new ways

When you come back from a trip, it feels not unlike the beginning of a new year: you have this urge to rewrite in some small manner the way you go about your day. Throw in some new stuff, discard antiquated strategies that haven't worked for years. Well, in my case -- for weeks.

I no longer want to start the day with a garden review and cleanup. Sure, I tidied it up a little today because there were obvious sore spots that needed my attention. But then I let it go. I'm finally beginning to look at it in a new light -- an autumnal light. Appreciate pockets of bloom, often coming in from the pots...

Smile at a sudden burst of phlox color in one corner or another...

Take in the weirdly off schedule, but very pretty hollyhock...

And then I move on to feed the animals.

Breakfast -- a much simpler meal of defrosted pound cake and leftover berries.

I do need to water the porch pots, but then, despite the brilliant day -- full of sunshine yet not too hot (that scorching heat will arrive tomorrow and stay with us through early next week), with diminished mosquito activity -- in other words, despite the nearly ideal conditions for outdoor work, I shrug and put it off for another day. Instead, Ed and I go out for one of our combination bike/hike outings. Just locally. To smell the prairie, because in early fall, you really appreciate the scent of a drying flora.

(such a blue sky!!)

In the afternoon, Ed picks tomatoes (lots of cherries!)...

... and I return to a more dutiful set of tasks. You cant really change all your routines. Habits are stronger than our impulse to shake things up. And so I water the pots. Mow the paths. And in the late afternoon, Ed and I go to our local farmers market, bringing our contribution of rhubarb for the bakers and eggs for Farmer John.

And now here comes the evening: finally, our dinner out, at Sardine. It is totally perfect.

We ate on the early side and come back just before the nearly full moon ascends to shine on the farmette lands. 

May it shine brightly on you tonight as well.

With love...

leaving Quebec City

When you are still part of the labor force, long vacations can be a godsend. Indeed, some would argue you cannot disengage from your work during a short getaway. It takes a few days just to groove into a new rhythm. Another few to stop thinking about the projects you left behind. The French know this. The scoff at the American vacation which is, by their metrics, too short, too intense and too low on good food. It's not a vacation if it's not at least two weeks long.

I used to subscribe to this as well. When the kids were grown and I was once again alone, I took the longest vacation of my life. It went on forever, covered many weeks and many countries and it put me in credit card debt.

Since then, I've completely flipped on this. I have cut back so much that even Ed says my travel vacations are too short. All that trouble for just eight days? -- he'll ask. It's nine! -- I'll protest, thinking that nine is a lot, perhaps too much, next time I'll make it seven.

It's simple really: I dont need to be away. But I do need to get away. It is unfortunate that I live in a country where distances are vast and public ground transportation is poor, because it puts me in flight far too often for it to be environmentally sound. Nor do I especially love airports and bumpy flights. But I will find ways to accept that price for the chance to put myself elsewhere, as often as my conscience and my wallet can afford it. Not for long though. I love Ed, I love my life back home, I dont want to be away from it for too long.

This Quebec trip though, is unusually short. I'm returning home today, so I will have been gone for all of three nights and four days. It's short in part because the young family's getaway is also short and I am here for our time together. For them, travel is an adventure, but it's can't be relaxing. Young parents know this: going away with three young kids, where one of them rarely likes to sit still, is challenging. I can imagine that after a handful of days you begin to feel nostalgic for your home where you can actually get through a meal without working hard to keep the little guy quiet. Yes, it's all worth it and the memories are grand, but don't for a minute think that it is easy.

So, it's a short vacation for them and an even shorter trip for me and still, it is beautiful and the memories will be intensely exquisite. 

The morning is cloudy. There will be rain, there will be storms they say. No matter. We will navigate the city with umbrellas!

But first, breakfast. (I bring down my prized blueberries. Is this even allowed? Better not ask. I add them to the hotel's strawberries  and raspberries and have myself a delicious yogurt with Canadian berries supreme! And croissants.)

Afterwards, I take a stroll around the old town. I'm not ambitious today. 

And just before noon we meet up for lunch (definitely lunch!) at Les Trois Garcons, a bistro (in the best sense of that word) up the hill.

(here they come!)

(In our case, it's 2 garcons and 1 fille)

(On the move! must be time to go...)

They turn toward a museum. One about chocolate? Or about comic books? I do not know the ultimate decision. Me, I leave the upper town and head toward the hotel.

At two, I catch a cab to the airport. The driver is chatty and curious. Where are you from, where did you learn French, the usual. Importantly, he asked if I liked Quebec. I would have lied to be polite except that I didn't have to. He beamed: we are three things -- clean, safe, and friendly!

Yes they are.

I'm surprised that there are no weather delays. The flight takes off on time and by evening I'm in Chicago. 

International arrivals at O'Hare right now tests your travel patience. It's worse than arrivals/departures in Paris and that's saying a lot!  The line to clear immigration snakes through low, stuffy corridors and it snakes through hallways and then more corridors and you feel so embarrassed that this is the welcome all visitors receive when they land here. I know the airport is undergoing construction and there are posted promises of better days ahead, but from the looks of it, that may not come in the immediate timeline. I was happy to have my trusty KN95 mask but I do think that we are not doing ourselves any favors by packing people in like this from all corners of the world. If they weren't sick before arrival, they will be after they're done with this line. I asked one of the guards if this was unusual or an everyday thing. He and his pal answered in unison: it's every day. One hour to clear passport control? Really? 

A bit of a layover there, and so I treated myself to a bubbly something or other at the American Airline terminal. It was lovely.

On-time departure for Madison, and by 10:30 in the evening, I am home, under the light of a full Blue Moon. Hi Ed, hi farm animals! I am home.

Quebec!

You cannot expect great weather every day of your vacation. You just can't. All you can hope for is for some days to be extra fine and we have had those. Today and the next day, on the other hand, are slated to be wet. But not all the time! For example, I wake up on this morning to a very pretty sunrise.

Again, there is no morning rush and for this I am grateful. The kids are on a late schedule and they sleep deeply, well into the next morning. The adults, I am sure, appreciate the lackadaisical beginning to each day. So, I'm on my own with my regular ol' get up at a fairly early hour, with my moments of sifting and sorting in my head the details of the last month, with stepping into that strong shower for a real spa moment!  [You would not believe how weak the water flow is at the farmhouse! We are used to it and Ed reminds me that we save a ton of water that way. When I travel, I love the sheer luxury of something that feels more like a massage than a regular old shower.]

Breakfast. I'm more sensible this morning.

A pastry or two, their island strawberries, yogurt. As I pull away bits of a cinnamon roll, I look around the dining room. Early Fall is the time of senior travel. With good reason: the weather is usually optimal, the venues are less crowded. It's quiet, as the more boisterous crowd is back in school, at work. I take the time to imagine each person's details: what are their handicaps as they explore the world? Hearing aids, stiff joints, slow movements are common. But what else? And what does this particular trip mean to them? Is it a first to Quebec? Are they reliving a beautiful moment from their past? Do they have kids and grandkids back home? 

I think when you are older, despite the physical limitations you now face (new knees on steep steps: ugh!), you are happier and more appreciative of all that you see, all that you smell, taste, experience. You know what you like, you move slowly, you take in every wonderful detail. And the comforts these days! The technology, the simplicity of using a card for everything (I did not exchange a single dollar for this trip)! Travel may be harder at some level, but it's easier at so many others.

And then I go for a little stroll, before it gets too crowded out there. I walk the whole length of  the Rue de Petit Champlain. The Architectural Digest puts it on its list of the 53 most beautiful streets in the world. You can argue about this if you wish, but to me, it's jut a really lovely corner of the city. So I linger. And do very trivial shopping.

And then I turn in the opposite direction, to meet up with everyone for brunch-lunch. For some reason google has me take the back alley. An interesting perspective on the city...

(out on the street again, going uphill)

(here they come!)

We go to Chez Temporal, which has to be a real crowd pleaser as it has it all -- eggs, sandwiches, croissants, waffles. We pick our favs and wait for the food to arrive.

Sandpiper gets a little antsy here. I take him out for a walk. Sparrow joins us.

(aren't you supposed to sit on a bench?)

(Okay, the food is surely here!)

And now it's time for a little more of tourism: we head toward the Citadel and the Plains of Abraham. You have to have a little bit of Quebec history under your belt to appreciate the significance of this place: it's where the French tried to hold onto their settlements, fending off the British successfully, until they couldn't anymore, thus sealing the fate of this territory forever. Well, until it all falls apart as we fight each other to death in the centuries ahead of us.

On the way to the Citadel we pass a small playground. The kids are thrilled!

(the boys choose this time to stay dry)

(Approaching the Citadel)

(only Sparrow walks over to the guard without hesitation; the others are put off by the gun...)

We opt not to do the tour (that is required for visiting the Citadel). A two year old is going to hate the constraints of a group trudge and he is not going to listen quietly to a history lesson. Instead, we turn away from the Citadel and walk over to the Parliament Building.

(Quebec is rich in water fountains, which makes these kids very happy...)

This Parliament proves to be a wonderful place for a visit. Few people go there. It's free. It's beautiful. You can pace yourself and visit the chambers independently. There are places to sit. Winners all!

(waiting for an elevator with a mirrored door...)

By mid-afternoon, the young family heads back down to their place to try to nap their energetic Sandpiper. He has a longer evening before him and he'll do better if he's at least a little rested. I head go to my hotel. It's raining lightly now -- the system of clouds and moisture has finally arrived. It'll stay with us for a bit, but that's okay. The bulk of our sightseeing is behind us. We can deal with wet clouds!

And in the evening we meet up for a Quebecois meal at La Buche. Think: deer with bacon dressing. Well, okay, there are plenty of more conventional Quebecois dishes. I opt for the fish, for example. The kids are happier with grilled cheese sandwiches. 

On the walk to our respective homes, we stop at a small grocery store. Tiny as it is, it nonetheless has boxes of Quebec wild blueberries. A must for me! 

And we stop, too, by the Champlain monument, where a street artist is putting on a show for a rather large audience. The kids find seats, enthralled by it all -- the acrobatics, the lateness of the day, the communal nature of the event.

There's no doubt about it: vacation evenings, travel evenings are special. They stay with you for a long long time. And you never even notice when the rain drops come back to moisten your face just a little. It's all part of the uniqueness of being being with your family, far away from home, sharing with them, with others too, this moment of a splendid summer adventure. 

Goodnight Quebec! You've been stunning and wonderful. Tomorrow, I'm returning home.

with love...

Quebec!

One thing that I love about Quebec City is that it doesn't overwhelm you (except with its charm). Go ahead and guess its population! Give up? Just a tad over half a million. Bringing that home -- it's twice the size of Madison and exactly the size of Milwaukee. Long time ago, when I was still undecided where to make my home, I wildly considered living in Quebec. More than any other non-European city, it reminds me of... Europe. It's full of history -- a mix of indigenous people's first habitations, through French exploration and settlement, British architectural expansion, and a return to a French quest fro self-determination. Yet it's modest too. Unpretentious. And it's embedded in its landscape. You cannot think of this place without feeling awed by the great river that runs through it, or the forested mountains just to the north and west. You're never far from nature.

(sunrise over the St. Lawrence)

It's going to be a beautiful day here in Quebec Province of Canada.

(when I get up, the sun is shining brightly high up over the river)

I have a very leisurely morning. The young family is catching up on sleep. I'm up earlier. Ready for a hotel breakfast.

(...which is too big, but hey -- whether you eat a croissant, or poached eggs with smoked salmon and a heaping bowl of berries, you're going to pay the same price...)

And then I take a stroll. At this early hour (just after 9), the town feels sleepy still. (I always get the impression that tourists hate mornings). I walk up, all the way up.

It's this unique topography, where the old port is below and the citadel is high up above it all, that gave Quebec City its strategic advantage when it was first settled. 

In modern times, on the clifftops, a boardwalk stretches from the Chateau Frontenac to the Citadel. I walk along its beautiful expanse...

And take in the river views.

There are countless steps going up and of course then countless steps going down. Steps are not easy for me. The muscles around my new knee are not yet conditioned to do the job, so it's always a bit of an effort to navigate inclines, but I surely have the energy for it!

By 11, I head down to meet the young family for a brunch. Or lunch. Call it a midday meal! (At the Buffet de l'Anitquaire.)

(here they come...)

And now for some Quebec tourism: to the port!

(stunning public spaces...)

(happiness is...)

And to the Museum of Civilization, where we check out the energy exhibit, the indigenous settlements displays, and a whole exposition on the life of Quebec's past premier Rene Levesque (he was the first to push for Quebec's independence).

Perhaps the finest moment for the younger kids came when they were set free in the children's play area downstairs. It's magnificent and gives them the freedom to explore without adult supervision. Sandpiper liked everything, including cabinets that he could for once open without restraint.

The museum is just across the street from my hotel and Sparrow really wanted to see my room! 

(on my lovely terrace)

From there we walk up, up, up the city streets. And down the steps. Phew! Surely it's time for an ice cream treat.

It's when we got in line to take the funicular back up the steep hill that Sparrow noticed he was missing his favorite stuffy. The one he cannot live without. The one that accompanies him everywhere. 

The search is on! 

From the boardwalk...

... down again, with Snowdrop returning with me to the hotel to look there, and the dad checking out the ice cream store and the museum, and the mom waiting with the boys for the big denouement: will the little koala, without which life cannot go on, be found??

Lucky break! He is found. In the museum. Tragedy averted. Much relief for everyone!

At this point Snowdrop and her dad rejoin with the rest up the hill, but I opt for a break. I've done my climbing and descending (equally hard!) for the day. I pause for an hour in my room, fortified by a gift from the hotel of the most perfect afternoon treats!

And then I am again at the young family's place, getting ready for my second night with the awesome threesome.

(I challenge Sparrow to a checker game. He's good but very king oriented. Still, with my best efforts to effectuate this, I manage to get us to a draw!)

I search online, trying to find take-out that is something other than pizza but fail miserably. Faced with the possibility of not finding any deliveries within the hour, I default to pizza. It's fine and indeed, my mushroom pie is quite exquisite, but Sandpiper, napless once again, turns up his nose at any piece of any slice.

Does it matter? Not at all. Milk is nutritious! Sandpiper never says no to milk. With that, he crashes, happily falling asleep immediately after. The big two choose a movie once again and once again they are captivated by the big screen as mom and dad return.

I walk back on a beautiful late summer evening. People are out and about and it feels good to feel safe even late(-ish) at night in a city that is kind to its visitors, even those who forget that it's not l'addition s'il vous plait (the check please), but la facture s'il vous plait (the bill please) and those who look puzzled when a cafe au lait (milky coffee) is brought for them in a bowl instead of a cup, to say nothing of those who think diner is dinner and not lunch and who, when handed a menu for dejeuner wonder why it's full of egg dishes because isn't dejeuner lunch? (No, it's breakfast here.)

A splendid day in Quebec City. Truly splendid!