Chapter 1 – The Beach
I thought the half-marathon experience would be hard to top. I took my time recovering from the muscle pain with some more running on the treadmill and more mouse clicking applying to jobs. It all worked perfectly, I have to (somewhat sarcastically) admit, since my muscles are now nicely aligned again, while my career is still waiting in some corner, most probably observing me some more.
Anyway, I was wrong. The unexpected truly works in mysterious ways (‘work’ here being a key word, ahem). Because it makes way for the most amazing experiences when you least expect them. This is how an invitation to a barbecue on a Saturday afternoon can lead to having a great-hippie-freedom-all-around evening on the same day. Lake Ontario and I have started to befriend since the very first time I laid my eyes on it. What I did not realize is it can have such wildly wonderful beaches. We ended up on one of these beaches on Saturday evening, and I could not believe the similarity I found with the Romanian ones by the sea, especially 2 Mai, of course. And here’s how I got the home feeling again, due to the never-go-wrong combination of waves, sand and fire. I could spend whole nights before a fire on a beach, the mere sound of these two elements combined is enough for me to instantly fall in a trance. The kind of trance that leaves me full of great energy and courage and connection to those important questions in life: who am I, why am I? And also the kind of trance that makes me superficial enough to be able to confidently say “I don’t know, ‘and frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn’, I will always have the sound of waves and fire” and that’s as good of an answer as anything else.
I could go on rambling forever, since writing about it takes me right back there and then, to all the times I stood on the beach, between the sea, the stars and the fire. But I will share some of the photos we took instead, so I can selfishly revisit this post later on, I admit.
Chapter 2 – The Presents
Mother’s Day is all I really have to say to make this one obvious, not unexpected. In my defense, this was the first Mother’s Day celebrated on the 14th of May. Back in Romania it was all nicely wrapped on the 8th of March, International Women’s Day + Mother’s Day, two in one special offer. Now here, I find Mother’s Day is very special, it’s the day when kids serve their mothers breakfast in bed (not my case this year, but wait till next year, haha), when the family goes out for either brunch or lunch or when mothers have some nice time-out at a spa together with their mothers or daughters or lady-friends. My translation is: no cooking and self-caring day for moms. Hallelujah!
Anyway, I got my cards and drawings from my kids, which I obviously loved and which, unexpectedly, made me burst into laughter. No, not all of them.
This one because it’s the billionth time I am convinced Lia is a true artist, be it simply because she is able to give such a beautiful rendition of me. I always look great in her drawings and I always wish her drawings were photos, because then I’d look the same in real life. Well, never mind, what made me laugh is that she can best picture me with my unicorn t-shirt (I have one that says the exact words in her drawing). What can I say, mother’s daughter, she gets impressed with fantastic characters.
She also writes perfect letters and makes perfect self – portraits. ?
Ma premiere carte en francais!!?
And this one because, well, it was supposed to be in French. And Rares, in his infinite stand-up-comedy style, fills it in with ‘I don’t speak French, so Happy Mother’s Day!’, in Romanian. Laughing as I write.???
Chapter 3 – The Question
One of the reasons I’m having fun almost daily is due to diversity. And probably because I observe it, can’t help it, but I realized having a background in learning makes me constantly observe and instantly give a learning meaning to almost everything I experience. Good, bad, don’t know, but can’t help it.
One of the daily walks is to Lia’s school, either morning or afternoon, we take turns (as we are responsible parents ?). The school is very close to where we live and so we usually walk by more or less the same parents and children every day.
I was on my way back from the school when I hear a boy asking:
‘Where are you from?’
I looked around, shocked, as adults usually are when children address them questions out of the blue. By the way, why are adults so dazzled by children initiating conversations with them? Is it because we don’t take children too seriously, we don’t think they are ‘mature’ enough to start a conversation, are we patronizing them by default?
On topic, again, after the few seconds I needed to recover and realize he was actually talking to me, I dumbly say:
‘Where are you from?’
‘Oh, I’m from Romania.’
‘Hm, I see.’
He was a bit disappointed in saying that, and he frowned. Which disturbed me even more and now made me curious enough to ask:
‘Because your language is similar to ours.’
And here his tone of voice was that of an almost upset young man. Which eventually made me ask the most logical question of all:
‘Where are you from?’
‘I’m from Poland’ he said, turned around and away.
Well that made my day! I was so incredibly surprised and amused, that I could not stop displaying a full smile on my face, thinking ‘only in Canada’ can you experience this just like that, out of the blue, on your way from school. It was an almost childhood experience for me in Life 2.0.
Unexpected, I’ll be waiting for you some more.❤