Earlier this week I flew east for work, but before that I tacked on a day or two to spend at the family farm to help celebrate my dad’s 82nd birthday. We had dinner in Amherst the night before, then a drink next door at brother #2’s, and then watched as the Maple Leafs folded like an old tent. Not much of a birthday present for my poor dad, but I was fine with it.

Monday morning four of us (Dad, myself, brother #1 and his progeny) drove just to the other side of Parrsboro to see Hidden Falls. They must be aptly named, because neither my dad nor I had ever been there. Anyway, it was <10 minutes from the road, and quite lovely.

Better still, the rain that had been coming down the whole drive there let up just as we began the hike to the falls, and started again shortly after we began driving home. The birthday gods were smiling on us, it seemed.

Back at the farm, Mom had made soup and sandwiches and a truly great marble/chocolate cake. That, plus a whole pile of crib, seemed to make the old fella happy. Brother #1 and I departed around the same time, he back home and I to Moncton. No new restaurants attempted this time, alas — I wasn’t there long, and the weather (both in Moncton and Toronto) has remained steadfastly un-spring-like.

Happy birthday, dad.