Friday, February 17, 2006
Quebec
Never say to me “we should go to Quebec someday.”
The word someday does not exist in my vocabulary. I have no patience for it.
A friend (I’ll call him “Ed” – two letters, easy to type) said someday to me a month ago and learned that someday for me is right now.
I wonder whether impatience is a cultural thing: we, Poles, seize that which may disappear soon.
Or, whether I should take personal responsibility for plunging the minute a rope swings my way.
In spite of Madison snows and frosty temperatures, I am heading north right now with Ed, the now biting his tongue Ed, for, having uttered the word someday, he is keeping me company as I head north today. Tonight, if the skies clear and the planes land, we will be in Montreal, driving up even further north to Quebec City, where the ice statues lay buried in snow and the temperatures will not pass single digits.
Waiting now at the Detroit airport for our (delayed) flight out, Ed turns to me and says: You’re the maturest 52-year old kid I ever met.
Personally, I don’t know why anyone would wait until spring to head north.
The word someday does not exist in my vocabulary. I have no patience for it.
A friend (I’ll call him “Ed” – two letters, easy to type) said someday to me a month ago and learned that someday for me is right now.
I wonder whether impatience is a cultural thing: we, Poles, seize that which may disappear soon.
Or, whether I should take personal responsibility for plunging the minute a rope swings my way.
In spite of Madison snows and frosty temperatures, I am heading north right now with Ed, the now biting his tongue Ed, for, having uttered the word someday, he is keeping me company as I head north today. Tonight, if the skies clear and the planes land, we will be in Montreal, driving up even further north to Quebec City, where the ice statues lay buried in snow and the temperatures will not pass single digits.
Waiting now at the Detroit airport for our (delayed) flight out, Ed turns to me and says: You’re the maturest 52-year old kid I ever met.
Personally, I don’t know why anyone would wait until spring to head north.
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Every day is an adventure. And, you grasp it tightly!!
ReplyDeleteYour friend
Bert
Go Ed n' Nina! Two kids havin s'm adult fun. ;-)
ReplyDelete-PnL
You sure do get around. The world is your playground. Enjoy!
ReplyDeleteThe only time I've ever been to Quebec, I was a kid (high school French class trip.) I did get to go to Montreal as a grown-up, but that's hardly the same thing at all, as I was going for the express purpose of seeing the Bruins play the Canadiens (that's hockey). It was not an ideal trip, although fun was had.
ReplyDeleteI have no memory of Quebec at all, other than the ice sculptures and the bitter cold. Our bus driver got lost on the way up and on the way down, so mostly what I remember is spending hours and hours on that infernal bus!
Please take pictures of beautiful things and eat wonderful food and tell me about it, so I can have some idea of what Quebec is really like!
Everything in my life is a someday right now and I absolutely hate it. Someday I will never say someday again, till then I expect you will do the neversaying for me!
ReplyDeleteasia: someday you'll be liberated from its constraints. but don't wait too long.
ReplyDeletejoan: today I went up to a group of kids and asked (in French) where they were from. After giggling and telling me in awkward French bonjour and "Missouri!" they resumed their flirting and giggling. I thought of your school trip.
bert, PnL and Nancy: so much to see, so much to do, so much to eat!