Sunday, August 21, 2011

Day 10: Take Advantage of the Opportunities that Present Themselves

The most telling thing about the path my husband and I are on in our relationship is that the best things in our life just seem to happen out of the blue. Opportunities seem to present themselves, we go with the flow and then we find ourselves with a new dog or a new house that we were not in the market to buy or we find ourselves re-decorating the house in one weekend. If you had told me a couple of days ago that we would have a couple of beta fish in addition to our frogs, birds and dog I might have laughed. But now we have them. Last Monday if you had told me that I
would be heading to Montreal to meet a talent agent for my daughter I would have responded with "I wish!". Well, it happened. Last Monday night on a whim while I was surfing the net (and consequently not writing) I found an agency.These days everyone from Elite to Ford allows for online applications Orange Model Management included. My daughter by my side I filled out the application and sent off a few snapshots. I didn't think much of it and made sure my daughter wasn't getting lost in rosy visions of instant stardom. The next afternoon the agency called and asked if we could be in Montreal Thursday for a meeting with one of their agents. OK, so I admit to indulging in a few visions             
 myself after that call!                                                            
They were interested in Maggie. On a whim I said 'yes'. I made arrangements to be free from work that day then spent the rest of the afternoon googling 'reputable'+agency+Orange Model etc. There were mixed reviews and I had my doubts. So did my husband. But fate was once more opening a door for us. Hubby and I decided to go for it. It is summer after all and we were free to take the day trip. If anything, we thought, taking this trip would be great for many reasons. Our children have never been to Montreal. A trip to meet an agent would be an experience that our daughter would never forget. If offered a contract and everything was on the up and up then wonderful! If not, then our daughter would learn a valuable lesson about the business. Wonderful! We drove up the night before and settled into the pleasantly opulent Place D'arms Hotel in the Old Quarter of Montreal. I can't remember ever staying in a hotel with hardwood floors! The next morning Hubby attended mass at the Basilica around the corner then took the boys for an adventurous day around town. Maggie and I had a delightful continental breakfast of croissants and jam before heading to run errands. First stop: A photo shop to print up pictures of Maggie to show the agent. Second Stop: The Gap to find a white shirt for Maggie to wear to the interview. Apparently wearing white shows off your colouring. Third stop: Back to the hotel to wash up and get ready. Then we were on our way. The agency was a few short blocks down from the hotel in a gorgeous old building. The lobby was huge. It was covered in marble and brass and filled with young urban professionals walking to and fro. Once in the office we were met with bright orange walls and a lovely young receptionist. We filled out some paperwork then were greeted by "J"; the agent. He welcomed us into his office and we had our meeting.


After some discussion and a lot of questions J. offered Maggie a one-year contract. He told us to take it home and have a good look at it before signing. We left the office with wings on our feet despite my lecturing Maggie again about not getting her hopes up too high. We were going to take this slow. One runway step at a time so to speak!  We had time to kill before meeting the boys so we wandered around until we found a beautiful old style French restaurant. Hubby and I had informed the kids that while we were in Quebec we were going to do our best to only speak French. I had spent the morning asking "Avez-vous des vetement pour les enfants?" and "Sil-vous-plait, ou est le Gap?" The waiter at the restaurant took my cue and would not answer Maggie unless she spoke French. He was also quick to bring me a Danish beer and Belgian waffles for desert. We met the boys shortly after our decadent lunch and listened as they shared their stories of the Science Centre, the Indiana Jones exhibit, their metro ride and their visit to the Juste Pour Rire theatre. On the way home we stopped at St. Hubert for dinner. I decided I wanted to rent Bad Cop Bon Cop   again as we travelled the road towards Ontario.

We had a great time indulging in our whimsical nature and will keep you posted on what is to come ...in the meantime I am going to keep my attenae alert for opportunities in the writing world!


Sunday, August 14, 2011

Day 9: Attend Your Kids Soccer Tournaments

Saturday broke hot and steamy. The sun was relentless and it beat down on us as early as ten a.m. while we set up our gear. We were behind an industrial park surround by hill and vale and soccer field upon soccer field. The flocks of girls coloured the fields. We set up our chairs, coolers and umbrellas, ready for the onslaught of games for the day. Game after game our girl persevered. She ran and kicked and ran some more. In between runs the coach spritzed the girls with water. Some teams had tents donated by their sponsors. Others took cover in the bush to the far side of the fields. By four p.m. the porta-potty had run out of toilet paper and there was....well, lets just say it was out of order. The games were hard and the girls were strong. There were collisions and bumps and bruises. Some intentional. Most were not. How do I know? The games were peppered with "whoopsie!" and "Oh! I'm sorry" and "Are you OK?".  The girls tournament would have gone much faster for the seconds spent reassuring each other. The girls really knew how to play, but it was a pleasant surprise to hear that they were still delicate and thoughtful enough to apologize to each other. Or maybe Canadian enough?!
Me with Maggie and her trophy.

Today the heat still sat over the fields. The sun hid behind the clouds and the sky was grey. Once again we came, we set up coolers and chairs and umbrellas. This time we hoped the rain would stay away. The boys were playing today. They ran, they kicked, they fumbled and fell. There were bumps and bruises and knocks. There were goalies hanging like monkeys from the goal posts and boys cartwheeling around the fields. This time though, there was less chatter. Instead the games lost seconds from boys stopping to lend a helping hand up. One team unfortunately lacked a sense of fair play. They threw grass, whined and threw out "In your face!" with each goal. Fortunately (thanks to karma) they didn't come away the champions.
Overall, my kids came away one with a trophy, one with a medal both with a shining example of teamwork, grace and sportsmanship.

Dylan with the ball.

                      Not much writing, but a lot to write home about!

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Day 8: Re-decorate your house.

Two weeks ago I was thrilled to begin my holidays. I was going to read and lie in the sun and go to the beach and, of course, write! Well, my holidays have ended and I have returned to work. I am tanned and well rested but have not written much in the way of a book.
I have however re-decorated a couple of rooms in my house.
One Saturday morning (actually, it was closer to noon) my husband announced that he was full of energy and we should therefore paint our 'reading room'. I jumped out of my chair excited at the prospect of such a project. Our first stop had nothing to do with the reading room. We went to Leon's to buy two new futons for our rec-room. The rec-room should be called the 'wreck' room. Six years of children playing 'wizards' and 'shopping mall' and mini-sticks takes a toll on a room. Six years of toddlers finding the smallest piece of crayon beneath the couch cushions and applying said crayon to the walls. Six years of fort building and fort wrecking and mayhem devised specifically for wrecking those couch cushions. Somehow the stuffing slowly seeped from the cushions. The coils and springs began to show. Can't find a DVD from Jumbo Video? Can't find mom's favourite mug? Can't find the neighbourhood kids socks? Just look inside the couch. A real treasure trove of surprises.
The 'Wreck' room: Before.

Stop number two: The Brick to buy a new love seat for the reading room. We are going with a hot little condo sized red number to brighten up the room. Which brings us to the paint store where hubby and I had a snarky tete-a-tete over which colour would best suit our little room. I was reminded of my inability to steadily paint the corners of a room. So one wall red, three walls cream was out. In the end we opted for the hemp coloured paint which I approved of mostly because I could see how easy it would be to relax in a hemp coloured environment.
Next stop: home. I cleared the little room of its books and papers, the piano and the tattered blue rug. I carried out the curtains and washed the walls. I taped the trim and set out our painting supplies.
I looked around. Something was missing. Oh! Yes! Hubby! Who only a few short hours beforehand had enthusiastically declared his intent to paint this room.
He was in the kitchen washing dishes.
OK. I started. I rolled the first coat then called hubby in to do the *ahem* corners and trim.
It was looking good.
The next morning I applied the second coat of paint. Hubby, who was again washing dishes, called from the kitchen: "You know? We really should paint the rec-room."
Back to the paint store where I chose (gleefully on my own this time!) an eye-popping lime green and a bloody tangerine.
I bribed the kids to wash the walls for me this time. Hubby was still in the kitchen.
End result?

The new and improved rec-room: After.

One new soothing, mutely coloured reading room with a red couch on the way for me to lay on when I am thinking about writing; and one refreshingly bright and clean rec-room once more fit for six upcoming years of the children's shenanigans!
Oh! And deliciously clean dishes!


Monday, August 1, 2011

Day 7: Get Swept Away With Your Girlfriends. Literally!

The night was still and quiet. The light of the stars stuck like pins in the black cloak of night and the colossal pine tree tops pricked the edge of the dark sky. Standing in the middle of a Canadian vision I stared up at what resembled an IMAX representation of the night sky. I was mesmerized and at once felt at peace.
Not so earlier in the day.
I had been exploring the campground with my friend C. We wandered down gravel trails lined with tents and pint sized trailers. We sauntered past great motor homes set on hills looking out to the mighty St. Lawrence river. We made our way down a narrow tree lined path and found ourselves on a small out-of-the-way dock lined with jet ski's and boats. Here the river branched off into small channels and inlets dotted with just a few of the 1000 Islands. We faced a narrow channel, rocks on each side that slid down into the water like a 'v'. The middle of the waterway was a deep clean green-blue colour and we could see a current flowing out towards the greater part of the river.
Boys were doing laps. Swimming hard against the current, floating back to their starting point and swimming again. Groups of friends were sitting on noodles and on life jackets. They floated down the channel with the current, climbed out of the water, followed a trail back up to the far end of the water then repeated the journey with laughter and smiles. It was a natural 'lazy-river'.
My friend and I noticed some of the riders floating around the bottom point of an island and others coming around the top point of the same island.
We decided we should do the same.
The sun was shining and the air was muggy. It was a hot day. We raced back to our campsite and collected our friend N. We fairly flew to the tuck shop to purchase floaties and flutter boards. We headed to the beach to collect our friend R.
C. and I in our trusty floaties.

C. and I praised the paradise we had seen. We spoke eloquently of the 'idyllic lagoon' and the lazy-river just waiting beyond the hill. We worked ourselves into a frenzy of excitement as we led our un-suspecting selves and friends back to the water's edge.
Our friends ooohed and aawwwed over the sight. C. jumped in first and treaded water in wait. I was next and did the same. R. came splashing behind me and N. cautiously took her time climbing off the dock while we started panting with the exertion of resting against the current that one regular boater had described to us as being 'stronger than usual today'!

Our first indication that this adventure might not turn out as expected was N. losing a shoe. It fell to the depths of the river much to N's despair. By this time I was floating on. We agreed optimistically that the shoe would be recovered later and we allowed ourselves to merge with the current and begin the ride of a lifetime! Slowly we rounded the bottom of the 'Virgin' island. Looking up to the top wall of rock we discovered the island was named so due to a statue of the Virgin Mary overlooking the river...and again....optimistically, we thought, overlooking our journey.
Wrong.
A great current was flowing on the far side of the island. We swam towards it. Laughing, comparing ourselves to the turtles in Finding Nemo. We were going to ride the current just like them.
I reached the current first shouting, laughing 'Here we go! Get ready guys!'
All of a sudden I was travelling backwards. I was flowing fast, and far. Away from my friends and away from the watchful eyes of Mary. By then R. had joined me. Our eyes wide and our mouths full of water after dropping jaws emitted loads of laughter at our own expense. No worries! We decided to stay close to the island and follow the shallows. C. caught up with us towing N. behind as her laughter weakened her ability to fight the current. It was not to be. The slime covered rocks challenged our footing and the current reached in to the crevices and pools trying to pull us back out. C. climbed a knotty path to scout out a route over the island back to the original channel that would deposit us safely back to the dock from which we optimistically began our journey. Meanwhile N. had sliced her toe on a sharp rock and was wounded in spirit as well as physiologically. We faltered in resolve.
Repairing N.'s toe.
All of a sudden C. announced we had an audience. While we had been comparing ourselves to turtles the inhabitants of Mary's private island had been enjoying a quiet garden party. They ogled C. as though she was an alien species that had climbed out of the river.
We were informed that we were trespassing and ordered back into the river. Despite informing the *ahem* gentleman that our friend was bleeding and despite relaying our doubts in being able to swim against the current to return to our roots, the man blithely reminded us that we did have floaties and that we had no choice but to jump back in the river. Dismayed at his lack of grace (Mary was right there listening in on our conversation) we slid back into the current and let it carry us back around the bottom of the island. We clung to the forbidden rocks on the island side of the channel where the current had weakened until we were able to forge our way across to the dock.
                              The Story of St. Lawrence

The good news? We recovered N.'s shoe. Bad news?  Whew! Way too tired to write after that swim!Saints preserve us.