A relatively fun weekend

We just got back from Dublin yesterday, which will be a whole other blog post. In the meantime here’s a quick recap of the whirlwind trip we took to Nova Scotia the weekend before.

We flew Air Canada instead of Porter, so from Pearson instead of Billy Bishop, so it was a scramble to get out of work on time and make our flight. We hopped into Moncton, jumped in our rather gigantic vehicle, and drove to the farm, stopping for a treat along the way. We basically just rolled into Andrew + Denise’s and crashed.

The next morning they filled us up with bacon + eggs before we wandered next door to mom + dad’s house. The royal wedding was on so I escaped and read, then started setting up for a gathering. The rest of the Dickinsons were coming that day to intern and remember my aunt Anne, who passed away a few months ago (and who was the inspiration for my travel bug) and also celebrate my dad’s birthday. We gave him a book about Bob Dylan and a card with Albert Einstein’s picture that said “Have a relatively happy birthday!” and he seemed pretty happy about that.

That afternoon we buried Anne’s ashes down the road in the local cemetery, then hosted family and friends back at mom + dad’s house. It quickly transitioned into a birthday celebration for my dad, featuring a cake that was far bigger than the one my mom ordered. Lucky for all of us.

That night, after the crowds died down, we went next door to celebrate one more thing: brother #2 a) finishing his MBA and b) moving with his family to Cairo. (!) We had a drink or two, including the treat we picked up the night before: a bottle of 2006 Dom Pérignon.

Congratulations @dadickin. #champagne #dom

A post shared by Dan Dickinson (@wireddrunkard) on

Tastes like a smoky bourbon-y tree. #beer #peibeer

A post shared by Dan Dickinson (@wireddrunkard) on

The next morning the entire clan stuffed themselves into cars and drove to Parrsboro for breakfast at The Sunshine Inn. I think we exceeded their kitchen capacity / timing as things came out all helter-skelter and one order got missed entirely, but we all got fed in the end. At one point someone local walked in and said “The Catholics are coming!” but no one (at least, no mob of overt Catholics?) arrived. Maybe we ate all the bread.

Late in the afternoon, to accommodate our schedule, brother #1 barbecued up a truly prodigious amount of meat. We scarfed a bunch down and then drove back to Moncton to do laundry, sleep, re-pack, and fly to Dublin.

 

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So: Congratulations Andrew.

Happy birthday dad.

And Anne: we miss you.

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