The Quack, issue twenty-five
Oh hey! How are you? It's nice to see you.
Hey, do you use Facebook? What a weird thing, Facebook. I remember reading in about 2007, when it was still new and exciting, that Facebook was the solution to a problem we didn't know we had.
Facebook is always coming up with new ways for you to interact with its content, and I'm usually an early skeptic. Scroll far enough back on my timeline and you'll see me proudly proclaim that "I will never 'like' anything, ever."
Facebook doesn't roll its features out to every user at the same time, so I often see these things on my friends' updates before they're offered to me. "Memories" is a good example. Other people were sharing their memories for more than a year before I logged in one day to find a five-year-old status update of mine staring at me from the top of my newsfeed.
Like a good skeptic, I vowed (quietly this time) never to share one of these memories, though it took less than a week before I actually did. I haven't done it again since, but I've come to love the memories that are offered to me.
They start with a nostalgic punch in the gut, because inevitably the photo will be of one of my children. I don't think I'll ever master the skill of looking at a photo of those guys when they were littler without having the urge to ball my eyes out. But, you know, in, like, a good way.
Next comes the fun part. I click on the photo so I can read the comments. It's a spontaneous trip back in time to re-live a fun conversation. People I've known from my wanderings who have absolutely no reason to be interacting with each other other than to drop a clever comment about how adorable my kids are.
Which they are.
Sometimes, the comment thread includes friends who are no longer living, and there's the other punch in the gut. But again, not in a bad way. I get to see our friendship play out on the screen.
Anway. All that is to say, this morning Facebook wanted me to see Jane's old recipe for poison. Enjoy!
O Canada
The Globe and Mail posted a giant crossword puzzle for Canada Day. It's in today's deadwood copy of the paper, and available online. We printed it out, pasted it together, and taped it to the whiteboard in our office to pick away at over lunch.
It's a pretty easy puzzle, as puzzles go, but it is fun, and it is massive. With more than 600 clues, it'll keep you busy for a day or two.
(I see it's behind the Globe's paywall now, which is a shame. I don't know how I was able to download it a few days ago.)
O Canada 2
Our family's natural instinct is to walk deliberately in the opposite direction of crowds, so we spent a good chunk of Canada Day at Greenwich in Prince Edward Island National Park.
It turns out, the most fun thing you can do is sit on a log on the beach watching the northern gannets fish for mackerel. They soar along the coast, scanning the water. When they see something tasty, they dive straight into the water and hit the surface with a terrific splash.
"Oh there's one!"
"I think he's going to go for it."
"He's diving!"
"There he goes!"
"BOOM!"
(That last word has to be shouted in unison by five people in order for the full effect to occur.)
In praise of
While Erin was taking Henry out for his birthday lunch on Monday (samosas at Kettle Black and nachos at Merchantman, if you must know), I got to spend a few hours with the girls. We caught a performance of the Confederation Centre Young Company. This year's show is called The Dream Catcher, which the Confed Centre website says "weaves the dreams and visions of young people from across the country into a moving, original new musical."
The show is very Canada 150, so I was prepared to roll my eyes through most of it, but it was really well done. This isn't a mindless waving of the flag. The performers are all real people with real stories, so it has a much more authentic feel than the standard smile-smile-smile Yay Canada! fare. If there's one thing I appreciate about Canada 150, it's that the indigenous people of this land have jumped up to grab the microphone.
After the show, the girls asked if we could tour through the Confed Centre Art Gallery, which was literally just down the hall. I knew there were a couple of new exhibits on, so I happily said yes.
It was terrific. Most of the gallery is taken up with an exhibit of paintings from the centre's permanent collection, many of which haven't been displayed in years. The girls had only a half-an-hour in them for looking at old pictures, but I could have spent all day there. I can't wait to go back.
Here's to you, Confederation Centre of the Arts. I salute you.
Mini scores
These are my scores this week for the Daily Mini crossword from The New York Times. As usual, if this isn't your thing, skip to the story!
Monday: 1:07
Tuesday: 0:35
Wednesday: 1:05
Thursday: 1:55
Friday: 3:34
Saturday: 3:26
Sunday: 0:41
Story
Erin picked me up just before noon on Friday and we went for lunch. We never do this, but we had a gift certificate burning a hole in our pockets.
We went to Bar 1911, a new coffee shop/bar in Charlottetown that will be just fine, once it has a year or two get scuffed up.
Bar 1911 is in the basement of the 1911 Jail, which also houses the Pizza Delight. Because we were in the basement, the few windows look out at foot level. As I sat chatting to Erin, I spotted a mini-van drive into the lot. Out jumped a small family, including a little girl gripped by the kind of excitement that can only be experienced when you're three and you're about to walk into your favourite pizza place.
She danced and skipped as her mum tried desperately to get her to hold a hand. I thought I caught her eye as she walked passed the window, but she kept on her way and was gone from sight.
And then she was back. She had freed herself from the shackles of Mum's hand and was standing in the window. Her eyes huge, she looked right at me. In that moment, perfect understanding passed silently between two people.
I am about to eat some pizza with Mum and Grandma!
I nodded. I smiled. I waved.
She was gone before Erin could turn around to see who I was waving at.
"Who was that?"
"Just a little girl in the parking lot."
"Oh, I thought it was someone you knew really well."
"It maybe was."
Phew! You made it! Great job! Do a couple laps and hit the showers.
My middle-grade novels Wereduck and Cure for Wereduck are both on Goodreads. Could you take a moment to pop over to review them? Thanks very much. It really does make a difference.
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(Please excuse any typos this week. I couldn't bear to wake my copy editor early the morning after Canada Day. Thakns.)
See you next Sunday!