Now I really know vacation's over.
7.30 am, up, drinking coffee, Frankie underneath my desk, blogging. . .all that's the same as it was last week.
It's the going to work and not going to the beach when the coffee and blogging are finished that drives home the reality that my vacation is well and truly over.
Going to my office or going to the beach.
Which do I really want to do?
Last week we were tooling around New Brunswick and PEI in a Ford Escape.
This week we are driving a Dodge Caliber.
The exact same color as the picture.
Same room inside as the Focus, if not a little more, but we aren't sure if we can get both dogs in trunk area together.
I'm on the fence about this one.
Feels like I'm driving a car trying really, really hard to be an SUV.
All I really want is my own car, returned and raring to go off on another adventure.
Alas, this seems to not be the case for us.
And who knows when it'll be returned.
After I meet a noon deadline for something at work, I have to go put out another fire.
Last week, while sitting on the front porch of the cottage, book in hand, basking in the warm glow of the afternoon sun, Keith comes out, cell phone in hand.
THAT only means one thing.
Meredyth is on the line and needs to talk to me about something.
She's upset.
She's had several people interested in taking over the lease to her apartment.
Showings all go well. . .apartment is neat and clean and everyone who has seen it is excited.
All is well until the time comes for them to meet the building manager and fill out the rental application.
It would seem, like so many organizations today, that the right hand hasn't a sweet clue about what the left hand is thinking.
Before I put the ad on Kijiji, I marched into the property managements central office and spoke with a leasing agent.
The leasing agent said:
1. The rent for that unit will be increased to $750.00, heat and hydro included.
2. Damage deposit was transferable.
3. It was a lease takeover.
The building manager informed our potential renters:
1. The rent for the unit was $810.00, heat and hydro included.
2. The damaged deposit was not transferable.
3. It was not a lease takeover.
Mer, who has an explosive temper, remained calm in front of the renters, however, she blew up at the building manager, who seems to be undermining our attempts at locating a renter.
She told Mer it wasn't a lease takeover because Mer could leave at any time.
To which Mer replied, then how come I have to find a renter?
To which the building manager had no answer.
My plan is to go back to the main office, speak with the leasing agent, again, and while I am standing there have her call the undermining building manager and tell her everything she has told me to ensure that everyone is on the same page.
And then I'll be reposting the Kijiji ad while Mer gets in touch with the formerly interested parties to see if they're still interested.
Hopefully they are.
The sooner this albatross is removed from my neck, the better.
Last Friday I was experiencing a bit of vacation induced hangover.
The early warning signs of a migraine to be specific.
So I did the adult thing . . .rested until things settled down.
Which meant no beach that day.
Because by the time I started feeling better, it was time to head to Moncton.
We had promised our city-pining children that we'd go to Moncton Friday evening for dinner and a movie.
A movie.
I know.
Both seemed to be suffering some serious Empire Theater withdrawl while we were away.
First, however, food.
Initially we had planned on going to Swiss Chalet.
My eating during our vacation period was no where near SFL approved.
And I was feeling it.
Everywhere.
Swiss Chalet, however, wasn't in the cards.
A missed turn resulted in us pulling into a parking lot next to Swiss Chalet.
And in this parking lot was a restaurant called Rossano's Italian Grill.
Ohhh, Italian, Keith murmured from the backseat.
Let's check it out, Stephen added, thinking about oodles and oodles of melted cheese on top of anything.
Yeah. Italian, deadpanned from the lactose intolerant Emily.
Lovely restaurant.
Fabulous food.
Shortly after we ordered, our waitress appeared with a woven basket full of different kinds of bread.
Stephen and I had the multigrain, Keith the cheese and Em the white Italian.
Then we started with a calamari appetizer.
Em was not the least bit interested in trying squid, but Keith dove in with relish, munching and ummmmmmming at the same time.
For our main course, Stephen had lasagna, of course, for its cheese to noodle/meat/sauce ratio.
Keith had the five meat penne. Meat. Ummmmmmmm.
Em had a burger, no cheese and fries.
I had a small chicken Alfredo.
By this time I had so blown my eating regime that a bit of cream sauce wasn't going too far to tip the balance.
The real kicker, however, was when our waitress appeared with a tray of desserts.
Not plastic desserts, like at Boston Pizza.
But real desserts.
And on that try beckoned homemade carrot cake with cream cheese icing, New York cheesecake, Turtle cheesecake, strawberry pie, etc.
What a dirty trick!
Keith and I had the carrot cake.
Em and I had the Turtle cheesecake.
And you know this week, this month, the rest of his year actually, it'll be salad and water as I get rid of the five pounds I gained while on vacation.
It would have been ten had it not been for the hours and hours of beach walking.
At this point, the little things make a huge difference.
Post dinner plans were to see a movie.
But not all together.
THE only movie playing that Stephen hadn't seen and wouldn't keep him awake for the rest of his natural life was The Smurfs.
Admittedly, I kind of wanted to see it, having been a fan of the Smurfs when I was younger.
But I had absolutely no expectations regarding the quality of the film or it's story line.
And it was free so I didn't mind seeing it, but I would have never paid to see it.
Keith and Em wanted to see Don't Be Afraid of the Dark.
Even with Katie Holmes, it seemed to hold more promise than The Smurfs, but I wanted to spend time with Stephen so what we saw wasn't critically important.
Because I had NO expectations, it was better than I would have thought.
Always enhancing kid's movies is the theater soundtrack of actual kids.
Listening to them guffaw, belly laugh, chuckle is often better than the film itself.
Stephen smiled a couple of times.
I laughed.
Verdict: a success.
Title Lyric: Dear Mama by 2Pac
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