Julian Regales Regina - Part 2

On the day we arrived in the Prairies, the temperature was a very pleasant 23C (73F). The next morning, it was -5C (23F) and snowing.
This is mid-May we are talking about. Although he only lived in Saskatchewan for 10 years, Julian always likes to state that if Amnesty International knew what the conditions were like, they would be fighting to get the people out. (Well, that and the fact that it is so flat that if your dog runs away, you can watch it go for 3 days).

Which quite naturally leads into the topic of Salsa dancing. Over the Winter, Zoe took a class called Salsa Tots – which essentially involves learning a number of dance routines set to quasi-Salsa music. She loved this class so much that we purchased the CD and just happened to take it along on our trip. Salsa is not a spectator sport and Zoe fully expects her parents to assume an active role. Now if you have ever seen Julian dance (Sara has seen him do this twice – once with a belly dancer and once with the male Dean of the leading Business School in Turkey – requests for any related videos should be addressed directly to her), you would understand that it is not a pretty sight – although Zoe thinks her Dad is kind of cool. Anyhow, one evening, fortified by couple of glasses of wine (a good Caremenere for the oeniphiles out there), the music came on for a father-daughter duet of the Flamenco Flamingo much to the delight of Grandma Elaine. While the dancing was obviously impeccable, quite fortunately there were no video recording devices in evidence. Let your imaginations run wild!

And speaking of wine…on the first night Grandpa John opened a bottle of wine and, in jest, passed the cork to Zoe. She studiously rolled the cork in her fingers to assess its relative dryness prior to deftly lifting it up to her nose to assess the aroma before nodding her approval. Everyone was impressed with the skillful delivery of her crafted appraisal. Clearly either our daughter is brilliant or her Dad has a major problem (my vote is for brilliance).

In spite of the cold weather outside, Zoe decided she still only needed to wear one sock

As strongly alluded to in the previous post, Grandma Elaine is absolutely thrilled with her little granddaughter and, within reason, likes to “show her off” to her friends and family. One of these occasions was at a pleasant luncheon with her two sisters, Susie and Carol, her niece, Shelly, and her good friend, Io. At this luncheon, rather than sitting in her chair, Zoe decided that it would be far more preferable to sit on Shelly’s lap and eat all of her pancakes, meat balls and bratwurst (the meat being a luxury that she does not receive very often at home). Shelly was a good sport in donating the majority of her lunch to her new relation. And if you wish to keep score of their exact relationship, Shelly is Zoe’s first cousin once removed (I did mention to Shelly afterwards that, although there are some cousins that one might want to remove, we would have to keep her around for a little while longer). One final item from the luncheon was that Io gave Zoe a stuffed lamb that she absolutely adores. In searching for a name for this lamb, we settled upon “Rosemary” – a shortened form of “Rosemary Pie”, as in her Lamb Rosemary Pie (Zoe’s Dad sometimes has a wicked sense of humour not truly appreciated by all).

Zoe with Shelly, her first cousin once removed

Zoe with Grandma Elaine and Great Aunts, Susie and Carol

Zoe’s Uncle Mark holds a special place in her life. It is not the fact that he owns an oil company that really impresses her, but because, more concretely, he owns and invests in numerous horses. Show jumping horses, that is. And Zoe likes horses! So much so, that every night on the trip when she was being put to bed, she would insist that if Mark ever came over with his horses, someone would make sure to wake her up. Consequently, out of necessity, one day we took a trip out to the farm where a couple of his horses are stabled. Zoe was able to see Mark jumping on one of his horses, but found that she was somewhat intimidated when placed up in the saddle (on the horse shown, it really is a long trip down to the ground for a little girl).

Zoe and Uncle Mark on Dino

Zoe was much more amused by the stupid pet tricks that Mark’s other horse would perform for treats. How does one discover that horses can be trained to do such things? One might conclude that it does not take a PhD in nuclear physics to get a horse to shake hands, but since Mark has one of those, perhaps it does.

Here is Mark shaking a hoof with his prize jumper Merengo All-in-all Zoe and Julian had a great time in Saskatchewan (except for the cold). This was Zoe’s first trip to visit with her paternal grandparents and they seemed absolutely thrilled to welcome her to their part of the world.

The Last SupperZoe initiating the round of cheers at the Last Supper. Maybe this indicates that Daddy’s influence is somewhat problematic, after all.

As we have alluded to many times before, it is always a delight to be able to travel with a calm, quiet child. Fortunately for us, Zoe travels very well, but we do have considerable compassion for those not quite so blessed. On our return flight, there was a sole businessman occupying the row of seats across the aisle from us. As boarding was wrapping up, you could tell he was pleased to have the whole row to himself, no doubt looking forward to a peaceful flight with extra room. Luck was not on his side. In front of him was a mother travelling with her one- and three-year-old sons. No sooner had this trio taken their seats, when the two boys unleashed a death-defying cacophony that was to continue throughout the entire flight. The seat behind the businessman was occupied by a couple travelling with their little dog. The dog, when placed under the seat – this would be directly underneath the businessman – began emanating an incredibly loud, melancholic, hound-of-the-Baskervilles howl. If you could have seen the priceless expression (“we haven’t even taken off yet”) on this poor businessman’s deer-in-the-headlights face as he glanced over at me, or more likely imagining what might yet be forthcoming from Zoe, you too would have exploded with laughter at his plight. Luckily I was able to maintain my decorum (while smiling on the inside, naturally) and simply acknowledged my empathy with his predicament. The poor fellow! And the poor mother!

Anyhow, our return flight was thankfully uneventful. As usual, Zoe concluded that it was essential for us to patrol up and down the aisle to acquaint ourselves with the very gracious cabin crew in both the front and rear of the airplane. Zoe did manage to adopt one of the flight attendants as a big sister, who, through inquiry determined that Zoe wished for a big sister together with a baby elephant – we may now need to make some adjustments to our plans for number two. In a moment of levity, the attendants in the back paged their counterparts in the front, but handed the phone to Zoe, who then proceeded to engage in a somewhat confused conversation (not sure how the various aviation authorities would view such hijinks).

As is becoming customary, Zoe fell asleep just as the plane landed. As we proceeded to the baggage claim, she kept repeating “See Mummy, see Chengis”. Fortunately, Sara was waiting there without Chengis for a happy reunion with the travellers.

Epilogue: After her week away, that first night home Zoe slept for more than 15 uninterrupted hours – a record for us.