tried. Since watching the film twice already (I don’t rule out a third viewing before it leaves cinemas), I’ve watched internet writers and bloggers pick it apart. Star Wars is one of those things I just let myself be immersed in. Some scenes in it drive my imagination. Other scenes bring me back to my childhood. I simply don’t want to look for faults in the movie. Though, to be fair, I have a hard time watching the 2nd instalment in the franchise. That was indeed a fairly painful movie. But each of the other six simply bring me sci-fi happiness.
My trips home are never long enough. I can be home for a long weekend or I can be home for three weeks. No matter what, I leave having not done all I had hoped to do. Be it missing out on a visit with a friend or not having gotten to a favourite place to hike or walk. I’m always left sitting at the gate at the airport gently shaking my head at the fact that I missed out on one thing or another. I guess that’s why I still call it home.
That said, St. John’s is becoming a less pretty city as time goes on. Sure, downtown is as good as it gets and a ten minute drive past the city limits has you overlooking the sea from jutting cliffs that rise several hundred feet into the air. But the main streets of the city are busier and each trip home sees fewer forested enclaves and more parking lot encased box stores. And, especially along the busier streets, home owners are more likely to use lawns for extra parking than gardens or trees. Still, there’s something solid about being able to return to the neighbourhood where you grew up and to enter the house of your childhood. It makes me very much of homebody on visits back home. I always have to make sure to set aside several days of these trips to do nothing but linger around the house.
So all in all, another successful trip home. Sure I’d have loved to meet up with several friends that I missed. Or to see other friends more than the one time we got together. But I loved my time home regardless. And if you have to catch a cold for a week, I can think of no better place to do it than in the house where I grew up with parents there willing and able to take care of their sniffling, coughing boy.
