Final day in Montreal. I am Vancouver-bound tonight!
This morning I woke up to this…
My mother used one orange and three tangerines for this single glass and it was delicious. I don’t understand how some breakfast places can get away with calling their orange juice “freshly squeezed” when the taste is so damn different. I can only assume “Freshly Squeezed” is a reference to a brand name.
Last night, mom was watching Murder She Wrote when a commercial came on for one of those assisted living facilities. It featured uplifting interviews with the presumed children of the elderly parents being put away. All seemed very pleased and couldn’t say enough nice things about the place. One woman happily chatted away while, beside her, her mothers sat silently staring off into space, possibly hatching her escape plan. As the ad cut to a montage of seniors “enjoying themselves” (ie. watching television, walking around, talking to each other – all things they no doubt couldn’t do on their own), my mother commented: “And then, when no one’s looking, gli schiaffi incominciano (literally: the slaps begin).” an obvious reference to the accounts of elderly abuse on the part of caregivers. Mom has made it mighty clear that, when the time comes she can’t take care of herself (And I can’t imagine such a time. She turns 80 next month!), she aint going into no “old folk’s home”. In her eyes, fobbing your elderly parents off on a nursing home is a North American thing. In Europe, where many men live with their parents well into their 30’s [More than half of Italian men live with their mums – The Local] and aging parents move in with their married kids, the workings of the family unit are very different.
Whenever we touch on this topic – at least once or twice every time I visit – the conversation inevitably turns to MY future and, specifically, my mother’s concern that I don’t have a senior fallback plan of my own (a.k.a. kids). I keep trying to reassure her that you blog readers are like children to me and that you’ll all be more than happy to bathe me, feed me, and tuck me in at night when the time comes – which, I’m thinking, may be some time this summer as I could use a good vacation.
For our last night in Montreal, Akemi and I went out to dinner with one of my oldest friends, Lawrence, and his lovely wife Melanie. They’re back in Canada after spending three (four?) years working in London. They’re both huge Coronation Street fans. No, really!
We enjoyed a late lunch of spareribs, brussel sprouts, green beans and a surprise dessert –
Yes, Cookie Dough Carly cupcakes from Jazzycakes [http://jazzycakes.wix.com/cake] compliments of blog regular (Sneaky) Sylvia! A half dozen!
Terrific! I had two!
Thanks, Sylvia! For the cupcakes AND the corn soup six years ago! Now YOU are someone who can take care of me.