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This was Thanksgiving weekend with the fam in BedBrock. The itinerary: Saturday, October 12, 6:15 p.m.: Expect to leave Montreal, but wait for 30 minutes because of some bad transfer from the Halifax train. Get to my parents place at 9 p.m. My mom and I are pretty similar. She analyzes the things she sees around her, and she likes to talk about them. Sadly, no one around her likes to do any of that. She also doesn't like spelling mistakes, bad grammar or stupid people. I think that is why Mom seems to really like it when I am down, so that I will talk to her. The problem is that we care about very different things, and aren't usually on the same page at the same time. This weekend was different, though, somehow. I am never down enough, or for very long. I should be there more. Maybe when things get back on track financially I will do that. I spent the rest of that evening alternating between watching TV with and talking to my mom, and watching TV and talking to my dad. Dad is a very caring person. He doesn't really want for much. He is a doting father and grandfather. I enjoy seeing him with my sister's kids. They love him. He's a big black teddy bear. I got early birthday presents!!! I will take pictures of my booty (not THAT booty, Ms. M!!) much the way Crystal did it in July. Sunday, October 13, 2:30 p.m.:We went over to my sister's palce for Thanksgiving dinner. Her husband, JP (funny, isn't it?) has a brother much younger than him called Jerome, a number of years younger than me, actually (I think he's 21), who actually joined us. I like him. I've only met him once five years ago at my sister's wedding. He brought with him his girlfriend, Andrea. I must say, she definitely has a number of good attributes. (!) Apparently Jerome and JP's father has concerns about her because she didn't go to university. In fact, she followed him from BC to Ontario for his schooling, and they will return to BC when he is finished in 2004. I got to see Olivia and Jared (I'd LOVE to post pictures of them, but my sister probably wouldn't like that. Take it from me, they're beautiful.), her kids, again. Olivia is pretty much a perfect child. They never had to childproof their house, because if someone tells her not to touch something, she won't. Ever. Jared is the complete opposite, for which I am thankful. Their lives would be too perfect otherwise. JP is a VP at a Catholic high school, my sister is a teacher, they live a little ways out of the city in a large white house, they have wholesome neighbours. Everything is going according to plan for them. And that's quite good for them, too, because I'd hate to see what would happen if something didn't go according to plan. I shouldn't talk that way about my sister, as though I don't like her. I do like her, actually, it's just that I am so used to not liking her that certain things just come out. Her and I had a pretty good time, along with everyone else. Sunday, October 13, 8:30 p.m.:The last stop was at my brother's place. This is where it got lively. You may recall that he got into some trouble last year. Well, he now has his job back, his wife quite hers, and he can travel again, although he is not out of the woods yet. I should point out that he is actually my half-brother. You see, what typcialy happens in the West Indies is that a strapping, virile young man will womanize as much as he can, producing any number of children by any number of women, then finally settling down on one woman at some point in his life. Meanwhile, women will often have several children by different men, but she will have the burden of kepping and taking care of all of her children. This is why my brother's father isn't my father. This is why I have a 50-year-old sister here in town, and why I have a niece 8 years older than me. But the ones that I grew up with (2 boys, 2 girls) are the ones I consider my brothers and sisters. My brother's father and family live in Montreal's West Island. They just happened to be down visiting when I stopped over. I have not seen these people since 1979. Their kids weren't even born then; they are now 17 and 12. They are quite a family; the mother is white, really nice and easy-going (you;d have to me married to her husband), but she looks plain. A plain Jane. Basically nothing noteworthy, at least physically; I don't know her that well. The man himself is black, although not quite as dark as me. Long, long DREAD LOCKS. He is in his sixties, and even his hair looks old. But he is LIVELY. LOUD! When I called over I could barely hear anything because he was talking so loud in his thick Trinidadian accent. However, it's the kids that are the most interesting. The boy's name is a combination of his parents' names. He is 17 years old, 6-foot-4, 215 pounds (pure muscle) DOWN from 240. Massive. He is as white (skin colour only) as many Italians or Greeks, but his hair is all black. So "black", that his locks are like thick tentacles. You know those hats with the fake dreadlocks coming out of them? His hair looks like that. It's just that they are so perfect, people often wonder if he is wearing a wig. The girl's name is her brother's name, backwards. She just turned 12 years old. Now I have a niece almost 14, another who just turned 11. I don't expect either of them to be taller than 5'4" ever. This girl is 5'9". It's unbelievable, really. She's 12, for Christ's sake. And she's going to be a knockout in a few years. It scares me. She will turn heads, and break hearts, but betweem her father and her brother, she will be VERY well protected. So we had a loud conversation, then settled in the watch the Sopranos (it was my first time ever). Excellent time. Monday, October 14, 8:30 a.m.: Mom and Dad packed up my stuff, with a little help from me. We talked, had some quality time together, then they drove me to the station. It was nice to be home. 0 scrawls at the end of this hallThe look: The feel: The taste: ________________________ |
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