Happy Canadian Thanksgiving

Happy Canadian Thanksgiving!!!  Canadian Thanksgiving always seems too early to me, but no matter.  It is always a good time to be grateful for what we have.  As you guys already know, I am definitely a glass half full not a glass half empty kind of person, and I am, indeed, grateful.  

Another week in the life of....

....there's bridge, of course.  Had to take this picture, me all dressed up for winter in my fur hat and coat and gloves and boots, and partner Alex in his shorts.....

I have enough winter clothes for the next ice age, but never get a chance to wear them, because I'm always in the desert before it gets cold enough.  It has been unseasonably chilly - okay, it's not Manitoba, but it is cold for here - so I have trotted out all my winter stuff.  (David wasn't much of a present giver, but he bought me both hat and coat, and I always feel surrounded by him when I wear these.  The hat is trimmed with possum, and was bought in New Zealand.....)

Friends John and Dennis and I took advantage of one of these fall-like days and went on a 10 1/2 kilometer walk around Burnaby Lake on Wednesday....

.......and followed it with a decadent lunch at the White Spot.....

.....for those of you who don't know, the White Spot is a Canadian institution - kind of like the USA's Dennie's, except without the racism.  Although they are known for their hamburgers, I have never been very fond of their hamburgers.  Their chicken pot pies, however, are to die for.  And, since we are approaching Canadian Thanksgiving, they have brought back their pumpkin pie milk shakes.  I know, it sounds dreadful, but it is actually yummy.....

More walks in the fall foliage.......

....and, on Friday night, friend Tom collected a group of us for dinner at Brava Cuchina (my new favourite Italian restaurant on the North Shore....)

.....  and the theater.  The dinner, was, as usual, fabulous.  The theater, not so much.  It was, if you will, experimental theater - what it means to be black, don't you know - and, amidst all the cursing and the scatalogical references, it didn't tall me anything I didn't already know.  But that's the thing about live theater - sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't.  I rarely regret going, however...... luckily there was no intermission, so I didn't get a chance to leave before it was over....

Metropolitan Opera in the movies on Saturday with Jack, on the other hand, was fabulous.  It was the first transmission on the season, and they did the Franco Zeffirelli production of Turandot, Puccini's last opera.  Now, Turandot is not my favourite opera, but this may be the best production I ever saw/heard.  Christine Goerke was a great Turandot (although I think she was a better Brunhilde.  I never noticed the similarities in the roles before - both lose their "godliness" and are awakened by a hero to the power of love), and Leu, Calaf and Timur were also great, as were Ping, Pang and Pong as the comic relief.  .  That's the thing about the Met - every singer, every chorus member, every member of the orchestra - they are all great.  Always. 

The only sad thing was that the production was dedicated to Zeffirelli, who died last month at the age of 96.  They showed a film of him as a (much) younger man, back stage at a number of his famous opera productions at the Met.  He was truly a force of nature, and it was sad to think of him dead, and how different he must have been than his younger, vibrant self when I died. 

As I've mentioned, I am heading for the desert in less than 2 weeks.  At a certain point in this process, my mind definitely turns south, and it has done that now.  The next few weeks will be a rush of good bye lunches, dinners, and bridge games, starting with dim sum today with friend Joyce.  We went to our favourite, Fisherman's Terrace, and it didn't disappoint...

Only two books to report this week.  The first is Michael Robotham's Close Your Eyes, a thriller.  I don't usually read thrillers, but this is definitely an author I would read again.  Finally, The Discreet Hero, by Peruvian writer Mario Vargas Llosa.    His Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter - I must have read it 20 years ago or more - got me hooked, and this one, although quieter was also a good read.  And the endings of both were just right.....

I may of may not report again before I leave, but will for sure as soon as I get to Palm Springs.  I am glad to be reporting again, and glad, from the look of the audience for the blog, you guys are still with me.  Thank you.

I didn't want it to end that way......

No, I'm not talking about life, I'm talking about a book.  Just finished a book called The Lonely Hearts Hotel, by Heather O'Neill, a Canadian writer, apparently well known, but new to me.  A wonderful writer - she brought flapper, boot-legging, depression-era Montreal to life.  But I liked her heroes - two orphans - and wanted them to come to a different end.  I have heard many interviews with authors (mostly on CBC), and they all say that the characters develop a life of their own.  But I wish.........

Otherwise, life is just going on.  Books aside, I am still melancholy over Artie's death.  I think I made the right decision not to go to the funeral - too much going on, no quality time with Ruth (his wife) or David (his son) or cousin Ellen (if she even made it to the funeral from Scranton).  But I feel rather cowardly nonetheless (it certainly wasn't the money...).  And fearful, too, that I may have  missed my only chance to see Ruth.  So often, with long marriages such as this one, the remaining spouse dies shortly after the first one goes.

On the other hand, the women in the family have all outlasted the men by many years.....

Also, one time friend Michael, as I might have mentioned, is in palliative care dying of pancreatic cancer.  Michael and I have been estranged for years, and it would be hypocritical to see him now.  (I might forgive him his transgressions against me, but he was awful to David - David was not a stupid man, but Michael used his brilliance like a rapier - and I will not forgive Michael for that....)

Anyway, lots of social stuff, as always happens just before I head south for the winter..

....bridge, of course.  Alex and I are still playing two times a week most weeks,but I have found another partner for my third outing.  Diana is a bit nervous- she gets anxious over her playing - but is lively and cheerful, and, most important, forgiving of her partner's foibles.  I swear, finding a suitable bridge partner is almost as hard as finding a life partner....(whenever I tease Alex that he is going to trade me in for a younger model, he keeps on saying, no, it is so hard to train a new partner...) Anyway, Diana and I have played several times in recent weeks, with a modicum of success.  Both of us think it is worth working on the partnership.  Another bonus;  she is a symphony fan, and an opera fan, and, miracle of miracles, even a Wagner fan (Alex, god bless him, doesn't have a cultural bone in his body....).  And you can't have too many friends - especially when they keep dying off on me....

Thursday was friend Robin's birthday, and I got to wish her a happy birthday in person at the bridge club.....

.....there she is with her partner Craig, still drop-dead gorgeous as she was in law school 45 years ago....

....while I had the camera out, I took a picture of two of my favourites, Mike and Rich, waiting for their table and planning strategy ....

Friday, met friend Eric for coffee.  Between travels and politics and the state of the universe, we never seem to run out of things to talk about,,.

Still walking a few hours a day....

..and, seeing as it's a lovely fall day and I have nothing else to do (house cleaned - albeit by someone else -  bills paid...), I'll be heading out for another, perhaps longer, walk today...