Don’t you just love a Wedding? I do!


COVID has really taken a tole on Weddings and I suspect Wedding Planners – but we do seem to be rounding that corner as more and more weddings and other life events are starting to pop up like fleas on a dog.

So not to anyone’s surprise really – I was fortunate enough to be invited to an over-the-top, absolutely fabulous wedding on Long Island last weekend. The Groom was my cousin’s son, and the bride was the love of his life. As befitting both my cousin, her son – and the bride – it was at once traditional, and fun, and well attended!

Our family made what we thought would be a solid presence – 13 in total! But we barely made a table full – the rest of the over 200 attendees were friends of the parents, friends of the bridge and groom, and family of the bride.

The wedding was very very nice – the dress was ‘Black Tie Optional’ so there were lots of runway ready gowns on display – including a gal wearing a ‘Rent-a-Runway’ purple number that screamed ‘FABULOUS’ My sister actually asked her – apparently ‘Rent-a-Runway’ features dresses that have actually been on a Runway. Of course they do – it’s NYC of course. Note here – apparently only in sizes 4 and below. I’m not wearing one – ever.

And there was a ton of food. The catering team took the ‘we want the best’ idea to heart – and delivered, and delivered, and delivered. As certified ‘foodies’ – of course I wanted to try everything – but it wasn’t even close to possible. So I just relaxed, went with the flow – and had a blast.

The party started at 6:30 when the opened the doors to the temple. Why 6:30 PM? It’s an odd time actually in Jewish circles on a Saturday night – turns out there was a bar Mitvah book before – and that had to be cleaned up and the temple proper re-set. That makes sense. The Bar Mitvah would be a luncheon thing – so the cater and florist would have had about 4 hours to get the room reset – maybe only 3 if the party before ran late….

Can you imagine the organization needed to pull this off? I can’t even begin to imagine it – but I’m guessing experience counts big when doing something this big that fast.

Anyway – the temple was glorious – the floral artists outdid themselves. The Canopy over the bride and groom was huge – at least 20’ high, and frosted silver with drapes from top to bottom. On the front edge was a flower arrangement to die for. Huge flowers draped and interlaced with orchids and smaller buds – and Roses of course – hung about 2’ high across the entire top and then spiralled down the sides.

And they had spread rose petals all up and down the aisle – which was far better than having one poor flower girl try to do it. Lovely. While the ‘crowd’ – and I’m guessing maybe 200 people – were clustered waiting for the temple doors to open (dud – they were removing the Bar-Mitvah and getting the flower arrangements up) wait staff was circulating with nibbles. I had a white fish in a pastry cup that was completely yummy. But I spotted at least 5 other options – just none that came within grabbing distance.

I’m still a bit COVID-shy – so We hung back and stayed outside – waiting till the crowd got seated. Then we snagged a back row of seats for the 13 of us.

I wasn’t keen to get too close to anyone – so the hanging back and the waiting made me much more comfy. And as the groom told me – the synagogue has huge high ceilings and a very very effective air treatment system. It felt very safe.

Unlike Friday night when, I admit it, I panicked. The plan was to go to the ‘out-of-towners’ dinner party at an Italian Restaurant nearby. My sisters and their husbands, some of my nieces and nephews, and my son and his family were going to be there – so I was totally looking forward to a fun chat and a chance to meet the bride. I’ve know the groom since he was born!

When we arrived – all looked fine. The restaurant was large, and had a lovely outdoor Terrace. But that wasn’t where our party was being held.

Our room was in the basement, and it wasn’t just my family – it was all the ‘out-of-towners’ – around 50 people. So it was crowded, with a low ceiling, and lots of folks all gathered together.

Way way too much in my face for me. I did what I did months ago at a funeral. I got short of breath, felt overwhelmed, and did the wussy thing – I walked out.

My husband, Victor, eventually found me (I was sitting in the back of the restaurant near our car – outside – open air. Just sitting). I explained my issue – he went in and gave my excuses – and we went out for a quiet dinner – just the two of us. I felt better.

But I paid for it however – my sisters were very concerned that I was having a nervous breakdown – particularly my baby sister – who’s had COVID (as has her husband) and treated it like an imposition that kept her out of some parties. I keep flashing on folks I know who have long COVID and think – yeah – not so easy for everyone. If I’m not comfy – I’m not staying.

By Saturday morning – my family had forgiven me, and we walked in the AM. Then we went for a lovely lunch at a place called – no joke – Schmeers – and then walked back from there to the hotel. I think the total distance was over 5 miles – so when we finally got back to the hotel – I promptly passed out. 2 hours later I was up, primped, and ready to party!

So – back to the Wedding …

After the nibbles and drinks, they opened to doors to the synagogue and we all went in. The wedding ceremony was lovely – the fun part was when the groom – instead of stately and slowly walking down the aisle between his parents – instead dragged his parents down the aisle – about 1.5 feet in front with his arms and hands behind him pulling them along. Guess that’s why normally the groom just appears on the side – no chance to make that mistake.

Clearly this is a love match, and he was really ready to get on with it.

The bride is a lovely gal – she was wearing a lovely gown, and had clearly paid attention to the instructions to walk slowly. But it was clear that she shared the grooms excitement. Together they were adorable.

They had all the makings of a lovely, lovely wedding. The Rabbi who officiated was charming, everyone looked great – and no one fainted. It was clearly a win-win for everyone.

After the wedding proper – and I’m guessing during the photo session – there was a cocktail hour – because we all needed more drinks. They had set up stations of food – I saw and enjoyed a veggie dip station, a Taco station (fish, chicken, two kinds of veggies), A tacquila station, a sushi station, a tartare station – and that’s just what Victor brought me to nibble on. There were folks walking around with more food – including deep fried lamb chops – which is a SIN to do to a lamb chop. I can’t even remember the other options.There was a lot!

Then they opened the dinning/dancing area with a crystal chandelier that had to be at least 25’ high over a huge dance floor and a 10 piece band! No joke – 4 singers, 6 musicians… and LOUD. As my son explained – they had a sound guy – but he might be deaf.

They were handing out ear plugs.

Despite the volume – the play list was perfect. Songs I knew – Songs I didn’t know but loved, and the singers would actually go among the dancers – inviting them to sing into the mike. It was fun. They had baskets of flip-flops for ladies or guys to grab if they needed out of the fancy shoes – and after the first rounds of toasts to the bride and groom – they served dinner.

There was a huge plate with soft cheese and tomato salad, a choice of steak and salmon or a vegetarian bowl, and then dessert…

Ah – dessert. You know how I love dessert – and this was over the top fabulous. The ‘main’ dessert was a hot chocolate chip cookie on a mini skillet. In addition, wait staff with trays that reminded me of those ‘cigars, cigarettes, tiperalo’ trays of yore wandered around with other kinds of pastries to grab on the go! My favorite was a Napoleon that was positively yummy. But again – not sure I spotted all the numerous options. Did my best of course.

Outside was a box filled with chocolate roses – delicious. And just as you walked outside the cater has set up a popcorn and Hot Pretzel stand. Such a fitting NYC frame to a really nifty wedding!

I danced till my feet hurt!

Not true – I was wearing my jazz shoes – so my feet never hurt – but I did finally get tired!

It was a blast.

Sunday brunch was in comparison a quiet and peaceful affair – time to just say goodbye to friends and family – and the bride and groom!

Great weekend.. for sure. Just had to share the experience. Signing off till my next adventure – The Soup Lady

Day 166 – How do you celebrate 50 years of marriage?


Just to set matters straight.. We were married on Friday, September 11th, 1970.

Yes – I know – September 11. Not our fault. That date became infamous way after we were married – not fair really – a group of terrorists stole my anniversary date and made people think of something other than us..

For many years – because we were married on a Friday – Victor thought our anniversary was on September 13 (Friday the 13th) – but no… it’s Friday September 11, 1970. For sure.

6 months later, we went back to Atlanta to visit my parents – and Victor tried to return me. My dad told him – nope – warranty is up.

And on Friday, September 11, 2020 – it was 50 years…

Which is almost impossible for me to truly believe.

I was 21 when we got married. Hopelessly young and innocent and foolish and so much in love. I’m still in love you know – I adore my husband – ponytail and all.

I’m kinda hoping I’m no longer foolish and innocent – but I keep thinking that I’m still young..

Doomed to disappointment I’m afraid to say.

So just how does one celebrate 50 years of doing anything.. It’s a really long time. Way more than 1/2 my life. And here’s what really scary – longer than 80% (according to the US Census) of folks alive today have been alive!

Martin, the charming manager of Boneparte’s here in Montreal – where we celebrated our anniversary with an absolutely lovely dinner party for just 6 – annouced that he was born – BORN – the year we were married.

Our celebration – as most of our celebrations these days – was broken down into parts.. We celebrated in March in St. Croix – right as the COVID lock-down was happening with just our kids.. First time in over 20 years that it’s been just the 5 of us. It was really great – but the conversation centered around the COVID cases and how the world was going to react. We now know the answer – not great. But at the time.. we were a bit optimistic. Wrong – but positive.

Then we celebrated by traveling to send a lovely long Labor Day weekend in Barrie with our friends and Lucy and Lacy – the horses. It was a blast… a long drive each way – but worth it.

Then we had a wonderful dinner party at Boneparte’s – filled with laughter and gift giving and my kids and their kids.. Only Grover didn’t come, but the feeling was that perhaps the party would go on past his bed time. So we shared videos of him. He stayed home and went to bed on time. Probably better all around.

We got caught up on the lives of our two charming grand-daughters – who look more and more beautiful every time I see them. Their lives – like the lives of all kids from 13 to 21 these days are complicated by the truth of COVID. The youngest one is caught in a ‘bubble’ at school that doesn’t include her closest friends, and the older one is trying to have a relationship with a guy, be a young adult, start her working career – and dealing with idiots who refuse to wear masks, to social distance, to admit they are COVID positive, and thus put her life in danger.

I just don’t understand why people are so sure that their right to do what they want trumps the right of other people to feel safe. Why would any one who knows they are COVID positive not alert their friends. What is there to gain by not saying something. It confuses me.

As usual – I have digressed…

Back on track – Saturday afternoon we had a Zoom conversation with all the family – my daughter and grand-daughter in London (hubby was sick with a cold in bed – not Covid), my son and daughter-in-law in California, and my kids here in Montreal.

The we finished off with an equally splendid dinner party – period correct this time – which means we were dressed in our 1812 finest… Silver service, candles lit, music softly playing, amusing conversation, and No IT! Unfortunately for our hosts – their maid and butler had taken the day off (they always do when we come over… ) so while the service was excellent – it was our friends doing the service!

The meal celebrated our trips together. First course was a salmon tartar (yummy) with ground cherries. They are one of my favorite ‘fruits’ – which my friends only discovered when we were together in Quebec City. The 2nd course was a lobster Bisque with shrimp – we’d gone out to Boneparte’s – in period clothing – and three of the four of us ordered the Lobster Bisque… The 3rd course was Rabbit with Olives – in honor of our time together in Malta. The cheese course was again in memory of the Quebec City trip – we had cheese every evening before dinner in the ‘lounge’ area of our room in the BnB in Quebec City. And the desert course was a magnificent Charlotte Russe with a fruit topping. This was in honor of our times together at the Regimental Dinner parties in Vaudreuil.

The dessert was amazing. The dinner outstanding. The wines were well chosen to compliment the different dishes, and the conversation was delightful. We dragged ourselves out close to midnight – feeling very well feted indeed.

So this is how we have celebrated 50 years of being together.. And today is just another day – we’re headed off to buy fruit at Costco and the Marche near by – and having dinner together…

Life marches on… It’s 50 years and 2 days – if it lasts…

The Soup Lady

Day 19 – It’s feeling like Ground Hog Day


You remember that movie – it was awesome. Bill Murray is caught in a time wrap – he keeps repeating the same day over and over again.

Well – this forced confinement is beginning to feel a bit the same. I’m caught in a time wrap of repeated actions – get up, get dressed, play bridge, maybe chat with folks, eat dinner, watch an old episode of Death in Paradise – go to bed – and repeat

But if you remember that movie – you will also remember how Bill’s character gets out of the loop. He re-invents himself by using the time constructively. And I’m watching folks who are capable of doing just that – and I’m unbelievable impressed

Take this link for example:

https://www.facebook.com/601402741/posts/10157229075837742/?d=n

A Sedar on Zoom?

How absolutely creative is that – they had to have re-written the song, then learned and practice their parts, then figured out how to get it all captured on ‘film’.

Amazingly creative.

Ok – They are from Berkeley – and maybe they are actually theatre folks in truth – but I don’t care. They used their time to do something that made me laugh. And honestly – that was well worth their time.

Signing off to find something else funny –

The Soup Lady

Party Central at the Toronto Pride Parade


I’m a tad conservative – I’m not talking political, I’m talking life style. Husband, kids, house, grandkids – conservative lifestyle, conservative dress – you wouldn’t think from looking at me today that there was a flower child in my past. And the honest truth is that there wasn’t. I was in University during that period in history – but I spent that time studing physics and computer science, not marching from rights at every opportunity.

Color me conservative.

So you can also color me surprised to discover that I’d managed to decide to visit Toronto during Pride Week. This is a massively important week for Toronto, if the sheer number of rainbow flags, wall hangings, designs, and posters is any measure. I don’t think it would be possible to ignore the fact that it was Pride week anywhere in Toronto, but my sisters and I had managed to reserve ourselves a VRBO rental right in the heart of the Gay Village. No way we were going to be ignoring the festivities. Much to our surprise, we were part of them!

Hot Spot Central for Pride events is Church Street near Bloor – and we were just 2 very short blocks away on Mutual Street. We couldn’t have asked for a better location if we’d realized what we were signing up for. Church Street is party central, and we were just far enough away to avoid the noise – and close enough to have to walk thru it every time we ventured out.

We arrived in Toronto on Thursday, navigated our way to our lodgings, and quickly realized that something was happening. The unmistakable signs of a huge street fair being set up were everywhere. Tents being dropped off, boxes and boxes of supplies being unloaded, and giant marquess being set-up at all the major street corners were just some of the more obvious hints. And to say that folks were dressed – well – distinctively – would be an understatement. Clearly, something big was happening, and it didn’t take us long to put it all together. Of course – Pride Week – with the huge Pride Parade (over 3 million people (apx?) attended in 2017) was happening on Sunday.

By Saturday, things were in high swing. The street closures started at Bloor and Church and extended for blocks and blocks – well past where we were and only petering out at around Gerrad Street. Even the local Loblaws – a super Loblaws with both an upstairs and a downstairs was in on the act. An entire section of the grocery store was getting a quick redesign as a dance floor – with a DJ of course. Folks were handing out free drink samples at both entrances – Some kind of Lemon/Lime Coke at one door, and a fru-fru water at the other. Nothing like shopping to head-banging noise…

The hundreds of stalls set up along Church were definitely an eclectic group. From Light your Dick (selling penis shaped candles), to a wooden watch display whose 6’2” salesman wore high heels and a sequinned top, to a pose yourself in a bathtub photo opp – there were stalls the likes of which I’ve never seen before.

The lower portion of the parade route was devoted to more community oriented stalls of the likes of Save Water (handing out free metal water bottles), Pet Rescue (with their doggy mascot in his wheel chair), and a huge 2 floor bar/DJ set-up sponsored (yes I asked) by the largest Pot growing company in Canada. Nope – no free samples there!

My sisters and I wandered up and down the street – many times with our jaws dropped open in surprise at the clothing choices of some of our fellow revellers.

There were drag queens galore – some young, some definitely not so young. One of my favourites was wearing a dashing ballon headdress – and not much else. There were men – at least a dozen in my best count – sporting the full Monty. They had on rings that were strategically placed – I never did figure out why, but if you need to know – ask a guy. Leather strips formed a lot of the clothing options, as did push up bras, corsets, and tatoos. For some reason – lots of guys were wearing dog masks – mostly of the German Shepard variety – and being lead around on chains by either other men, or young woman. I will leave to the reader’s mind to figure out what they were doing. There was a Goth Statue of Liberty, a guy wearing ‘grapes’ (I think he was from a wine store), and lots of belly buttons (and other parts) on display.

And the noise – oh my – the noise. Every major street corner had a DJ booth and dance floor set-up. Some were massive 3 story affairs with light shows. Other’s were a bit more subtle – but not by much. One booth was playing a wild rendition of YMCA as we struggled past, but most were the more popular younger music that I can barely recognize as music. It’s mostly base noise, with a hint of melody.

And this party lasts, lasts, and lasts. It started warming up around noon on Saturday, and only slowed down a bit when it rained late Saturday night. On Sunday morning they began gearing up for the main event – the Pride Parade, but we opted to avoid both the rain and the crowds by heading towards the Royal Ontario Museum. This kept us dry and relatively sane. We let the crowds of Pride Parade Goers do their thing with out us. There is only so much Full Monty I need to see in my life.

Would I go back to Toronto for Pride Parade? Nope. Been there, saw that – I’m done. Would I suggest you check it out? Sure! It was eye-opening for sure.

Signing off to go back to her conservative life-style…

Malta – It isn’t just about meeting Royality


Not that meeting royality isn’t fun of course. It is – but life needs more than that – and Malta definitely delivers.

The Royality that we meet are two Marquis – but I’m getting ahead of my story.

Last night was a late night – and tonight promises to be late as well, but before we can go to the ball – our hosts have planned a day of Regency adventure. Well – not really adventure of course – but fun Regency style for sure.

We are all dressed in our ‘day’ outfits – so while not ball gowns – we do look pretty fancy. Our day starts with breakfast – and I must say we create quite the stir at the breakfast area. The staff quickly realizes that we must all be together – and seats us near each other. Handy for comparing outfits for sure.

After Breakfast, we stroll arm in arm over to the Gardens, where we pose for pictures (there are a lot of Japanese who are going to leave Malta very happy), and admire the view, the flowers and each other. It’s a lovely way to spend an hour. We then gather for a group painting (amazing how quickly those square devices make instant paintings these days), then stroll down the streets of Valletta to the Casa Rocco Piccolo. Our tour will be very special – the Marquis and Marchioness de Piro will be our tour guides.

Our group is split in half – 10 of us go with the Marquis, 10 with his wife. We’re lucky to be in the group with the Marquis – particularly because in our group is Tony – also a Marquis in Malta! And of course he and the Marquis de Piro are friends, and trade lively banter through out our tour. I’m dying to ask the Marquis what his children said when he announced – 20 years ago now – that he was opening their home to tourists – but I guess the question was rather mute. His older son runs the company that runs the tours!

The house itself is lovely of course – and packed with odds and ends of a life well lived. They have inherited collections upon collections from their family members – and all of them are carefully kept in the house. There was a folding chapel – for use when you didn’t want to dedicate an entire room to your chapel, there were 3 shoes from various popes – given to the family as thank-you presents. The Marquis explains that being given a shoe said you were close to the Pope, a gift that has since fallen into disrepute – not surprisingly. I think it’s weird.

There were a few outstanding paintings, but most of the collections were books – particularly books on Maltese arts and crafts like lace making. In another room were paintings of famous family members, including one aunt who was considered fairly wild and carefree – in 1920.

In our Regency clothes, we suit the house well – and both the Marquis and Marchioness observe that we are probably some of their best dressed visitors.

We leave for a glorious multi-course luncheon, and then retire to our hotel. I for one am definitely napping before we must dress for the ball. Tonight is going to be a very late night.

The highlights of the ball – aside from it’s location in a Church Museum in Medina – is the horse drawn carriage ride thru the walled city, the glorious desserts provided (I’m very fond of the Nipples of Venus that were served), and of course the dancing. The Dance hall has much better acoustics then our practice space, and a lot more room. I dance and dance till my feet hurt – what a wonderful way to spend the evening.

Tomorrow will be more Regency Fun – but tonight was memorable.

Signing off to tuck her very tired feet into her warm cozy bed – The Soup Lady

Malta – Who knew they do Regency here?


Let’s be even more specific – who knew that Napoleon had been to Malta? I mean Malta is all about the Knights of Malta – wealthy beyond measure, guardians of the pilgrims to the Holy Land, heroes of the Crusades. But Napoleon – in Malta?

Well – he was definitely here. There seems to be some debate about just how long he was here ( I was told 3 days, and just passed a sign that said 7 days) – but there is little question that he came, he said ‘give up’, and the Knights simply said – ‘Ok’. No guns were fired, the French simply occupied Malta and that was that. It only lasted about two years however – and then it went back into British control – which continued until Maltese Independence in 1964.

But that’s .hardly the point. The point is that we are here in Malta as Regency re-enactors. Our goal is to have fun, and show off our best Regency dresses, suits and uniforms of course.

I’m staying in the very fancy Phoenicia Hotel, just at the main entrance to old town Valletta. The hotel is very nice – and fairly expensive. But we have a lovely room and a large bathroom that features Grohe faucets. I must say I like the size and the towel warming rack – but I’m not a fan of the shower. They have taken a tub, removed the faucet part that fills the tub, and added a dual function shower. So there’s a wand and a standard shower head, no tub filling faucet. It’s ok, but not like the EB Hotel. And the water pressure is definitely lacking. I’ve been told that there is precious little fresh water on Malta – perhaps that explains the wimpy shower.

Our Weekend activities are to include a wine tasting lecture, a promenade thru town, a Garden visit, a tour of a Regency period home, a private tour of a local monastery, a dance workshop, a ball, and an afternoon tea dance. Sounds like fun to me! And of course all of this is to be done in period clothes.

Packing to come here was a nightmare, as I’m sure you can imagine. I need at least 2 dresses for Saturday (one for the ball, one for the day time activities), plus a day dress for Friday and a different day dress for Sunday. I need shoes, fans, gloves, head decor, my re-enacting glasses, and for cold weather wear – a Spenser and a shawl. Men, particularly men in uniform, have it so much easier. Which is why Victor is opting to come as a civilian – that way he can change clothes 4 times as well!

Our goal is get all of our re-enacting clothes into one big suitcase – using our carry-on suitcases for non-re-enacting clothes. And surprise, surprise – we actually manage to do this. Victor’s jackets, pants, vests and shirts take up most of the room, I use stuff bags to hold my rolled up gowns. I’ll just put them in the bathroom with the shower on hot and full blast to steam the wrinkles out.

And my plan totally works. I manage to get 4 dresses, 3 head ornaments, 1 black turban style hat, my dancing shoes, 4 reticules (small bags a lady carried to hold necessities during Regency times), and 4 pairs of white gloves into 3 stuff bags. And we manage to get those stuff bags into the one suitcase!

My dress on Friday is rather simple. A plain blue dress with my brand new and very beautiful green and gold Spenser (a short jacket with long sleeves) over it. I’m warm and comfortable, and I look good. Perfect. The wine tasting and lecture was interestingly done – but I can’t say that the wine blew me away. Malta is too dry and too warm year round to allow for really good grapes to grow here. And the winery we visited insisted on using only grapes grown on Malta for their wines. I’ll pass. And their ‘cellar’ is up a spiral staircase. That is definitely odd.

After the wine tasting, we have ‘free’ time – which I choose to spend visiting the Co-Cathedral of St. John – headquarters of the Knights of Malta. And it is wonderful. My senior price includes an audio guide – and I patiently listen to every thing it has to say. The Church is magnificent – but the highlight is the Chapel of the Novices – where hang the art work of one of those novices – the famous artist Caravaggio. After killing a man in a dual in Italy, Caravaggio fled to Malta and became a Knight of St. John. While a novice, he painted two massive paintings, both of which now hang in the Chapel. He was later expelled from the order – apparently he killed another man in a dual – he had a very bad temper – but the order kept the paintings.

And they are stunners. Gloriously beautiful and well worth the price of admission to the Church. I loved them – and spent almost 20 minutes admiring them. He was such a master of light and dark, of the theatre of painting. Sigh.

But I must return to the Regency world – so I leave the church and head back to the hotel.

Later in the day we have a dance practice that doesn’t go that well. It’s in the under-Croft of another church in Valletta, and it’s hard floor, hard walls, and arches make it impossible to hear the caller. She tried to use a sound system, but the feedback was very annoying. But we solider on, and do almost 30 short dances – just enough of each one to gain at least a tiny bit of motor memory.

I’m surprised that she doesn’t think to demonstrate the dance before calling it. We’re mostly experienced dancers – and watching folks do the dance one is just about to do is often enough to enable us to do the dance for ourselves. After two very terrible teaching efforts – she realizes that with this many people (we’re easily over 60) speaking so many different languages (I counted Italian, French, Russian, Maltese, Accented English (British/American/Canadian), and Spanish for sure), showing is faster than talking. So she smartly switches to demonstration mode, and the teaching goes much faster.

Unlike our practice sessions at home, we are learning a lot of dances – and then ‘dancing’ them for a fairly short time before starting the next one. I thought it was great fun – Victor found the feedback pretty annoying.

There’s a break in the middle for some much needed lemonade and biscuits, then back to the grind stone to learn the last dances before we head out for dinner.

The Weekend Price is all included (except breakfast), so as a group of around 60 we walk to our dinner restaurant. It’s on the top floor of an old old building, well located overlooking the Grand Harbour of Valletta.

Like traditional hotels everywhere – there’s an elevator – sort of. But it’s slow and small. And there are 60 of us. I quickly do the math and decide that walking up 5 floors is going to be a lot faster than waiting for that elevator. And so it proves. I arrive in time to grab a table – outside but away from the wind – and Victor and I are quickly jointed by the Canadian Contingent – Sebastian and Elena, Peter and Miyoko. Several other dancers join us – and we make a jolly, if a bit cold, party! Bottles of wine later, we retire to our separate dwellings in Valletta, tired but happy. Tomorrow is going to be a very full, very busy day.

Signing off to prepare for a day of dancing, sight-seeing, and Regency fun – The Soup Lady

The Angel and The Sparrow – Marlene Dietrich and Edith Piaf


I didn’t know that Marlene Dietrich and Edith Piaf were friends. Hey – I didn’t even know that Marlene Dietrich was a famous singer as well as a famous movie star. But you could pave the way to heaven with all the things I don’t know – so I guess this isn’t exactly a revelation.

Anyway – The Angel and The Sparrow being presented right now at the Segal Center is an absolutely wonderful piece of Theatre. It was originally written in German, and according to the billing – we were watching an English premiere. I’m guessing probably the Canadian premiere – but regardless – it was a most enjoyable way to spend an evening.

The musical play features 20 songs, including Edith Piaf’s most beloved songs – Padam, Padam, La vie en Rose, Milord, and Non, Je ne regrette rien. The Marlene Dietrich character in addition to acting the Ice Princess and delivering with great effect her many one liners – also performs some of her best known songs, including rather surprisingly – Where have all the flowers gone.

But the singing is only part of what made this evening a delight. The story line follows the life-lines of these two incredible woman, who it turns out – were friends. They meet in New York, where Marlene, already a star, befriends Edith who has come to the US to break into the American music scene.

In the play, they become lovers – although a quick ‘google’ revels that this wasn’t actually known to be a fact. But it is a fact that they were friends, that Marlene participated in Edith’s wedding, that they had a major falling out, and that perhaps they patched it up shortly before Edith Piaf’s untimely death at 47.

Of the two singers – clearly Louise Pitre as Edith Piaf wins the day. The play follows Edith’s spiral down, and Louise clearly plays this up for all it is worth. The highlight at the end – her rendition of “Non, je ne regrette rien” in a hospital gown with the Cross necklace given her by Marlene Dietrich hanging dramatically from her neck is a show stopper. It is also a heart stopper! There were few dry eyes in the house – and the standing ovation was clearly deserved, and not because folks were ready to leave.

Walking out to folks humming bits and pieces of various Edith’s songs was a charming way to end a memorable evening.

I’m reminded once again how fortunate I am to live in a city where great theatre happens.

Signing off to the tune of Milord…

The Soup Lady

Fun stuff in Surprising Places – The Toronto Salsa Festival


I’m in Toronto – staying at the Sheraton Hotel in Downtown Toronto to play bridge. Not very exciting travel I know – but be patient my readers. I promise that good stuff will happen!

I got to Toronto by train. I do love traveling by train. It’s not always a bargain of course. I prefer traveling ‘business’ class – more comfy seats, cleaner windows, and service. I adore service. Make me happy – do something nice for me! Serve me a meal, offer me coffee, or just smile. I’m relaxed and enjoying my travels.

Any way – Trip to Toronto included a lovely dinner, a glass of wine, desert and a glass of Port, Trip home will include a selection of beverages, a lovely dinner, and some more Port. I’m totally counting on the Port on the way back home to Montreal.

I arrive in Toronto – big city, big city smells, big city sounds, big city hassles. I drag myself and my carry-on up Young street to the Sheraton, navigating pass homeless camping down for the night and young business folks checking out the bars that line this main drag. Lot of lights, lots of action. But I’m focused. Get up the street safely (don’t get hit by a car, a trolley, or a group of revellers) and settle down for the night.

Task accomplished, I check in and check out my room. I guess they felt sorry for me – because the room is a bit of an upgrade. It’s in a corner with a lovely view, and a bit of extra space. More than ample for my needs. The bed is huge – it’s king sized, and since I’m on my own, will mostly stay unmussed.

Tuesday thru Sunday is bridge, bridge, bridge. I’ve written before about the issues with PUPs (Pick Up Partners) and this time is no different. Some great, some not so great. My favourite is the older gent from Sault St. Marie – we manage to place 8th overall – among 80 some teams. This earns us upwards of 2 Gold Master Points, and earns me some very nice praise from his wife! She’s a Life Master, he’s playing catch-up to her – and she’s very impressed by how well we did. Hey – I’m impressed by how well we did.

Fast forward to Saturday night. One reason I like Regionals are the night games. Fewer players, lots of fun, and a great chance to do well. And I don’t have to fuss with thinking about what I’m going to do that night in a strange town. So I’m pleased that there are 2 night games on offer this week – one on Friday, one on Saturday.

Friday’s night game goes as planned – I score some more Master Points – have fun – all is good.

Saturday’s night game is a different story. I have a partner – what I lack are opponents. No one shows up! Well – not enough folks show up. And the game is canceled. Bummer. Now what.

It’s 8:00 PM, it’s Saturday night, and I’m alone in the big city. Hmm.

I check out my options – and spot some kids dressed up in Salsa clothes walking around the hotel. A quick chat – and I find out that the Toronto Salsa Festival is this weekend – here in my hotel. Tonight there is a show, followed by 4 hours of social dancing. The show is due to start at 8:00 – and while there’s a cost of admission, the opportunity to see professionals and semi-professionals dance seems priceless. So I cough up the money – and get my pass.

The lovely ticket sellers explain that the show will start when it starts – there have been workshops all day, and until the room is clear, they won’t let the ‘tourists’ in. So I join a line of other earlier comers and prepare to wait.

I’m terrible at waiting actually – so after being polite for a while – I eventually start chatting with the folks in line with me. In front of me are an ‘older’ couple – not as old as me – but I’m as old as the hills – what do you expect. Their daughter is performing tonight – and they gleefully explain her hobby to me.

She has a full time job – but she joined this dance group – and they are frequently invited to perform at shows around Canada and the US. They are unique in that they are all female dancers (how unique is going to be clear later in the evening), and are in great demand. They will go to your event – do their performance – and then split up and dance with everyone. They give Salsa lessons, and make sure everyone has a great time. I can totally see why this would be a hot idea for a team building activity! And she and her fellow dancers are very cute. Fresh faced, young, and unremittingly cheerful.

The folks behind me are friends of other dancers – and as each group gets organized to enter the hall – they come over to blow air kisses (don’t mess the make-up), and share hugs and good wishes. I get a close-up look at some of the outfits – I can’t wait to see what they will look like on stage.

Eventually they get the stage clear and organized and we’re admitted. The couple in front invite me to sit with them, so we snag seats as close to the front as possible. The first few rows are saved for VIPs – which turn out to be the kids who have finished performing!

There are a lot of chairs – probably over 300 – and it’s hard to imagine that the space will be full, but eventually – it is full. The show starts off slowly with the less professional teams – and suffers from some organizational challenges – the music for the first group doesn’t start on cue. But they quickly straighten that out, and the show begins.

I’m completely utterly amazed. Imagine about 100 young, completely fit, beautiful young people dancing, performing, and generally have a wonderful time. They come on stage in various groupings. Larger groups are generally up to 6 or 7 couples – dancing in pairs of course, but all doing generally the same steps. Smaller groups of 1, 2, 4 or up to 6 dancers also come on stage. The fewer the dancers, generally the higher the quality of the performing. And the later in the evening, the better the performances too.

My favourites are a group of young men (5 of them), who call themselves the ‘Kingsmen’ – and frankly are highly suggestive dancers of seriously good caliber. They come back as a group of 6 – 3 men, 3 women – and trust me – they are memorable. I’m getting very curious about what is keeping on some of the outfits the women are wearing – so it’s not a total surprise when one gal has to keep tugging on the top of her outfit. We almost, but not quite, had a wardrobe malfunction!

Another memorable group feature women wearing string bikinis. To Salsa Dance. Really. The gals twerking in St. Croix have some stiff (hee, hee) competition in Toronto.

I’m totally loving this. The outfits are stunning, the dancing amazing – and then the professionals arrive.

OMG – right – that’s why these guys are the professionals. The beat gets more demanding, and the lifts get higher and the tossing more complex. I’m getting exhausted just watching them perform.

I will never think of Salsa the same way again. This isn’t dancing – this is ice skating pairs without the ice! One couple pushes this boundary the hardest by combining lifts, throws, spins and dance. There is even a death spiral – a spin where the woman’s head is inches from the floor – her weight supported totally by the guy. Strength, Beauty, and Speed.

My new friends invite me to stay for the social dancing, and I’m sorely tempted. There are 4 different rooms – each featuring a different kind of music. But my age and the efforts of a long day of bridge win out over my interest in watching folks dance.

I bid everyone good night – and dance well – and walk out past the rows of high heeled dancing shoes for sale. What an absolutely amazing hobby this must be.

If you ever have a chance to catch a Salsa Festival Show – and there will be one next year in Toronto on Easter Weekend – do it. Worth every penny.

Signing off to head off to my King Sized bed…

The Soup Lady

Exploring the Khayelitsha Township near Cape Town with Maurice Podbrey (Part II)


For the past 8 years or so, Maurice Podbrey has made it his mission to help a Youth Football Club in the Khayelitsha Township flourish – and an uphill battle it has been. But to attempt to explain what he’s been doing – and why it is so interesting, I think I have to start with a quick description of South Africa today, at least as far as I could see.

Officially – Apartheid ended 22 years ago – but undoing it has been much harder than I think most of us in North American can begin to appreciate.

I was lucky enough to find a wonderfully well written article on Apartheid (written in 2014). I highly recommend you read it – but I will summarize it below.

If you’d like to see the original piece – here’s the Link. Please read it – it’s quite interesting.

Here is my quick summary – The author makes several important points – He starts with a quote from Edgar Pieterse, director of the African Centre for Cities at the University of Cape Town. Edgar says: “The social engineering of apartheid came down to a very successful model of spatial engineering,” The author continues: “Tracing his fingers over a map of the city in his office, he explains how both natural landscape features and manmade infrastructure were employed as physical barriers to keep the different racial communities as isolated as possible.”

“Cape Town was conceived with a white-only centre, surrounded by contained settlements for the black and coloured labour forces to the east, each hemmed in by highways and rail lines, rivers and valleys, and separated from the affluent white suburbs by protective buffer zones of scrubland,”

Driving around Cape Town today – in fact driving anywhere in the area – one can see exactly what Edgar is talking about. It’s easy to spot the shanty towns (no electricity) and the black townships (bit nicer but still shanty houses – have electricity). And if one looks carefully – one sees how the highways, huge zones of scrubland, and other natural features hem in these areas. Folks who live in these areas have a very strong sense of community – but they can’t easily move away. It’s a giant move, or stay put. That’s the only choice.

And it’s a hard one even for us to make in Canada – if you chat up new grand-parents – they are torn between living their lives where they are, or moving closer to the grand kids. Hard choice. Now make that choice harder by not having enough money for a car – and putting the pieces of your life an hour away by bus (if the bus comes), or 2 hours away by foot. Keeping your family close, if unemployed is somehow more appealing.

In any case – life in the townships is tough. There are few jobs – well, I’m being generous – there are no jobs for young adults. No A&Ws, no Dad’s factory, no where to work. If you want to earn some money, you can try to start your own ‘business’ – selling stuff you pickup to passing cars, gathering wood from the near by scrubland, maybe helping people park their cars, but the pickings are slim. And you are miles and miles away from the places where any kind of normal job could be found. To visit the township where Maurice’s football club is located was a 45 minute drive from Cape Town. And there are 1.5 million people living in just that one ‘Township’ If even just 10% are young men from 16-22, that’s 150,000 of them. The numbers are simply staggering.

Back to Maurice. His football club isn’t trying to address all the problems – but it does specifically target some issues in one tiny area of the ‘Khayelitsha Township’. Kids who belong to the Pauline Podbrey Club get a hot meal after school – and are encouraged to do their homework either before or after practice. The teams (and there are at least 8 – organized by type of game, girls or boys, and age) have team colours and team outfits – paid for by Maurice’s fundraising. In fact Maurice’s fund raising has basically paid for everything – from the white board to the plastic chairs, to the kitchen set-up used to cook the hot meals.

When we went to visit – we were introduced to several of the ladies who work in the Club – the bookkeeper, a lady who works with handicapped kids of all ages, and one of the team managers. Some of the kids also came to talk to us – they told us about their ambitions – one wants to play professional soccer, or if he can’t do that – something with Math. The other young man isn’t on any team – he’s new to this township, having just moved here from the Eastern Cape, but he’s good friends with kids in the club, and is thinking about joining. Two young ladies, about 10 years old, were also there. They play Net Ball – a version of Basket Ball that is popular here. They demonstrated their techniques, as well as told us a bit about their lives. If you’d like to make a donation – and trust me – even a dollar would be well spent there – click here for the link to the Pauline Podbrey Foundation.

After we said goodbye to the Club space, we visited the new park that has been built near by the Club. It is a year old, and a lovely space indeed. There is a garden area with plants and flowers (the only growing things besides kids we’ve seen here in the Township), a playground, a soccer pitch, and a net ball court. Quite a remarkable difference from the rest of the township. We also drive by the shopping area – you can buy almost anything you’d want there – although it’s likely to be displayed on the ground, or hanging from the fence that surrounds the space. There are traditional looking, albeit poorly stocked, shops, but most of the shopping is done from individual sellers who spread their wears on the ground around the shopping space.

South Africa is a glorious country – magnificent beaches, towering mountains, wide open spaces. Surely there is enough room and enough resources to go around. There must be a solution – although it is of course not one a casual visitor can easily imagine.

I did dream up one idea – although I am willing to describe it, I can’t see how it could happen. There is a lot of undeveloped land in the District 6 area, hard by several of Cape Town’s now integrated Universities and Colleges. My idea is to build dormitories and Apartment houses on this land. The dormitories would be occupied by students – roughly 1/3 white, 1/3 black, 1/3 coloured. The idea being that living together would help them understand their similarities. Then here’s the interesting part. The Apartments would be rented only to graduating students who had lived in the dormitories – roughly on the 1/3, 1/3, 1/3 basis. And the rent received from the students would be kept on account for them. After 5 years – they would have to leave the Apartments to leave room for new students, but they would get back the rent they had paid in, perhaps matched by the government. This would give them seed money to get better jobs, a better home, to start a business.

Anyway – on to our travels.

After leaving the Township, we head back along the water to catch a lovely light lunch at one of the small towns on the beach. After lunch, Maurice drives us up to the base of the cable car that goes up Table Mountain. We’d hope to catch the thing – but it wasn’t running – too much wind. But never mind, even from the base the view is amazing.

Tonight Victor and I have decided to do something really really different – we’re going to a show at Gate 69.

The Cape Heritage Hotel where we are now staying is in a busy bustling part of Cape Town – very different from the deserted landscape just past the Water Front. And right across the street is the Gate 69 Club. I saw a brochure for the place – and it is obviously a Drag Queen Supper Club. And I figure – why not?

Getting reservations is actually part of the fun. They are officially sold out for tonight, but I decide to visit the box office for myself. I run into all three of the owners – all busy getting ready for the night – but very willing to find a space to squeeze in two guests from Canada. ‘Cathy’, the main hostess runs out quickly – only partly dressed – to welcome me – and tells me that she’s (he’s) only been here in Cape Town for 2 years – but loves every minute. I’m guessing that foreign visitors haven’t quite figured out how much fun this kind of thing can be – and we are being treated as honoured guests!

There is only room for about 80 guests – all seated at tables in front of a stage. The theatre space is all red velvet and gold curtains, the welcoming bar area is done in purple plush – and they have camped it to the max! Cathy Pacific – our 6’4″ hostess for the evening is decked out on the red carpet – greeting guests as they arrive with big hugs and a smile. She’s lovely – if a bit muscular for my taste! We are escorted in to the bar area, and share a glass of wine before climbing the stairs to the theatre proper.

Dinner is a complete surprise. I’m not sure what I was expecting – but not a fabulous multi-tiered platter – somewhat reminiscent of a British High Tea service. There are two kinds of olives, several different types of toasted breads, a liver spread, a hummus spread, two different kinds of ‘sandwiches’, chicken Satay, a tiny plate of cold vegetables, fresh bread served while we eat – and a wonderful hot soup with decidedly unique citrus notes. It’s yummy – and more than we can eat! We save the cheese plate and the fresh strawberries for later – and admire our ‘waitress’. Like Cathy – she’s enormous – and dressed to fly in a tight fitting airline hostess outfit. These ‘girls’ would never make it onto a plane – with their headdresses we’re talking over 7 feet – easy.

The show starts with the three owners welcoming us to their ‘place’. I had met ‘Cathy’ earlier in the day – and she has consistently refered to my husband and I as our ‘Canadian’ guests – too funny that. And then the show is on the road.

The premise is that the three airline hostesses have recently been demoted – something about using the toggle to eject the door and inflate the slide so they could make it on time to a performance in Cape Town. So they are doomed to ‘domestic’ and begin by mourning their loss of ‘duty-free’ benefits. The show is a brilliant combination of patter – and songs often set to recognizable tunes with words re-written to suit the venue. My three top favourites were a send off of ‘Be Our Guest’ that included the line – we’re not French you know.., a version of Rolling Down the River (Proud Mary) that laid them in the aisles – and of course the absolutely perfect ending song – Mein Herr. Yes – done sitting (sometimes) in chairs.

We laughed, we groaned, and we admired! After the show they served Tequila ice cream as a good-bye treat, and while other’s stayed to continue to soak up the bar, we headed across the street and to bed. Tomorrow will be a Big, Big, Day!

Signing off to get her beauty rest – The Soup Lady

Jane Austin Does Salt Lake City!


Nope – not Debbie Does Dallas – more Jane does Conservative – but lots and lots of fun.

We belong to JASNA – aka the Jane Austin Society – and without getting into particulars – our passion is the English Country Dancing. We didn’t join JASNA to debate the merits of Mr. Darcy over another one of Jane’s heros, analyise her books for hints about finances in Regency Times, nor get all dreamy about falling in love with the perfect man – but we will talk about dance masters, the finer points of dance behavior – and maybe even discuss the advantages of hard sole vs soft sole dancing shoes.

All of which brought us to the Valentine Regency Romance Balls in Salt Lake City. We traditionally spend several weeks sking in and around Park City – often returning back to Montreal on Valentine’s day. So imagine our surprise to be invitied to come to 2 – count’m 2 – Regency Balls in Salt Lake City right during our annual ski holiday.

Obviously – we just have to see what this is all about – so we grabbed a fourth suitcase, pack it full of our full dress Regency Best – and buy tickets.

This is the 5th year these pair of balls have been held – and they are organized by the JASNA folks in Salt Lake, with the participation of The Old Glory Dancers. They are held in the Masonic Temple in Salt Lake – a place you must visit. The ball room was huge! One can imagine the stern faces of the Masons overlooking some kind of Masonic rite in the space, and the hundreds of black and white photos – dating back to at least to 1906 definitely carry through on that theme – but for the purposes of a ball, the Masonic Temple is awesome.

The first ball was Friday night, the second on Saturday. Both balls included Dinner and Dancing- started at 6:30 – and were slated to end at 11:00. Keeping in mind that this is extremely conservative territory – the early ending hour shouldn’t be a surprise – but other things were.

Attendance, by Montreal Standards, was huge – 100 dancers on Friday, over 200 on Saturday. But the dance floor was so large that these numbers posed no problems. The space was grand, high ceilinged, cool, and while not a properly sprung dance floor – the surface was quite acceptable for dancing.

Unlike other balls I’ve attended – the only live music was during dinner – when a string quartet quietly played in a corner. The dance music was produced by iTunes – playing thru proper speakers so that it was sufficiently loud to be clearly heard over the hub-bub of the dancers. Speaking of hub-bub – and comparing this ball to other’s we’ve attended – the dancers were extremely polite, watching the demo’s attentively – and then paying close attention to directions. Maybe a Morman thing? Don’t know – but it certainly made it easier to learn the dances.

One clearly Morman thing – the conservative take on Regency dressing! Nary a heaving bosom in sight – the dresses consistently rode high across the chests of the ladies. Too funny that – I noticed the difference immediately, it took Victor a bit longer to pick up on it.

We were pleasantly surprised by the warmth and greetings we received. After all – you don’t generally get people from a different country (Canada) showing up at your local ball, deep in LDS territory! On Friday night we were given a prize for longest distance traveled, and then there was a ‘clap-off’ for best dressed Gentleman! My husband claimed the Mr. Darcy prize – much to my personal delight. There were also prizes for best dressed couple, and for most Anachcronistic dress. The winner on Friday was a gal wearing a dress featuring black leaves, but most Anachcronistic on Saturday night summed up what folks who revel in Regency dress find most distrubing. This gal was wearing a dress that ended about 3″ from what counts – with her legs on full display! Scandalous! And her hands were exposed, and her hair down. What was her mother thinking when she left home for the ball. I’m sure her coachman were equally alarmed!

On the other hand, the dance masters were truly excellent. Seriously excellent. Maybe some of the best I’ve ever seen. Each dance was performed without explanation by their team, then performed again with a verbal explanation. Then we formed up lines or quadrilles or circles – and they walked us thru the dances several times – each time allowing us to progress – so we got to practice with different partners, and in different starting positions. Finally – we’d do the dance – and the music would run long enough for everyone to move thru the entire line. It was Great.

Dinner – such as it was – was served about 1/2 way thru the evening. It was buffet style – a huge platter of salad, a metal serving tray of rice, a platter of ham like you get off a spiral cut, and grapes. I can easily observe that food quality was not a criteria for caterer selection. In fact, I’m willing to guess that we were looking at home cooking. Oh well – dancing is thirsty work – not so much hungry work! So grab some food and carry on!

Some other unique things about the Utah versions of Regency Balls – There was no alcohol served – but thinking back on other balls, particularly the ones held in Montreal, there was no alcohol served there as well. So maybe more of a JASNA thing. And another unique-ness – the after ball party! In Montreal, we might gather at a local late night restaurant for food and chatter – but in Utah – they danced! Rock and Roll of course – which is a hoot when you are wearing Regency dresses let me tell you.

And the last unique-ness – the age of the guests! Most of the JASNA events I’ve participated in tend to favor an older crowd – people looking for something active, but not too active. In Utah – Regency dancing is a way to meet guys and gals! So the average age was closer to 30 then 50.

Bottom line – we’ve penciled in not only next year’s Utah JASNA Valentine Dances – but also their summer JASNA festival. In fact my husband and our friend – the sword master – are working on a dueling workshop. I’m going to guess that the battle will be hard fought before a winner in announced.

Signing off to find a new pair of dancing shoes (mine died during the reel) – The Soup Lady.