Things I Never Thought We'd Say Until We Moved Downtown

The Husband and I are coming up to our moving anniversary. One year ago this week we made the long and arduous trek from the North Jewish Ghetto to our current digs in the city core. Those of you who have followed this space on an even semi-regular basis had front row seats to my angst, emotional trauma, and naked fear as we prepared to leave our life-long suburban confines in order to begin anew as cosmopolitan urbanites. It was a complex cocktail of emotions ranging from exhaustion to exhilaration mixed in with a healthy dose of sadness and topped off with a heaping teaspoon of excitement. There was so much that was unfamiliar and so much to learn, but we embraced our neophyte status with gusto and anticipation.

And now...after almost a year...I can confidently say that we are finally settled. I have a new pharmacy, bank machine, grocery store, and dry cleaners. I still have a few things for which I safari north, not the least of which are dear family and friends, but for the most part, we have constructed a comfortable and no longer strange daily norm for ourselves, all while exploring parts of our hometown that we really never knew existed.

As I have thought back on this year, I have compiled for you all a few memories and thoughts that I still can't believe occurred. These things really happened and the statements forthwith are as true and verifiable as they can possibly be coming from a middle-aged mind. All names have been changed to protect the guilty and supremely embarrassed. Let's just file these under the heading Things I never thought we'd say until we moved downtown.

Him: Wow. Did you hear that?
Her:  Yeah. What the fuck was that?
Him: A cannon.
Her: A what?
Him: A cannon. They use it to mark noon at Fort York. Isn't it cool?
Her: This is 2017. I think we can dispense with in-city cannon-fire and start using a clock. 

Him: I can't believe how much I like riding the streetcar
Her: Even when the passengers smell like headcheese?

Him: The sounds of the city are amazing. They have a real rhythm and a pulse.
Her: Unlike the guy who was stabbed last night across the street.

Her: Maybe I'll buy a bike helmet.
Him: Are you seriously considering riding a bike?
Her: I'm not sure yet. Do you think people will be upset if I ride on the sidewalk?
Him: You're not buying a bike helmet.

Him: I think we should go to the Ex this year.
Her: (pulling her chin off the floor) Really? We haven't been in twenty years.
Him: Yup. We can walk over. Besides you love that Food Network show Carnival Eats. We can marvel at the weird concoctions.
Her: We'll have to walk. I'm gaining weight just thinking about it.

Him: I went to buy bread at that amazing looking bakery across the street and they laughed at me when I asked them to slice it. Apparently, that just isn't done down here. It will "ruin" the elasticity. Who knew?

Him: The guy at the convenience store keeps treats under the counter for visiting dogs.
Her: That's cool. Does this mean we can get a dog?
Him: 🙄

Her: Tell me again which way Richmond and Adelaide run?
Him: We've lived here almost a year. Are you ever going to get it right?
Her: (the next day) Tell me again which way Richmond and Adelaide run?

Her: Hydroponic herb-growing is kind of awesome.
Him: Honestly, that's a phrase I never thought I'd hear from you. Ever.

Him: I just realized that you can see into our bedroom from a corner of the rooftop garden.
Her: I just realized why we have blackout blinds in there.

Her: I swear that everything in this fucking condo was designed for Andre the Giant.
Him: Not really. They just never thought it might be inhabited by the Queen of the Lollipop Guild.

Her: I think we need to buy a bundle buggy for shopping
Him: We're not doing that. Old people do that. We can carry everything we need. We'll look ridiculous.

Her: (a few months later) That cauliflower looks amazing. Let's buy it.
Him: We can't. It's too big and we can't carry it. I guess we'll have to give up purchasing the chocolate covered raisins, bags of chips, and ice cream if you have your heart set on the cauliflower.
Her: Or...we could buy a bundle buggy?
Him: Only if you're the one pulling it. I'll look like an old man.

Her: (later still) I just dropped three dozen bagels on the ground at What-a Bagel
Him: (choking back the laughter and tears) How? Whaaat?
Her: I was trying to look like a cool urbanite and not use plastic bags and the steam from the hot bagels caused the paper bags to disintegrate. I looked like a dotty old lady scurrying around on the floor trying to recover three dozen bagels.
Him: This wouldn't have happened if you had a bundle buggy. 
Her: 😠

Her: I think we've both lost weight since we moved. We are definitely exercising more and walking everywhere. That's a good thing.
Him: And our shopping habits have changed. Because we haven't bought a bundle buggy, we are more careful with our groceries. We can't carry the junk so we simply don't buy it.
Her: True. And we are carrying several kilograms of stuff every time we walk. 
Him: See...we don't need a bundle buggy.

Her: (last week) I love St. Lawrence Market on a summer Saturday.
Him: Yup. This is why we moved. I love the energy and the people.
Her: Look at the beautiful peaches just in from Niagara. A basket is only six bucks.
Him: Do you realize how heavy they are? And you made me buy that bottle of barbeque sauce for your mother and now you want me to shlep peaches? We still have a 5K walk home!!
Her: Bundle buggy?
Him: Fine!
Her: (Ordered today)

Happy urban-versary to my honey. May we have many more years like this last one.

50 Years and Counting.....

I have really struggled with the writing of this post. It shouldn't have been all that difficult. I mean, really! How many couples do you know that have managed to make the 50 year anniversary line, and how many of those are actually related to you? My parents will be celebrating this auspicious milestone this coming Saturday and since we won't actually be in the same city until Sunday, I really wanted to recognize the day in print. But the writing gods have been tremendously unkind and have afflicted me with a block at the exact moment when eloquence is desperately required. You see...I felt that I needed a hook, a literary device to express exactly what I am feeling and to hopefully make the post more interesting to you the readers. Maybe a bit of satire or comedy? But then I realized that this nonsense was horseshit. What really matters isn't the flowery language in which I couch my emotions. It is the occasion itself.

There will be ample celebratory moments for our family over the next couple of weeks as we all arrive in the Southern Home to fete Mom and Dad, but the actual day is being planned as a low-key affair. When I asked how they planned to spend Saturday, my mother answered in typically understated fashion "I am thinking chicken wings, pizza, and maybe The Big Bang Theory on Tivo." When The Little Bro and The Ying to his Yang put together an invitation for a small party being thrown down here, they used my parents wedding picture as part of the design. My mother strenuously objected. Not just because she loathes their wedding picture (too long a story for this post, believe me!) but she really wanted to keep the occasion light, fun, and devoid of mush. My sister-in-law always the artist and ever the smartass, replaced the photo with this:

My mother loved it. It was exactly in keeping with how she and Dad want to celebrate.

My parents are not the centre of attention sorts. (Ok! Dad is-but he shares this particular centre with Mom.) They don't want speechifying or toasts. They aren't into slideshows or big parties, and most of all the dictum came down from on high that "there are to be absolutely no syrupy recollections." For them, it is all about celebrating with family and close friends and that is exactly what we plan to do. But as is my nature as oldest child and obstinate daughter, I just could not let this Saturday pass without a few thoughts. So here are some random thoughts about 50 years with my Mom and Dad.

50 years of Dad telling stories and 50 years of Mom correcting his tall tales.
50 years of Dad screaming about nothing and 50 years of Mom laughing about it later.
50 years of Dad losing stuff and 50 years of Mom finding it.
50 years of Dad getting lost and 50 years of Mom digging him out of his self-created holes and getting him back on course.
50 years of Dad telling jokes and 50 years of Mom fixing the botched punchlines.
50 years of Mom taking classes and 50 years of Dad reaping the benefits.
50 years of Mom baking and cooking and 50 years of her telling Dad that he can't eat any of it.
50 years of travelling the world together and 50 years of Dad meeting people he knows in all corners.
50 years of technology and 50 years of Mom trying to idiot proof it all for Dad.
50 years with Other Mother and Other Father and 50 years of developing a relationship that is unique to the outside world.
50 years of public displays of affection.
50 years of kvetching and 50 years of thanking a higher power that those kvetches aren't much worse.
50 years with 2 kids, 1 son-in-law, 1 daughter-in-law, 5 grandchildren, 2 other kids and spouses whom they treat as their own, 5 great-nephews and great-nieces who think of them as Bubby and Zaidy, and countless other family members and friends who love and respect them.

Not a bad legacy for 50 years of marriage.

Yesterday, when discussing this anniversary with my mother she told me a story that she heard while attending Susan Werner's concert last weekend. It seems that Susan recently lost her grandmother who hit the century mark and then some. She shared some of her grandmother's wisdom with the audience. When asked the secret to a successful marriage, Susan's grandma replied "choose someone that you can live with and not someone that you can't live without." My parents figured that nugget out a long time ago. They adore living, loving, and laughing together and my guess is that they wouldn't have changed much in the last 50 years. Ok! Maybe my father's temper tantrums and my mother's guilt trips could have found their way to the trash, but other than that....NOTHING! Happy 50th Mom and Dad. May you continue to embrace every single day as if it were a gift. Too mushy? Too bad.

Love, Dawn (Your first born, obstinate, opinionated, strong-willed daughter that you made in your images!)