Category Archives: Travel

Another Icon gone forever – And I’ll miss Spock forever


Spock died. Ok – I know – it’s not Spock – it’s Leonard Nimoy – but to me he was Spock. He was a visitor from another galaxy with issues related to his birthright that made him both intriguing and sometimes – lets admit it – annoying.

He was the torn in Captain Kirk’s side, the nemesis of Bones, and often the brilliant problem solver that saved the day for the Enterprise.

He took chances – both as himself, and as Spock – and challenged me at least to consider the benefits of not just doing the same old over and over again.

Getting scared isn’t a bad thing if it also means getting ahead. And one of my favorite posters has always been of a turtle with the slogan – a Turtle never gets ahead if he doesn’t stick his neck out.

And you are never too old, too set in your ways to ignore the pleasure of doing something that makes you happy.

So in honor of Leonard – in honor of Spock – in honor of growing up but not growing ‘old’ in the sense of same old, same old – let’s all go out and do something unique today. Something just a bit challenging – walk a little further, say hi to a stranger, make a plan to do something you’ve always wanted to do, try a new exercise, drive down a different road.

It’s in honor of Spock and Leonard!

Signing off so she too can go do something fun – and different – and challenging – The Soup Lady

Thanksgiving Boot Camp


What is it about Thankgiving that gets us so excited, so filled with antipipation? I’m sure it’s partly the heady lead up to the Christmas season and all the parties, gatherings, and over-doing that entalls. But in my family’s case – I think it’s more than that.

My sisters and I have made it a tradition to gather from the far corners of the Eastern US coastline somewhere to celebrate Thanksgiving. We’ve done it in Duck, NC, Stowe, VT – and most often on Edisto Beach in South Carolina. This location is a favorite because it is easy driving distance for 2 of the 3 of us, and while the house my one sister owns isn’t quite large enough for everyone (we number from 11 to 17 to more depending on how many of the kids and grand kids join us), it’s a start in getting housing for all.

But back to the boot camp atmosphere. We’re a heavy eating, heavy drinking, and mostly heavy exercising family. And I emphasise the exercising! My sisters are keen walkers – 2 – 3 – 5 miles – no sweat. Well, actually – a lot of sweat, but no problem. I’m less keen on doing these scheduled exercise based jaunts – I prefer a purpose to my exercise – talking a hiking trail, doing a 5K Gobble Wobble – those are my prefered ways of getting out and working off the heavy eating portions of the holiday. But then I think nothing of 6 hours of Downhill skiing – every day for a month. So who am I to judge? Just do what suits you I guess.

Anyway – Thanksgiving serves as an opportunity for me to do it all. Under the heavy eating category, there’s my sister’s Pecan Pie. I spend the weeks up to Thanksgiving thinking about how many slices I shall enjoy this year. 1, 2, maybe more? In some years she has seriously splurged and made 2 pies – so I can safely eat just one slice at the Thanksgiving feast proper, and be assured that there will be left overs for the weekend. This year there was just 1 pie – so I ate 1.5 slices on Thanksgiving. Good thing too – never had another.

And then there’s the Sea Cow. Actually – fried oysters at the Sea Cow. I adore fried oysters – but in Montreal our oysters are the thin lifeless kind that even fried just don’t burst into flavor in your mouth. But on Edisto – where oysters are harvested in great abundance year round – and the Sea Cow gets fresh oysters daily- the resulting fried oysters are the stuff of legend. Only place I’ve been where the oysters might have been better (and I’m not so sure they were) was New Orleans. Oh yes, the fried Oysters at the Sea Cow are that delicious. Now if only they made Double Chocolate Bread Pudding.

To add insult to heavy eating insult – there’s Charleston. Oh yes – Charleston does it right for restaurants. This year we feasted at the Charleston Grill – Fried Catfish and grits. Oh make my southern roots sing for joy!

And of course – let’s not forget the thanksgiving feast proper. My sisters and their families divide up the cooking chores – everyone cooking their favorite thing- My brother-in-law’s Turkey, my neices pumpkin muffins, my son’s Cranberry Sauce, my sister’s Chili, the stuffing, the casseroles, the pies, the freshly baked corn bread – and the wine. Boy am I glad someone always figures a salad would be a good idea!

And of course – there’s just getting together. There’s never enough time on a long weekend to indulge in much serious contemplation and consultation – but we do get to at least hear the breaking news, to admire how everyone has lost weight, gained weight, done their hair, bought a new shirt. And it avoids the – I haven’t seen them in ages – comment when you dutifully gather at least once a year.

Enough basking in Thanksgiving heaven – Does your family have Thanksgiving Traditions? What makes your memories sigh for the next opportunity to indulge. Come on – share your thoughts and pleasures – it’s too short a life to keep the joy of getting together for some later day!

Signing off (and Yes – I know posting Thanksgiving thoughts in Feb is silly – so no comments on that score) – The seriously late posting Soup Lady.

A Tale of 2 Ski Hills – Deer Valley and Jackson Hole


Jackson Hole – wild, wooly, in your face, hard-core, deep powder, tight trees, lousy grooming – VS – Deer Valley – elegant, fashionable, respectfully, friendly, warm, happy, sunny, clear skies, awesome grooming.

A Tale of 2 Cities – Jackson, Wyoming and Park City, Utah


It’s odd how cities with so much in common can be so fundamentally different. So lets start with what they share.

Is Travel Broadening?


Travel plans – or is it true that Travel is Broadening?

I love travel – I hate flying. Too bad teleportation is still in the future. I had hopes when I was younger that by the time I reached the impossibly OLD age of 65 – someone would have figured out the technology.

But no. You can send information around the world in seconds – but yourself – 35 hours of travel time from Montreal to Bali – going either way around the globe. You have got to be kidding me.

Speaking of Bali – I officially blew it. I could have done a round the world trip – flown Montreal, Paris, Singapore, Bali, Toyko, Vancouver, Montreal – but I lost focus when I saw I could get first class for only $1000 more – and opted to go and come via Paris. Missed opportunities.

So – is Travel Broadening? I think the answer depends on your definition of broad. If you mean fattening – I think that depends on who you travel with. When I travel with the Intrepid Traveler – we live cheap and simple – and we walk everywhere, eat little. So nope – that kind of travel is not that kind of broadening.

When I travel with my husband, it’s a bit trickier. I don’t generally put on weight – but I do have to watch how much I’m eating because the meals tend to be more elaborate, longer, and often fattening just because they last so long! But still – in general – I’d say that for me – travel isn’t that kind of broadening. I have friends who complain that a trip = 5 extra pounds, but I don’t think that’s the way it has to be.

What about the other kind of broadening – learning about new places, new cultures, learning new things. Again – this can depend. I’ve chatted up fellow travelers and discovered that they are accidental tourists – not travelers. They came armed with a certain point of view – and are determined to leave with the same. Been there – done that – don’t need to do it again seems the dominating characteristic. And they don’t give places enough time. I’ve been guilty of skimping on time too – so I know what I’m talking about. It takes time to experience a place, to get past the running around – need to see that museum today – headset and start just being there.

Sometimes people can’t help but limit their exposure to a new place. In South Korea we ran into a delightful Indonesian family that had very severe diet restrictions – so they had to cook all their food at the hostel. And they couldn’t even use the pots and pans provided – they brought their own. Trust me – they missed out on a lot of what South Korea has to offer – the food there was amazing. But I get the need for restrictions – it’s a tough choice.

What can you see in a city like St. Petersburg or Rome in just 2 days? It takes a day just to figure out how to get back to your hotel. 2 days is enough to say been there – but not enough to say – BEEN there. Which is why the Intrepid Traveler and I generally try to a lot a whole week per city.

It’s still not enough – but it’s a gesture in the right direction.

And then there’s preparation. I always want to read up on a place before I arrive – in case there’s something that needs to be organized prior to travel, in order to give myself a chance to get more comfortable with what I’ll see, and to map out the must do vs the can do options.

My preferences for planning are a combination of Tripadvisor (if 1000 people love it – you should at least check it out) and print media. I find on-line sources are too often about selling you something (their services, their bus company, their tour plan), and less about reporting what is and is not great about a particular activity. Guide books are quickly out-dated – we have all carefully followed a suggested route to discover that the thing we most wanted to see changed it hours, closed, is under re-construction – what ever. So checking on-line (watch those last updated dates!) and a guide-book and tripadvisor – and common sense – all of these play a part in organizing the perfect trip.

All of this muttering is leading up to my next blog – clearly another trip!

Keep eyes peeled.

Signing off – The Soup Lady!

Belles Soeurs – Sisters-in-law – Just Friends


The distinct advantage of living in a big city like Montreal is the amount of Theatre one can choose – or not choose – to see.

I choose yes. I love to see ‘live’ theatre – give me some actors, a stage, and a story – I’m a happy camper.

So this week was pretty well amazing. 3 great pieces of theatre in 7 days. It just doesn’t get much better – well except that it’s going to be 4 in 8 days tonight. Again – advantages of living in a big city.

Belles Soeurs – that’s a french title – but what we saw was the English version – done as a musical. So it was actually a premiere – if you ignore the fact that the play itself is 50 years old.

First – a bit about the story line and history of the play. Written by Michel Tremblay when he was just 23, this play was quite the stunner in 1965. It portrays French Canadian Women of the lower class in a hyper realistic way – from their dress, to their language and their concerns about religion, family, friends, and their lives. To the staid society of 1965 Quebec, that these women had a voice was considered shocking. To say that it’s a great piece of theatre is an understatement. Belles Soeurs is the most frequently performed play in the French Canadian repertoire. So I suppose an English language Musical adaptation was just going to have to happen.

And I loved it! While no song is particularly memorable – you aren’t going to go around singing Somewhere over the Rainbow, although I love Bingo has a certain catchy lilt – the ensemble is stronger than the sum of the parts. I was particularly impressed with the gal that sings the role of Pierrette – the much maligned ‘bad’ sister who got sucked in and spat out of the ‘club’ scene on St. Laurent.

As a musical – the flow of the play starts and stops as the performers break apart or gather to sing. I rather enjoyed this ebb and flow – it made great use of the Segal Center stage – it’s very shallow and quite wide – and definitely kept my eyes moving. Nice use of the space, I’d say.

But back to the story line – in brief, Germaine has finally won something – a million trading stamps. For those of us of certain age – we remember these stamps. You got them for shopping in stores, pasted them into books – and then in the words of the play – traded them in for worthless junk. But nifty junk – like toasters, and dresses, and wooden carving boards. All the things that today you shop for on the net – in those days they were only available thru these catalogs – and because you didn’t pay for the stamps – they seemed ‘free’. An early loyalty program like Sky Miles, but without the electronic tracking!

To suddenly have a million stamps – or once pasted into books – over 800 books – would be a god-send. And that’s exactly what Germaine thinks it is – a gift from her favorite saint.

But the stamps have to be pasted into the books or they are worthless – so Germaine gets the brilliant idea of inviting her friends from her parish (hence the title – Belles Soeurs – officially Sisters in Law – but in this case – sisters as in unrelated female friends) to come and help her paste. Their reward will be a few cokes and the company. Germaine plans to keep her winnings to herself.

This party sets up the rest of the musical. The ladies gather, they paste stamps and they complain about their lives, tellingly miserable stories of bored husbands, ungrateful kids, or the loneliness of the single woman who sees in a traveling Fuller Brush salesman her one chance at happiness – once a month.

These are not witty women, these are women stuck with the fuzzy end of the lollipop – and they know it. But despite the challenges of their lives, the play and the musical keep you tuned in. All is not hopeless – as Germaine’s teen-aged daughter gets to remind us.

I left feeling that I’d had a chance to meet some people I wouldn’t normally get to know. The Walmart greeters, the cashiers, the cleaners – who want the best for themselves, but lack the education and finances to pull it off. So a million trading stamps looks like a good way out.

Great theatre if it makes you want to tell others – go. It’s worth it.

On until November 19th at the Segal Center in Montreal – but coming soon to a musical theatre house near you. And definitely worth it.

Robin Williams – for me he was the voice of my times


I sometimes don’t do news – it’s so depressing, often boring, frequently silly. So somehow I didn’t know that the world lost Robin Williams until the morning. And it hit me hard. Very hard.

He was just 3 years younger than me – effectively a contemporary. His humor was our humor – we laughed at Mork and Mindy because going into space was something we all dreamed of doing. I remember when Russia looked like it might win the space race – and laughing at Mork was our way of laughing at Russia. And just like his role in Moscow on the Hudson – he captures what we’re afraid of – and makes it funny. Looking back – maybe we shouldn’t have been afraid – but Robin was there for us when we were.

Vietnam was our war – and Good Morning, Vietnam was how I wanted to think of it after the fact. Crazy, nuts, but with real people trying hard to do the right thing – and maybe not winning even a battle. But trying.

I can’t hear it’s a Beautiful World without Robin’s face flashing into my head – so strong is the association between Robin and my history and that movie. And he doesn’t even appear when that song plays.

I didn’t see every movie he made – but I was at Sundance in 2009 when he briefly stopped in to chat about his newest movie – World’s Greatest Dad. In some kind of not very funny world loop – it’s about a father whose son kills himself.

Reach out – right now – and hug someone you love. It’s the best way of celebrating his life and his memory.

Signing off for now – The Soup Lady

Napoleon’s Elba – More Dancing, More Food, More Fun – Part 2


To catch up – do read Part 1 of our Elba Weekend first – but to quickly recap – we were invited to be part of a grand ball held in Napoleon’s Honor on Elba – the 200th anniversary of his first ball there. An opportunity we just couldn’t miss! So we didn’t. We went with full period dress – expecting to have a ball – and a ball we had.

The weekend started well – First up – period theatre attended by Paulina Bonaparte, Napoleon’s sister who visited him on the island. She is ‘played’ to perfection by Irina Mishanina a lovely Russian lady with more changes of clothes than I have birds in my yard. Glorious, stately, and very nice. I’m pleased we had a chance to get to know her.

The theatre building was built under the orders of Napoleon, and finished just one month before his daring flight back to France. I can’t say that the performances were worth writing about – but Ben, our very British host who is currently living in Italy, did his best to explain audience behavior during the period. As we are seated in a box seat – we are allowed to visit other boxes – Victor even went to greet Paulina, but got too embarrassed to say anything to her! There is much flirting, waving of fans, and catcalls from the ‘floor’, particularly if one of the men in a box takes off his waistcoat. Simply not done!

After the theatre we had a light dinner (lack of seats was hard on old legs – but I scored one of the 5 tables for 4 that were provided – and we quickly became a group of 8) – and then 2 hours of period dancing under the stars. While onlookers could have joined us – they didn’t. Everyone dancing – and there were almost 155 of us – all period appropriately dressed. Victor was definitely the most dashing in his Marin de la Garde outfit. There were a smattering of other soldiers, many well-dressed ladies, and lots of music, laughter, and fun.

Saturday started early with us getting on a bus to tour the very tiny island. We visited Napoleon’s ‘summer’ house – built-in just 3 months. Perched high on a hill overlooking the main town of Elba, it was small, compact – and hot. Very, very, hot. I was relieved when we were summoned back to the bus for the ride to lunch.

Lunch was a period picnic – sailcloth spread on the ground in a lovely home on a far corner of the island. This was the location, and the house where Napoleon, ever the showman, spent his first night on Elba. He wanted to make a grand entrance into the main city – and needed to ‘freshen’ up after the fairly long voyage. Rumor has it that he spent his last night on Elba there as well.

We sipped champagne, chatted about this and that, waved our fans, and generally relaxed in the shade. My favorite part – meeting other guests! People came from everywhere to attend the event – including Austria, Australia, England, France, Germany. Malta, Russia, and Canada. Ok – we were the only 4 from Canada – out of the 155 – but hey – we looked good.

Back to the hotel for naps (I went swimming), a lovely but too quick dinner, and then to the Grand Ball. Held in the Ballroom of Napoleon’s ‘Palazzo’ turned museum – it was a tiny space for such a large number of guests. This was compounded by the fact that at the last-minute – the organizers were informed that the huge late night dinner spread could not be placed in the Museum proper, but had to go in 1/3 of the already small ballroom. But never mind – we were there to dance, and dance we would.

Many of the women sported trains – some longer than others – so watch your feet was pretty much the rule. The musicians were talented, the dance master tried his best to remind us of the steps required, and the company was simply too much fun. Even though I wore my ball gown, I frequently danced as a man – which just means to the left of the ladies – the steps being exactly the same. Given the heat – I’m glad I wore my silk dress. Victor as usually looked dashing – but found the heat pretty oppressive (two layers of heavy wool over his cotton shirt) and took frequent breaks.

During one of which he danced with ‘Paulina’ at the bequest of the photographer. You can check out the pictures all over Facebook – I think everyone but me got a photo!

Try following this link for pictures: https://mbasic.facebook.com/profile.php?v=timeline&timecutoff=1378867100&page=6&sectionLoadingID=m_timeline_loading_div_1420099199_1388563200_8_6&timeend=1420099199&timestart=1388563200&tm=AQAWkKRvhRVUpz66&id=126463247927&_rdr

I danced every dance – Victor and I admired the work required to create all the food, and I slugged down water. At some point during the evening there was a thunderstorm to end all thunderstorms – which occasioned much oohing and ahhing. Lucky for us -we grabbed a taxi home just as the dance ended – otherwise we’d have been soaked and wool takes a really long time to dry! Others were less lucky – either they walked ‘home’ in the rain – or had to wait over 2 hours for a taxi. Timing is everything.

Sunday morning dawned bright and clear – as if the thunderstorm had never happened.  Our hotel provided breakfast – and while it wasn’t the most amazing feast – the coffee was delicious, and I was able to get 2, 3 ever 4 cappuccinos! And most fun – other people we’d met were also eating breakfast there – so we had pleasant company.

The plan on Sunday was to sail on ‘La Grace’ – a completely wonderful new boat designed to look exactly like a 200-year-old sailboat. 2 masts, tons of sails, and hemp lines running everywhere and a crew of at least 2 dozen seamen – we’re talking serious sailboat.

There are 3 sailings to choose from – I convince Victor to sign up for the last – late afternoon sailing. You are more likely to have a breeze, the sky is likely to be glorious, and most importantly – there are likely to be fewer takers – so more chance to take a turn at the helm.

Arduina and Michel take the multiple sailings seriously – including acting the part of parents saying good-bye from the dock as a younger couple wave madly from on-board!

We arrive on the dock about 30 minutes before time to sail – to an adoring crowd keen to get pictures with the gloriously dressed men and women. Who knew I’d married a peacock? Well Victor was definitely the hit of the parade. Literally everyone was keen to be photographed with the brave solider – and of course the solider was pretty keen to pose. I helped by holding on to purses, umbrellas, and light jackets while their owners snapped away to their heart’s content.

Eventually we wave good-bye to our adoring fans and are ‘piped’ on board to be greeted by the captain. We cast off – ‘motor’ around to the center of the harbor – and then – raise the sails and sail off into the sunset. A nice breeze gives us a solid headway – and we pose for picture after picture. I do get my chance at the helm, Victor gets to pose holding the lines – and we even get to watch some of the braver re-enactors climb to crows nest. Not sure I’d try that – definitely not in my dress.

A fight breaks out between 2 of the crew members – to the delight of the guests. Words, Knives, and Swords fly – and the winner is declared. I’m a bit surprised that the captain didn’t call both fighters to task – but then again – this isn’t really 1814!

All good things – including great weekends – must end. And we sail back into the harbor to a welcoming crowd of onlookers. Our group of 6 makes our way – in period dress – to a near-by fish restaurant to relax, de-compress – and enjoy more delicious food. And of course – after dinner – there’s a must stop at an ice-cream parlor. I did mention that the ice cream on Elba is outstanding.

Tomorrow it’s a reverse of our trip in – but with more luggage since 2 of our friends decide to join us in our car for the 2.5-hour trip to Florence. A wonderful weekend with great friends, fine food, super dancing – and tons of fun.

I loved Elba. Probably will never go back – there’s just much else to see in the world – but I’m glad I got to visit this tiny island. And I totally understand why Napoleon was really glad to leave!

Signing off – The Soup Lady

Napoleon’s Elba – Flash of the Past – Part 1


Elba – tiny Island – big place in History!

In 1814 Napoleon abdicated as Emperor of France, and accepted being the Emperor of Elba – a tiny island just off the coast of Italy. When he arrived – he described Elba as a village of fisherman – and set out to ‘modernize’ it. He had a home turned into a ‘Palazzo’, he had a theatre built, he built a summer home in just 3 months, he even smuggled Marie Walewska onto the island for a quick romantic visit.

And it is known that he gave grand balls.

Fast-forward 200 years – and a group of English Country Dancers from Florence (believe it or not – the kind of dancing done in French Society during the 1er Empire) decide to hold the first ball in Napoleon’s ballroom in 200 years. And we’re invited.

How could Victor and I miss such an opportunity?

And to make it a weekend worth the travel time – not only would there be the grand ball – there would also be a public dance featuring all the people willing to dance on a outdoor plaza at the foot of Napoleon’s home. There would be a dance workshop – a period picnic in the place that Napoleon spent his first (and last) nights on Elba – a visit to Napoleon’s country home, a mid-night period-correct swim, and a chance to take a 2 hour sail on the “La Grace” – a wooden sailing ship the same size as the one Napoleon used to escape from Elba in 1815.

So – we figured – hey – we’re going to Montmirail two weeks before (check out my blog – re-enacting 101) – let’s extend the trip to include the weekend in Elba. We made the best decision ever – we invited our dance master friends, Arduina and Michel to maybe join us. They agreed. And because they are dance masters – they also decide it would be a good idea to practice the dances in advance.

So – while still in Montreal 2 other couples joined us for the practice sessions, followed by a period appropriate dinner party. Great start to a fab holiday, no? The dance practices were fun – dinner was amazing. Turns out that Stephan’s family makes their own smoked salmon – and he arrives, fish in hand – with a slicer. Best Salmon ever. Meal ends with a period correct Croque-en-Bouche. But enough about a dinner party – this blog is about Elba.

Ok – so – first Montmirail, then Venice, then Nice, then Elba. To get to Elba, you must take a ferry – and I love boats. Getting on was a piece of cake, even with a car. Nice being off-season. Anyway – on, lovely ride, off. Find the hotel. Done, Done, and All Done.

Since the first dance practice was that night, we ate quickly and then walked up and up and up. Elba is a hilly little island – and Napoleon picked the top of the highest hill in the biggest town to make his ‘home’. And we were having dance practice near-by.

Coolest thing – Victor immediately meets someone he knows! The official Waterloo (and this event) photographer – who recognized Victor as the person whose photo he used for the ad for Waterloo 2010. Way cool, eh?

Dance practice is fun – a bit hot, but fun. Good thing we’d practiced. It made us look like some of the better dancers – always nice to feel superior. On the walk back we find a ‘closing’ ice cream parlor that agrees to stay open just long enough to sell the 4 of us some Gellato and Sorbetto. Italian ice cream is awesomely good. I’m just saying.

Friday we spent the day relaxing – checking out the stone beach, reading, and generally just moving slow. Then at 4:00pm we got dressed (Period Correct of course) – and started the weekend event.

Quick comment on dress – Men of this period wore waistcoats, vests, stockings, and ornate watches, neck scarves. Or they wore their uniforms if they were soldiers. Women wore Empire wasted (regency period) gowns – different gowns during different parts of the day. I only have 3 dresses with me – my silk ball gown, plus 2 lighter cotton dresses for Friday, during the day on Saturday, and Sunday. I have a parasol, gloves, and appropriate jewelry. I do not have a wig – which is a shame since most women are wearing either hairpieces or full wigs to get the right effect.

And a comment on numbers – there are 155 dancers – about 2/3 women, 1/3 men. So often the women must dance the ‘male’ role. This results in some pretty funny multi-lingual adventures – We form circles for example, alternating man – woman. But if there are two women, is the ‘male’ on the right side? The dance master goes from person to person identifying their role. Man, Woman, Man, Woman, Man, ????..

—- My adventure continues tomorrow —

 

Signing off for now – The Soup Lady!

World’s Best Mini Garden


Ok – maybe not World’s best – but definitely Montreal Island’s Best….

Wonder where the Hobbit Hole goes? MontrealMadame.com

Wonder where the Hobbit Hole goes? MontrealMadame.com

I adore landscaping – particularly landscaping that combines fun, beauty and great design inspiration! So imagine my surprise when I realized that one of the tiny gardens I most often drive past has had a complete redesign to make it one of my all time favorites!

The location of the mini-garden in questions is a park in Dorval – at the intersection of Fenelon Boulevard and Dawson Avenue. The cool thing is that if you are taking Dawson – you drive straight into the garden!

And this is not a garden – it’s a hobbit hole – with an Ent sitting nearby admiring his toes. There are mushroom trees – a walkway to the round door of the hobbit hole – in fact the only thing missing is Bilbo Baggins.

To create the Ent – the designer has taken a tree – and given it eyes, hands, a mouth, legs and arms. But it’s not just a ‘boring’ Ent – it’s a living breathing Ent. I particularly like the way flowers twine around his arm.

Ent beside a Hobbit Hole in Dorval Garden, Quebec - MontrealMadame.com

Ent beside a Hobbit Hole in Dorval Garden, Quebec – MontrealMadame.com

To the right of the hobbit hole are these majorly glorious mushroom trees sporting bright green leaves.

I’m not alone in admiring this beautiful garden – in addition to admiring my pictures – check it out on-line.

Dorval’s Hobbit Garden is definitely worth the drive by – if not the stop and take pictures! And say hi to the Ent when you visit!

Bright Green Mushroom trees near the Hobbit Hole in Dorval Gardens, Quebec - MontrealMadame.com

Bright Green Mushroom trees near the Hobbit Hole in Dorval Gardens, Quebec – MontrealMadame.com