A royal wedding, and dreams if Italy

April 29, 2011 is a very exciting day! Not only is it the day of the royal wedding (didn't Kate look BEAUTIFUL?!), but today is also the day my parents leave for Italy. As I write this, they are probably flying high above eastern Quebec or the maritimes. I never thought it would be possible to feel such a strong vicarious excitement. I suppose it may have something to do with the fact that it has been so long since my last holiday, with none in the foreseeable future. Also, I can't help but smile to think of my own trip to Italy, five long years ago.

As for the wedding, I didn't end up getting up at 5 a.m. as I had planned. Alas, it was a workday and sleep won out. Happily, the wedding was still on when I got up at 7 - just in time to see Wills and Kate ride through London on the carriage.

A beautiful day indeed.

A couple of real gems

Here's my latest EMC column. (For the record, it was pointed out to me that my grandparents were not, in fact, married above Morrison's, although that is where they had their reception. They were married in at St. Mary's Cathedral. Details, details...)

EMC Editorial - It's hard to imagine anything that is at once so strong and so elegant as a diamond. Among other things, the stone is well known for representing the 60th wedding anniversary. I always thought such designations were a bit arbitrary and unnecessary. (Fun fact - did you know that the 85th wedding anniversary is represented by wine?) Lately, however, I find myself thinking quite a bit about the symbolic value of the diamond.

My maternal grandparents are celebrating 60 years of marriage on May 5. I must admit that it's a little hard for me as a 20-something-year-old to fully grasp just how long a time frame 60 years is. In fact, I believe that a month or so ago, I naively insinuated that my own five years of marriage was a bit of a big deal, needless to say, my grandparents' milestone kind of puts things in perspective.

Not a lot of people can say they've celebrated a 60th wedding anniversary. That's 60 years of not getting (too) sick of one another, 60 years of not falling (too much) in love with someone else, and 60 years of neither half of the couple succumbing to illness. If that's not something to celebrate, I don't know what is.

Grandma and Gramps met in the late 1940s at a local Catholic Youth Organization event. Some years later, they were married in the hall above what is now Morrison's restaurant on King Street.

Fast-forward a few more years, and Gramps and Grandma had six children, and were living in a big, cosy house on Napier Street. In the early 1960s, they purchased an acre of waterfront land on Howe Island for $4,000, which they reluctantly sold for much, much more than that two years ago.

We all lamented the loss of our beloved cottage, which over the decades became the most special of places to all members of the family. Yet my grandparents pointed out that even if they hadn't made a dime from selling the cottage, it was still the best investment they ever made for all the treasured memories it produced.

Shortly thereafter, my grandparents were forced to live apart for the first time in well over half a century, as Gramps' Parkinson's disease advanced to a point where it began to severely affect his mobility. His new residence, Providence Manor, is a mere 10-minute walk from Grandma's condo, yet it still seems odd to see them living so far apart.

All the same, Grandma rarely fails to make the trek each and every day to visit Gramps, and between the two of them they have managed to make that small little room at the long term care facility feel as much like home as possible.

My grandparents' steadfast ability to have fun together and make the most of every situation has always seemed to me one of the most precious qualities imaginable. Much like a diamond, their love is strikingly beautiful, and yet as unbreakable as they come.

Fifty-five years down the road, I hope I will be lucky enough to be able to say the same. The feeling, I can imagine, must be worth its weight in gold.

A good Friday

It seems everyone is out and about today, both downtown and here in the 'burbs. It's as if the sun has blinded us all to exactly how cold it actually is outside - a mere six degrees here in Kingston, certainly not patio weather despite the number of al fresco diners sitting out on Brock Street. The farmers market was also buzzing with activity, even though it's a Friday and a holiday. Bare-legged teenage girls in short skirts and sandals abounded, adding to the false impression that it is, in fact, a beautiful summer's day. My dear husband slipped away for a moment and bought me the bouquet of my favourite kind of flower pictured above. Daisies never fail to make me smile. Despite the enjoyable afternoon, I'm glad to be back indoors now, instead of outside trying to ignore the nippiness of the wind. It's April 22, for crying out loud.

While I decide where the blog's going...

...here's my latest column!

EMC Editorial - I'm the kind of person for whom most things seem either much better or much worse in my mind than they are in reality. I used to think this was a bad thing, but in recent years I've found that being mindful of such skewed perceptions allows me to deal with life's daily trials without making too big a fool of myself.

For example, I am utterly and completely in awe of the Kingston Derby Girls. Over the past few months I've found myself frequenting their website, imagining my own legs and feet inside those black and pink striped knee socks and colourful, retro roller skates.

I'm not exactly up on the rules of roller derby, but I can say that sliding around the Memorial Centre flinging and body-checking opponents out of the way to clear a path for the team looks like an absolute blast. The funky outfits are also hugely appealing, for where else in the city can you get away with pairing electric fishnets and frilly little-girl-in-a ballet-class-style tutu skirts? I even have my roller derby name all picked out and ready to go: I would be Hollie Go-fight-ly.

Yet I hesitated last week when the Derby Girls were holding registration for a spring training camp, at which "fresh meat" (aka rookie players) will be chosen. Five years ago, I would have been there with bells on. I probably would have run out and bought myself roller skates, kneepads and all the trimmings - perhaps even a bright orange tutu skirt.

The trouble is that I have never in my life put on a pair of roller skates, nor have I ever played a sport involving any more contact than basketball. As a result, I can say with some confidence that for now, roller derby participation is one of those things best left to my imagination.

I don't view this as a bad thing - quite the opposite, in fact. You see, if I were to go to the training camp and perform badly (a near certainty) the dream of becoming a derby girl would be lost to me forever because it would be tainted by the negative experience. Instead, it maintains the ability to keep me energized during my evening run and entertained in moments where I have some time to kill and am caught without a book or someone to talk to.

In my daydream, Hollie Go-fight-ly is a fast, tough player who isn't afraid to risk falling on her face every once in a while if it means beating the other team to the finish line, and who isn't at all timid about elbowing in the stomach any girl who makes the mistake of getting in her way. However, I fear that if Hollie and Hollie Go-fight-ly were ever forced to collaborate in a place not governed by fantasy, much awkwardness would ensue.

That doesn't mean, though, that there isn't a bit of her in me - certainly more than there was five years ago. She appears during my half marathon training, and helps me push through the wall to arrive at that wonderful, elusive runner's high.

She is also there when I need to defend myself or someone I love from various injustices. In my teens and early 20s, it's unlikely I ever would have had the nerve to boldly tell a person off, however in recent years I've surprised myself by doing so on several very gratifying occasions.

Maybe one day I and my derby girl alter ego will become similar enough that Hollie Go-fight-ly can at last make her debut appearance on the Memorial Centre track. Until that day, though, she exists largely in my mind, and is available for select appearances only. These things take time.

Upate

Just wanted to drop you all a line to say that I'm still here, and that I haven't forgotten about my blog! For the past two and a half years, this has been a place where I share with the internet world eclectic slices of my life - from photos to book and movie reviews to long-winded personal ramblings. Lately I've been feeling the need to give the blog a little more direction, and focus in on one particular theme.

The trouble is that I'm really not sure what I want that theme to be. On a personal level, I'd love to have a book blog. The trouble is that I'm so busy it usually takes me at least a couple weeks to finish a book, and I'd like to aim for around two posts a week. On the other hand, attempting a book blog might make for a productive challenge (i.e. more reading, less TV, etc).

I also adore the idea of a food blog. The problems with this option, though are that I can't cook to save my life, and baking twice weekly...well...that wouldn't be all that great for the figure. I'd end up with all these cookies, cakes and pies and no one to eat them other than Steve and myself. Yet, I can't help but think it might be fun to make healthy, vegan treats with spelt flour and flax eggs and the like. Again, might be a nice challenge.

The obvious choice for me is a movie blog, however once again I just don't have the time to be frequently going to the movies. This weekend I actually went to two, but that was definitely an exception. I could write about all the movies I watch over and over again at home, but that would just be pathetic.

Then there's always the option of a photography/design-oriented blog. Becoming engaged in the blogging world has given me a whole new appreciation for visual art, and has assisted me in becoming a better photographer both for this space and for my day job. A food blog would allow me to incorporate this aspect as well, but I also like the idea of a photo-journal type thing. However, that would rule out any heavy-duty writing, which is one of the main reasons I got into this business in the first place.

Of course, whatever I decide on is sure to also include the odd personal rambling. I don't think I want to devote an entire blog to this kind of thing, just because most of what I write or photograph is sure to be grounded in a personal experience anyway.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I would very much welcome any input from readers on what you would like to see. So, if you're so inclined, please feel free to shoot me off an email, leave a comment, or tell me in person...I'd love to hear from you.