Once upon a time in the West (of Ottawa, but still in Ontario, (part two,

[see part one here]

Tuesday, July 25, 2023: Slept terribly, despite the better arrangements. The Oakville hotel was fine enough, the kids sharing a bed, but somehow that was a better sleep. Here they have bunk beds with a half-wall between us, and it wasn’t as great. Stupid away-from-home.

Today was attempting to enjoy all the amenities the Great Wolf Lodge offered, especially given how much the damn thing costs. I was tempted to jump across the border and sell a kidney, which prompted my eldest daughter, Kate, to provide me how much I’d get for such a thing (somehow this is information she already knows off the top of her head; “it’s not my fault the internet is gross,” she responded). Again, we literally haven't taken the children to anything, given Covid, so it makes sense, I suppose, that this trip is attempting to make up for the past few years. There was wave pool and arcade and bowling and yoga and an elaborate self-directed wizard-game of some sort and a bunch of other excitements. I used the opportunity to read The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist (2020) by Adrian Tomine. It is really good. The children wore themselves out on their quests, we sent each other texts when they ran by (sitting in different corners of the hotel) and I managed some reading.

Sad to hear that a cousin on my birth mother’s side, Jaime, died earlier this week. She was one of the first on my birth mother’s side to reach out upon “discovery” a couple of years back, and responded with an enthusiasm I appreciated. We hadn’t a chance yet to meet, which was frustrating. Through emails, I discovered another cousin, Micah, is apparently here with his family, but not sure if he’ll reach out and attempt to connect. I told his parents, including my Uncle Dale, my birth mother’s brother, that he’s welcome to text me if he’s able and/or interested. As of yet, I have yet to see him (and I’ve been looking).

My pal b stephen harding and his lovely wife Gemma were at the falls yesterday, which was amusing to be that close in a different part of the province. I think we considered the possibility of meeting up, but it wouldn’t have been easy. We’ll catch up on stories once we’re back home.

The entire afternoon, spent in the waterpark area. So much waterpark area. Normally I hate water, but bringing the bags in from the car across two loads yesterday was so bloody hot it was enough to prompt me into the water. Once we’re back home, I’m sure everything will return to normal, and I’ll be avoiding it again like an old, irritable cat. The young ladies don’t know how lucky they have it right now (or maybe they do).

Both nights we’ve been here, seeing a local skunk (I doubt he commutes in) wander by our back door. After the children asleep, sitting just outside the back door. Last night, he startled us, so we came back in. Tonight, he just wandered by.

Wednesday, July 26, 2023: It seems odd to be waking most mornings before the young ladies. I mean, I’m not exactly waking any earlier than normal, but they’re staying up much later, I suppose. To be up before Aoife seems baffling to me. Rose can easily sleep longer if we let her, at least at home. She’s often the last of us to rise. We attended to the last elements of our big ridiculous Big Wolf Lodge adventures (another stretch of the wave pool, at Aoife's insistence) before heading off to catch a quick view of the falls themselves, which was only about a five minute drive down the road. We parked, walked by the carnival row of downtown Niagara Falls strip (ice cream en route, of course, so it would be long gone by the time we returned to the car) and saw the magnificence of the falls. The children were impressed, at least. And then we returned to the car and drove north, easily passing twenty or so cemeteries. Are we driving through cemetery country?

When in Owen Sound, naturally, one begins to think about the sound poetry group Owen Sound, yes? I mean, everyone else does that as well, right?

Rained heavily, but luckily it began well after we landed here. Amy Dennis' house, backed up against the banks of the Sydenham. Lovely. There were swans, also, but swimming separately, as Amy said they must not be getting along at the moment.

A cat in the window across from Amy's house. I don't like the way it keeps looking at me.

Thursday, July 27, 2023: Woke, in Owen Sound. We’re spending two nights with the delightful Amy Dennis, a poet that Christine met during her Toronto days, pre-Ottawa. She even launched her first book this past spring as part of VERSeFest in Ottawa, which was pretty exciting. A slow moving day, simply hanging out with her. Very nice to catch up.

So much Owen Sound! Did you know that painter Tom Thomson is buried here? I even saw a tree en route this way that looked completely like one of his. A lovely small church in the woods, with surrounding cemetery. The church itself long closed, but the building and space restored, which was good to see. One doesn't wish these historic sites to crumble. The children wandered the cemetery looking at names and dates, and attempting to figure out how old everything is. I think the stretch of that kind of time is a bit past them, but hard to tell.

We spent time at a beach, listening to the silence of the waves. The children picked at the stones, seeking fossils. They wandered the beach. We saw a kayaker and a paddle-boarder leave from the cove. All the waves on the shore whispered shush. The children left the shore with a handful of fossils. A bag, even.