A couple months ago I posted pictures of our old busted kitchen, and the interim state in which it existed for a while during renovations:

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Finally, a few weeks ago, it was done. Well, more or less. We’re still waiting for the backsplash, but we finally have a functional (and beautiful) kitchen!

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More storage, more counter space, new appliances, better design. I love it so much.

To celebrate having a new kitchen we decided to actually put it to use, and signed up for GoodFood. We’ve long contemplated a service like this (where they drop off pre-measured, pre-prepped ingredients and simple instructions) since we have neither the time nor the energy to come up with ideas and recipes. Even shopping for groceries is a stretch, so we end up eating out constantly. From both a health and financial standpoint, this made a ton of sense. I admit to being nervous about the quality of the food though.

However, we prepped our first meals this past week, and I have to say: they were amazing. Like, all three were delicious, and they took 20-25 minutes to prep. So far, a week in, this seems like one of our best ideas ever. Bonus: each meal gave me an excuse to open good bottles of wine from the collection, so:

[Missing: the lovely Domaine Louis Moreau 2016 Chablis we had with our fish.]

Bedford Basin

50th & 12

We arrived back in Toronto last night, ending an awfully busy 5-6 weeks of travel. The last ten days have been pretty intense family time, spread across a few locales.

Last weekend my mom was in town, in the middle of a trip to visit her sister in Guelph, so a bunch of family and a few friends drove into town for dinner before they went to see Come From Away. We all met at Locale Mercatto for an early dinner and had a good old chat, not to mention some good food and nice volcanic wine. Apparently we were also meant to go to the play but we got our wires crossed; in any case I had a work issue in progress, and we had packing to do.

The next day we flew to Halifax, had a quick stop in Bedford, then drove to the Annapolis Valley and met Lindsay’s mom and brothers at the same cottage as last year — but for two nights this time. We played games outside and had a big grilled steak dinner the first night, but spent the second day huddled inside around a fire for warmth on what turned out to be a cold, rainy day. It was still completely relaxing though, and the rain broke long enough for some grilled sausages after our games were complete.

Tuesday morning was much nicer so we squeezed in a last game of washer toss before departing. We stopped at Lightfoot & Wolfville on the way back, having just missed their grand opening last year. We bought a few bottles to bring back, and ate (extremely delicious) pizza and garlic fingers outside. Then it was back to Bedford.

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We spent the Tuesday and Wednesday nights at Lindsay’s dad’s place, zipping downtown for a quick dinner Wednesday at Your Father’s Moustache, and on Thursday attending her youngest brother’s graduation. After a big feed of Chinese takeout that night back at their mom’s, we played washer toss ’til it got dark and Yahtzee (seriously) into the wee hours and then crashed.

We took it easy Friday, eventually exiting Bedford and driving to my parents farm. We arrived late that night, just late enough to crash hard in the nice cool basement. The next day we slept in a bit before getting up and getting to work — it was the day of my parents’ 50th anniversary party, and there was an open house from 1-4. A friend of mom’s (the same one who accompanied her to the play the week before) catered, and we were all put to work slicing and setting and placing and cleaning. Nearly a hundred people wandered through the house on a stiflingly hot day, all to congratulate my parents on a pretty remarkable accomplishment.

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We did manage to squeeze in a tiny bit of relaxation time at the farm as well, from playing many games of crib, to perpetually scratching the dogs, to lying in a hammock.

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Everyone left Sunday morning after things had died down. We got to the airport and had a glass of wine at Vino Volo, which might have been ill-advised since Porter boarded their flight almost instantly, resulting in us actually getting paged as we walked down the terminal. We worked on the flight back, arriving to a moist blanket of heat draped over Toronto, and have scarcely left the loft since.

It was a fun trip, if not terribly relaxing. Frankly, we’re pretty excited to not have plans to fly or drive anywhere the next few weekends.

 

 

 

Pugwash

Another weekend, another quick trip. This time we were in Nova Scotia for a wedding, a rather short-notice one for a friend of Lindsay’s. We left Friday, getting a bunch of work done on the plane, and arrived quite late. We were staying in the Alt Hotel attached to the Halifax airport, which doesn’t really have a restaurant, so rather than resort to airport food court food, we stopped at the Vino Volo wine bar as soon as we stepped off the plane. (But, uh, we still got some food court food.)

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The next day we woke up early, drove into Halifax to pick up a friend of the bride who turned out to be charming, funny, and an all-around delightful car guest. We gathered her at Java Blend, so I had some (very) decent coffee, and we hit the road. We drove to Pugwash, after a stop in Truro, and met other friends at our cute li’l bed & breakfast, Inn The Elms. We walked next door for a pizza anda football-sized wrap and enjoyed the beautiful weather. That was short-lived.

The wedding ceremony, held at a family cottage, was lovely. We met some great people and toasted the new couple and got sunburned and heard speeches and pitched tents and walked on the beach and enjoyed the sunset and scratched dogs and huddled around bonfires and stuffed chicken nuggets in our mouths in the wee hours. There was even a random Japanese exchange student party crasher. We walked home to our B&B and I ditched my solo cup full of red wine just before the po-po drove by.

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The next day we dragged our burnt bodies from our beds and had a killer breakfast at the B&B before popping back round to visit the new couple and their families and wish them well. Just after that brother #2 and his wife drove up to say hi and have a coffee with us at Chesnutt Cafe, right before he takes off to Egypt. We chose to take the long way back to the airport, enjoying the pretty drive through Tatamagouche (after a stop at Tatamagouche Brewing) and on down to Truro. We had lunch and a beer at the Nook and Cranny before driving back to the airport. We hit Vino Volo again to bookend the trip, and flew home, tired but glad we got to be part of such a beautiful weekend.

 

Lower Canada –> Upper Canada

After a lot of highway driving and a bunch of toiling around one-way Montreal streets and a very great deal of stair-climbing, we have extracted Lindsay from Montreal. Lindsay and her stuff, that is.

We managed to squeeze in a trip to the best (beer) dep in Montreal and a burger with her friend Naakita and some quality time with Roscoe. We also managed to squeeze our minivan rental into an AirBnB back alley parking spot before quitting the city deadly-early the next morning. Expert squeezing all around, really.

So: welcome to Toronto, Lindsay’s-clothes-and-desk-but-really-mostly-books. I’m sorry in advance for our new premier.

Penultimate Montreal

This week’s been so busy I forgot to talk about our trip to Montreal last weekend. We brought a bunch of Lindsay’s stuff back to Toronto, but mainly just tried to enjoy Montreal for the last time. For a while, anyway.

Our flight was supposed to leave Friday night but got delayed; we ended up just changing it to early Saturday morning. We flew in, dropped our stuff at the apartment, hung out with Sara and Roscoe for a bit, and then went downtown for lunch at Cafe Parvis. We shared a cucumber salad and margherita pizza; I had a nice little soave and a Loire cab franc. All was good.

Just down the street was the MAC (the contemporary art museum) where we checked out the buzzy new Rafael Lozano-Hemmer exhibition, some of which was very cool, and some of which seemed more spectacle than significant. There were other lovely exhibitions too, like Alone Together and That’s How The Light Gets In and especially The Prophets. A worthwhile visit, to be sure.

For dinner last night we obviously had to hit up Maison Publique, where we turned in a top-notch final meal:

  • Radish, mozzarella, and basil salad
  • White asparagus
  • Tagliatelle in garlic & pesto
  • Fried halibut
    • 2014 Burrowing Owl Chardonnay
  • Spicy lamb tartare
  • Charlevoix Pork
    • 2015 Laughing Stock Portfolio Bordeaux blend
  • Pot de creme
  • Ice cream, with a celebratory/goodbye sparkler
    • Godfather cocktails, made with local amaretto

Quel send-off.

The next morning required a slow start, so we grabbed picnic ingredients from the nearby Metro and ate and hung out in Parc La Fontaine. We read Fran Lebovitz to each other, just like we did in our early days together, and watched ducks and dogs, and enjoyed the sun (but not too much, as we are so very pale).

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We had to spend the afternoon packing, but then ducked out to Brouhaha for a few beers with Sara. We heard very odd music, like this. Twice.

I also walked into the ladies washroom. Slick last few hours in Montreal, I must say.

Our flight back home was delayed too, but only by an hour or so. Still, that was more than enough to start us off exhausted for what would turn out to be a very busy week.

SNORE.

 

“Almost reckless, really.”

Zoinks, kids. WHAT a week in Dublin. We went because I had a work reason to be there, but — like Lisbon last year — we ended up having a whale of a time.

MONDAY

My bid for a business class upgrade worked perfectly, so we had a pretty posh flight to Dublin. I finished watching Darkest Hour and a few episodes of Game of Thrones and got a few hours of sleep.

TUESDAY

We arrived in Dublin and got a cab to the Spencer Hotel, after a brief ATM hiccup. We slept a few hours, and then decided to walk around Dublin. We checked out the #1-rated beer place in Dublin — Brew Dock — for some lunch and very tasty brews.

We enjoyed the shockingly warm weather and walked back through the CHQ (Customs House Quay) building before crossing the Liffey and strolled along that side. So many big corporations, startups, and cafes have moved into old dock buildings. I loved it. We got back to the hotel before a visit to Bear Market coffee and then Lindsay and I met a few colleagues for drinks at Ely wine bar.

I had a bit of work stuff to deal with, including a trip to the Guinness Storehouse and the Gravity Bar, which was at least a little bit cool.

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After that took a cab back across the Liffey where Lindsay had walked to meet me, and we had dinner at Bar Italia. It was in kind of a touristy part of town (Temple Bar, with which we’d become very familiar) but it felt pretty legit. We shared Burren cold-smoked organic Irish salmon marinated with orange and pink peppercorn, and a killer burrata. For mains I had chargrilled lamb rack in a crust of pistachio-nut on a bed of roasted rosemary potatoes; Lindsay had fresh Gran tortellini filled with wild mushrooms in a porcini and parmigiano DOP fonduta cream, finished with white truffle oil. We walked home, overly full and pretty sleepy, but enjoying the lovely views. So we had the traditional Dublin Italian meal under our belts, I guess? 😐

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WEDNESDAY

I spent the day at a work thing; Lindsay made her way around the city finding writing venues. That evening we took our first true foray into the Temple Bar neighbourhood for a drink at Fallon & Byrne, which is this really cool grocer with a cozy wine bar in the basement. We didn’t stay long — we had reservations elsewhere — but we loved our quick visit. We decided we’d come back.

We walked down the street a few metres for our reservation at Taste At Rustic. I don’t quite know how it ended up on my map — a Japanese fusion place wouldn’t normally be at the top of my list — but I’m glad it did. We had a SERIOUS meal:

  • Open maki dish of tuna & salmon (kyoto-style) with sushi rice, radish, turnip, fried egg, roasted nori & avocado
  • Broccoli tempura with kimchi mayonnaise, aged parmesan & roasted turnip stock
  • Tuna akami marinated in soya sauce with a touch of wasabi
  • Chicken karage with burnt lemon and miso mayonnaise
  • Grade 9 wagyu beef brushed with sweet miso and sesame powder served with rice chips
  • Glazed sticky pork brushed with japanese tare, fresh lime, japanese yuzu and kimchi
  • Mango and passion fruit mochi (japanese-style served with the aromas of their flesh and juice)
  • Green tea brûlée with pistachio, yogurt mousse, white chocolate and yuzu ice cream
  • A mixture of delicious wines and cocktails, including something called a Three Beauties, which I ordered twice

THURSDAY

Day two of the conference had me running around and introvert-exhausted, so I took off immediately after. We had plans that night and wanted to get a bite beforehand, but Dublin rush hour traffic worked against us — what should have taken 15 minutes took closer to 45, and we had to eat in a rush. We tucked in at Piglet wine bar, and they turned us around faaaast. We ate jumbo prawns and beef tartare and orecchiette w/ pork ragú, smoked paprika and parmesan, and took off for our play.

The play, at the Project Arts Centre, was called My Son My Son. I won’t try to write a proper summary, but seeing a play written by a woman featuring an all-female cast and dealing with so many feminist issues, on the eve of the Irish referendum to decide whether to repeal the ban on abortion, was pretty powerful. The result is now known, but the night before we saw many ‘YES’ or ‘REPEAL’ shirts in the audience, just as we’d seen around the city all week, and as of that night the outcome was far from certain.

After dinner we made our way back to Fallon & Byrne for a bit more wine, and some charcuterie, including some cheese called Durrus (made near Cork) which Lindsay declared to be her all-time favourite. We ended with a few glasses off the Coravin list, which had a little more cork in it than we would have liked. Afterward we had a final nip in the hotel bar. I chose a lovely 21 year old Redbreast Irish whiskey.

FRIDAY

With the conference now done, we had the days to ourselves. We used the day to do what we do best: eat, and visit museums.

First up was the EPIC, the Irish Emigration Museum, just down the street from us in the CHQ building. Pretty new, it seems, and with a great use of technology (HD projectors, motion/gesture detection, etc.), sound, sculpture, and other visuals, it helped weave a compelling story of Ireland as told by the people who’ve left it.

After that we hopped in a cab and traveled north to see the Dublin City Gallery / Hugh Lane. But first: lunch at Chapter One. It’s a Michelin-starred restaurant in the basement of a writer’s museum. We took a chance that they’d have a table for lunch Friday, and we lucked out. We took our seats and proceeded to have one of the best meals of our lives. I’ll describe the food below, but the service was just…impeccable. Perfectly attentive, utterly charming, and at times hilarious. In the throes of feeling oh-so-decadent, like “who are we kidding, eating like this?!” about this meal, one of the staff joked along with us, saying “It’s almost reckless, really!” and it was perfect. Maybe you had to be there? Anyway, the food:

  • Champagne:
    • Laurent Perrier Brut Champagne NV x2
  • Starters:
    • Lindsay: beef cheek, wild garlic, mushroom ravioli, parmesan (Givry 1er Cru ‘Champ Nalot’ Domaine Parize 2016)
    • Dan: jumbo green asparagus, guanciale, sheep’s cheese, pickled red dulse (Heinz W ‘Joseph’ Gruner Veltliner, Kamptal 2016)
  • Mains:
    • Lindsay: braised neck fillet of Spring lamb, herb potato and lamb kromeski, violet artichoke, caper flower (Bodegas Rodero, Carmelo Reserva, Ribera del Duero 2012)
    • Dan: salt marsh duck, tart of braeburn apple, smoked bacon, fennel pollen, pickled walnuts (Nuits St. Georges 1er Cru ‘Champs Perdrix’ Domaine Alain Michelot 2009)
  • Dessert:
    • Lindsay: flavours and textures of Irish milk and honey (Chateau Laville Sauternes, 2013)
    • Dan: warm 68% chocolate mousse with flavours of Guinness (Fonseca, Guimareans 1996)

I mean…

After that we stumbled outside and enjoyed the sunshine — did I mention it was brilliantly warm & sunny our whole week in Dublin, and didn’t really rain until the moment we left? — for a few minutes before heading into The Hugh Lane. We saw the main collection and the Amanda Dunsmore exhibition “Keeper” and the recreated Francis Bacon studio. After that we took a quick stroll the Garden of Remembrance, then cabbed back to our hotel. We grabbed our bags and switched to our home for the back third of our trip: Stauntons On The Green. Our room was a little disappointing — cute and all, but being on the ground floor the view was entirely blocked by the hoarding outside the hotel, so we couldn’t see St. Stephen’s Green at all. They promised to move us to another room the next night, and we passed out on our temporary bed.

Somehow, that night, we had another grand meal planned. Dax was billed as maybe the best non-Michelin-starred restaurant in Dublin. We were worried the near-miraculous lunch we’d been fed would ruin all meals to come, and certainly all to come THAT DAY, but Dax held up just fine, thank you very much. To wit, the tasting menu (as best I can remember it):

  • Salmon amuse bouche
  • Roast Dinish Island scallops, sweet pea sauce
  • Roast Atlantic cod fillet, Cévenne onion, heirloom carrots, fresh peas, lobster sauce
  • Salt cured foie gras, preserved and fresh spring vegetables, chardonnay vinegar
  • Homemade brioche
  • Fillet of Kildare beef, braised short-rib, celeriac, diane sauce
  • Whipped natural buttermilk, popcorn, pineapple, madagascar vanilla
  • Sheridan’s cheese selection with condiments (with Durrus!)

Luckily our walk home was a short one, because we could barely move. We got back to the hotel, saw the news that exit polls were predicting a landslide for the ‘Yes’ vote, and passed out.

SATURDAY

We decided to have breakfast at the hotel, both of us opting for the smoked salmon and scrambled eggs. That was the fuel for our walk around the Irish Museum of Modern Art, or IMMA. It was an outstanding visit in an old military hospital, introducing me to Brian O’Doherty, feeding Lindsay new relevant-to-school material, and treating us to a wonderful Lucian Freud exhibit. There was a gorgeous garden and, somewhat randomly, an informal singing to sick children. It was all a bit much, really.

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We had an absolutely smashing Uber driver from the IMMA to our lunch spot. He pulled up to the curb and yelled “Dan, how the hell are ya?” as we got in. Brilliant. We talked beer, tourist sites, Dublin and Irish history, viking timelines, and a host of other topics in our short time together, but he made us want to revisit Dublin. Like, RIGHT NOW. I would’ve gladly spent more time with him, but he dropped us at Against The Grain and we were thirsty.

Owned by the same people as Brew Dock, Against The Grain enticed us right away. Chill vibe, top beer, good food. I had a Wild Beer Trepache sour, a Boyne raspberry sour, a Thornbridge Cocoa Wonderland chocolate coffee porter, and a tshirt. All supoib.

After lunch we slid over to the afore-mentioned St. Stephen’s Green, and strolled through a bit of bucolic loveliness in the middle of Dublin. We lay in the grass and kissed and laughed at kids and dogs and it was pretty alright. After a spell we walked out of the park to our hotel, where we found our lovely new room with a view of the very park we’d just enjoyed.

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We napped an showered and changed and set out for Temple Bar. Mind you, this was our first foray into Temple Bar on a weekend, and…oof. What a busy mess. We had to dodge through there to visit Jam Art Factory, where we bought some prints, and to have a glass of wine at La Caverna before dinner. Unfortunately they were packed, so we went around the corner to Port House instead. We got a glass of wine and an espresso in us before an unbearable crowd formed and we beat a hasty retreat across the Liffey.

Our final dinner in Dublin was at a classic: The Winding Stair. It’s a cozy room atop a bookstore, with an open kitchen and a view (if you’re lucky) of the river and the Ha’penny Bridge. We ate and drank very well, to the point where we had to tell the server to take’er easy after our starters, lest our mains cause a wafer-thin-mint moment. We ate:

  • Starters:
    • Toons Bridge Dairy stracciatella with ruby and golden beets, capers, sorrel, and beetroot crisps
    • Burren smokery, Terry Butterly and Stephen Kavanagh’s smoked fish plate with our Dillisk bread, crème fraîche, pickled cucumbers and caper-berries
  • Mains:
    • Lindsay: Niall Sabongi grey mullet with Connemara clams, Gubbeen chorizo, asparagus and wild garlic champ
    • Dan: Skeaghanore cider-braised duck leg with grilled baby gem, crispy bacon, pickled walnut, apple, smoked duck fat roasties and cider gravy
  • Dessert:
    • Chateau Partarrieu Sauternes

We enjoyed the whole meal with an outstanding bottle of Savigny-lès-Beaune 1er ‘Aux Vergelesses’ Simon Bize 2011 Chardonnay. Later I realized that I recognized the name — we had a bottle of their Pinot last fall in Paris, at Fish La Boissonerie. For dessert we just ordered glasses of Sauternes, but our server (pressed into bartending duty at the end of the night) didn’t understand a typcial Sauternes pour and ended up pouring us a normal 5oz glass. So we got right lit up, we did.

SUNDAY

Not much left to do on our final morning but eat some breakfast, so we made it a good one, walking a few minutes to Meet Me In The Morning. We weren’t sure what to expect, but it turned out to be one of the most delicious breakfasts EVER.

I had the hash (McNally potato and beet, a poached egg, beet sour cream, greens and Toonsbridge halloumi with Gubbeen chorizo) while Lindsay had the eggs & greens (McNally kales, garlic yoghurt, paprika oil, curly parsley, two poached eggs, rustic loaf, and halloumi). After finishing we were patient (not really) and waited for the homemade doughnuts to come out, one rhubarb cheesecake and the other vanilla creme. Oh, and some dude came in carrying the cutest puppy either of us had ever seen and we all (us, the server, the other patrons) melted. Puppies and doughnuts. Jaysus. What a send off, Dublin.

After a hasty re-pack back in the room we checked out. The rain started just as we left, which left me convinced that the Irish don’t really have bad weather, they just tell us they do to keep us away. Our Uber driver, Sean, was an utter treat. He dropped us at DUB, we checked in, we hung out in the lounge, we debated buying the last piece of Durrus cheese in the Dublin airport, and we boarded to come home. The flight was easy-peasy; arriving at Terminal 3 was a goddamn gong-show. But we made it.

AFTERWORD

We need to go back to Dublin, and to see the rest of Ireland. That is all.

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.

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.

Temporary displacement

We’re having renos done on the loft right now. The bathroom already looks great, but the big change is the kitchen, which started Thursday. Everything’s been ripped out. Custom kitchen’s coming in next week, along with all-new appliances. The ones that were here when I bought are ugly and half-busted, and they gotta go. Not to mention the counter. Ugh.

Before:

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Midway:

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“After” pictures to come, I guess. Pray for us.

Meanwhile, we had to get out of the place during the worst of it, so we checked into the Broadview Hotel for a couple of nights. It’s nice, but the rooms are small. And expensive. And (in some cases) overlooking an alley. But also a dog park, so there’s that. I enjoyed the room, the turntable, and the view Friday while I waited for Lindsay to get home after work.

When she got home we were looking for someplace really tasty, but also really laid back. Eastbound was rammed, but we played a hunch and checked out The White Lily Diner, where we’d only ever eaten brunch. After a short wait for a table we sat ourselves down, took advantage of half-price-wine-on-Friday (Closson Chase Chardonnay, as it turns out) and ordered SO much food. Beet salad to start, then a hot turkey sandwich for Lindsay and the special for me, which was basically a giant bone-in piece of pork belly. And enough slaw to seed a lawn. Christ.

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We somehow split a vanilla pudding covered in chocolate sauce and crumbled peanut butter cookie (!) for dessert, and then dragged our asses home where we promptly fell asleep watching The Office. Wild Friday nights r us.

After getting up and doing work this morning we dashed downstairs for breakfast in their cafe, getting steak + eggs (Linds) and buckwheat pancakes covered in peanut butter mousse (me) plus fancy juices. After checking out we walked home to check out the damage — not bad, but not a place we’d be able to effectively work, so we buggered off to Boxcar Social, and then Chez Nous, for coffee –> beer –> wine –> snacks.

I was going to say that we’d need to stop eating like this, but as long as our kitchen is strictly theoretical, I guess there’s a risk we keep this up. OH WELL.

The roar of the Forth road bridge

Not three months ago we saw Frightened Rabbit play at the Mod Club, a tour to mark the tenth anniversary of their breakout album The Midnight Organ Fight. Lindsay had never seen them, and I hadn’t seen them in some nine years, since they toured the album originally. Despite a great show the obnoxious crowd prompted us to bugger off a bit early. I regret that now.

A few days ago, lead singer Scott Hutchinson (who’d struggled publicly with depression) went missing. His bandmates (and brother) asked for help finding him, but today a body found in the Firth of Forth was confirmed to be that of Hutchinson.

Since hearing the news I haven’t been able to shake loose from my head the lyrics of the penultimate song from Midnight Organ Fight, “Floating In The Forth”.

And I picture this corpse
On the M8 hearse
And I half run away to sleep
On a rolled up coat
Against the window
With the strobe of the sun
And the life I’ve led
Am I ready to leap
Is there peace beneath
The roar of the Forth road bridge?
On the Northern side
There’s a Fife of mine
And a boat in the port for me,

And fully clothed, I float away
Down the Forth, into the sea
I’ll steer myself
Through drunken waves
These manic gulls
Scream it’s okay
Take your life
Give it a shake
Gather up
All your loose change
I think I’ll save suicide for another year.

I’m angry at the depression that took him. I’m sad that I’ll never see him perform again. I’m worried that the tour on which he sang this song each night resurrected old thoughts in his head. I’m gutted that no one could really do anything to help, even those who loved him. I wish this disease weren’t so insidious and invisible, famous or not.

Rest easy, Scott. It’s okay.

It’s okay.

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