Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday

Last Sunday was Capital City Pride Parade day in Ottawa.  I love Pride parades---they are joyful, they are over-the-top, they are inclusive and representative, and in Ottawa, mostly extremely well-received. What's not to like?  I'll tell you. 

• Walking in the Pride Parade with a camera you always hold in such a way that your finger takes up one-third of the screen. 
•  Not finding any pictures to prove you were there.

What I can prove is that my daughter Emily, and her daughter Robyn, were there, in a float some of the time, but mostly dancing, singing, swinging rainbow ribbons over their heads, offering PFLAG stickers to people in the crowd and generally making me glow with pride.  At Pride. 

Monday was a bureaucratic bore.

Tuesday, Dave and I decided to give ourselves a treat:  we packed up the Miata, put on sunscreen, motored the top down and headed out for an overnight stay.  Somewhere.  Dave always chooses a route that is not quick but is always panoramic.  We drove down to the St Lawrence, and followed the roads that took us closest to the river, heading towards Kingston, but not determined to end there.

We stopped in Gananoque after a truly beautiful drive looking at the Thousand Islands and choosing which houses and estates we would like to own,and found ourselves at a charming place that turned out to have rooms and a great reputation for fine dining.  Pulling in at this place and realizing how photogenic it was made both of us discover that our camera/phone batteries were down, and we didn't have a portable charger, so we decided that this would be an experience like in the old days when you might not even own a camera. As it turns out, like in the old days, we could refer to brochures (and websites).

Dinner almost made us forget how wonderful our day had already been.  This photo was not of our dinner, but it shows the artistry that we enjoyed that evening and the next morning in this lovely garden. 

Two ferry rides on and off Howe Island, and there we were in Kingston.  I made that sound just like I didn't sit there rigidly and barely breathing both times we crossed the water.  I had to stop myself from asking Dave if he would try to save my e-reader if the ferry sank.

Kingston is always a joy for me, because there are so many wonderful places to lunch, and because there are a high percentage of stores downtown that sell flowy clothes and Indian, Thai

and Mexican jewellery.  So with a bag of clothes and a bag of bracelets, we sat outdoors on a bench, eating a tuna sandwich on artisan bread (Dave) and the thickest ever pain au chocolat (moi) while sharing a just-made lemonade from le restaurant Pan Chancho, which I hold in high esteem.

Life is good.