Canadian curiosities

Now that we're safely back on the U.S. side of the border, I have to question a few of the things we saw. For instance, what does this sign mean?

Beware of person with detachable hand?
Beware of person bowling? Playing basketball?
And did I mention the sign was posted in the middle of nowhere? On a lengthy dirt road that led to the amethyst mine?

Something else I noticed: what is wrong with this picture?

Notice that the drain is at the front of the toilet?

Kind of different, eh?

Cool store, eh?

The reason behind our trip across the border was for Jeff to participate in a parade and ceremony on Sunday in observance of Canada's Law Enforcement Memorial Day. He's been taking part in the event for years, and this time we decided to join him and turn it into a long weekend vacation for the family.

And then something happened. It rained. More accurately, it poured. Really, really hard.

Jeff and his fellow officers still took part, but I, fair-weather parade goer that I am, decided the kids and I would rather stay dry. My heart goes out to the families of these fallen officers, but I suspect they'd understand my decision.

We did make it to the reception that followed, where AJ not only got to meet a real, live Mounty; he also got to try on his hat. Imagine if he was old enough to watch Dudley Do-Right.

So what did we do with our couple hours of unexpected free time on Sunday? We just happened to discover the coolest toy store ever. Talk about a best-kept secret: the store's name was
Auto*Tool*Toy Sense. Now, I can understand lumping automotive and tools into one store, but toys? It's not the most natural brand extension, but definitely a fun place. It easily had the largest selection of Playmobil toys I've ever seen, plus a large play area for test drives - literally.

Note the Thomas Train engine in the background. The kids had fun climbing inside and pushing buttons to make whistle and horn sounds.

That is, when they weren't playing with the smaller train set, or the doll house, or the mini-construction site. In the photo below, Sydney had been guiding the train around the track, saying, "Choo, choo, choo... crash."

I'd hoped to take a second trip to the store this morning before we left Canada, so that Jeff could see what the kids and I were talking about. Unfortunately, a powerful wind storm knocked out power to a good chunk of Thunder Bay, including our motel, so we packed up and headed home.

AJ, ever the optimist, found a bright side. "Hey, the rain washed the dirt away on our car. Thanks, God!" And if you ask him what his favorite part of Canada was, he'll tell you it was the Thomas Train store.

A taste of the good life

We'd heard that our hotel offered a pretty impressive Sunday brunch buffet, and so decided to check it out. After a 20-minute wait for a table, we were seated... only to discover that our hotel has two restaurants, and of course we were in the wrong one.

We left, and at last found the right spot, where we were greeted with, "You don't have a reservation?" Thankfully, they squeezed us in pretty quickly.

Yes, it was impressive: ice swan sculpture, guy playing a grand piano, juice served in cocktail glasses. And we were there with two small kids.

Once AJ got past the shock of "I get a glass like this?", he warmed quite quickly to experiencing how the other half lives.


Salmon prepared two different ways, plus steamed mussels, and marshmallows dipped in a chocolate fondue fountain. AJ proclaimed, "This is the goodest restaurant I've ever seen!"

Sydney was a little less impressed with her surroundings. Though she somehow managed to force herself to dip her grapes in the chocolate fondue.

We followed that up with dinner at Montana's. After all, nothing says authentic Canadian dining like a restaurant named Montana's. And what an appropriate culinary bookend, considering our first meal in the Great White North was at a restaurant named Boston Pizza.

Montana's was nothing special. The food was so-so, and the service was slow. The most memorable part of the meal was the role playing that took place at the table. Thanks to the discovery of a really cool toy shop, which I'll write about at a later date, the kids were freshly equipped with some fun Playmobil toys. AJ had knights, and Sydney had a mommy, four kids and a stroller. Eventually, the two worlds collided, with AJ's knights returning home from work to play with the brothers and sisters in Sydney's family. I love how their minds work.

Wait! I thought of another nice thing to say about Montana's. They do take Visa.

Canada - day 2

I believe the tagline for Visa is something like "It's everywhere you want to be." So I guess that means we don't want to be at Tim Horton's in Thunder Bay. Would have been nice to learn that before we racked up a $16 breakfast tab. They also don't take Discover card. Luckily, they do take U.S. currency.

So with the last of our cash gone, we had little choice but send the kids to work in the mines.

Today we toured Thunder Bay's amethyst mine, apparently the largest working amethyst mine in Canada, and possibly in all of North America. (The tour guide told us that twice.)

We also met "the Amethyst King". I've forgotten his name, which is probably good, because I don't have particularly nice things to say about him. Hanging on the wall of the mine's gift shop, is a framed magazine article that anointed him with this royal title. We, meanwhile, had already dubbed him the Amethyst Nazi. (Think of Seinfeld's Soup Nazi, and you'll get an idea of this guy's sense of customer service.) Whatever you do, don't touch anything. If you drop your camera lens cover, don't bend over to pick it up, because he'll think you're reaching for amethyst, and he'll yell at you. And if you arrive late and miss the repeated warnings, don't pick up a piece of amethyst, because he'll yell at you. And if his yelling scares you, don't drop the amethyst in fear, because he'll yell at you for that too. Did I mention the guy is about 80? Charming old gent. (And no, we were not the ones he was yelling at.)

Thankfully, the tour of the restricted section came to an end, so we at last got to do what we'd come for – look for our own amethyst. I wouldn't call myself a rock hound, but as someone who's been hunting agates since I was my kids' ages, this was pretty cool stuff...

... though probably not the best example of responsible parenting. Here kids, take these pointy metal rods and go play on the loose rock that's extra treacherous because of all the hoses and running water used to help with excavating.

So we improvised. Sydney was put in charge of watching our treasures.

AJ, meanwhile, lost interest after a short time. So we put him to work searching for dinosaur bones instead. I suppose someday we'll have to tell him the truth about those special white rocks he found.

We left with a little over two pounds of treasures. I just might have to try this again someday.

Oh Canada!

We've made it to Thunder Bay. The trip went quite well: it was a gorgeous drive and the kids were good and patient travelers. (It helped that Sydney napped from roughly Two Harbor to Grand Marais.)

We got a slightly later start than we wanted to, and so decided to hit a drive thru for lunch, rather than take additional time to make a meal at home. That set Sydney off: "No go McDonald's! I go Canada!"

When we reached our hotel, we discovered that the Valhalla Inn is NOT the hotel with the cool water park. It has a nice enough pool area, but the water is cold. AJ braved the water with Daddy, but Sydney decided a pool side chair was close enough.


Here's what else we've learned: nothing is complimentary on this side of the border. You need a room key just to get to the hotel's ice machine. And you better bring re-useable bags to the grocery store, otherwise they'll charge you a nickel per bag, and they'll delay you by a few seconds... seconds you'll realize in the next paragraph may have been crucial.

We've also learned that liquor stores here close at 9:30 p.m. And the one we tried to give our business to apparently locks up at 9:27. (I discovered that at 9:28.) As we drove back to the motel, AJ explained to Sydney why I was irritated. "Mommy wanted licorice."

Oh Canada!

The Last Supper (at Gordy's)

The awesome temperatures of the last few weeks have allowed us to pretend that summer is still here, and that the potential for a blizzard isn't just a mere month out. But if the shorter days didn't give it away, then here's a just-no-denying-it sign that fall is here.

Gordy's Hi-Hat (sniff, sniff) is closing for the season.

So of course we had to journey to this holy land in Cloquet for one final memory-making meal: one final tray of Gordy's legendary, though artery-clogging, hand-pattied cheeseburgers and home-made onion rings.


One last chance to try and convince Daddy to: "Hey, look over there!" so you can grab something from his plate. (Never mind that the subject of this sentence couldn't finish what was on his own plate. It's always more fun to sample Daddy's.)

One last chance to goof around on the tables on the outside deck when you're too full to eat anymore but have to wait patiently for everyone to finish before crossing the parking lot to the playground.

One last chance to cozy up to Daddy when you realize he has a chocolate shake, and then to dribble some of that shake on his shorts.


Lucky for us, the final part of our tradition - tacking on a couple thousand more calories in the form of ice cream goodies at the adjoining Gordy's Warming House while the kids run around the playground - can continue. That part of the business stays open year 'round.

But to the greasy food and quaint atmosphere, and to Gordy himself who, at age 82, still stands behind the counter taking orders, we say, "Thanks for another summer of memories. See ya next year!"

Late night inspiration

The creative process at work, in theory, allows at least a few days to just think about a project because often the best ideas come to you when you least expect it: in the shower, while driving, washing dishes, etc.

In the case of this blog, my inspiration sometimes comes in the middle of the night. Because that's when these two wake up.

Two nights in a row. Sort of a 'which came first, the chicken or the egg?' situation. Who woke up whom? Tuesday night it was Sydney's cries that woke me first. Just as I was reaching her room, I heard AJ's frantic calls, "I have to go potty!"

"By all means, get up and go!"

Last night (early this morning, to be more exact) Sydney's cries again woke me. I got to her room and crawled into her bed to quiet her. And that's when I heard a loud cough, followed by the somewhat clumsy sounds of AJ hurriedly climbing from bed.

"I have to wash my hands!" AJ shouted, to no one in particular.

Yes, my child who is too scared to climb out of bed in a dark room when he has to go to the bathroom, feels a far greater sense of urgency to wash his hands after coughing into them. I quietly climbed from Sydney's bed to see if AJ needed any help. No, by the time I got into the bathroom, he was standing on a stool, with water running, carefully rubbing soap over every finger.

Ever since news broke last spring of the Swine Flu epidemic, I've figured it's not a question of if, but when we'll be dealing with this virus at our house. With AJ going to two different preschools starting in a few weeks, he'll be exposed to two different sets of kids and all the germs that go with them.

But perhaps I can rethink that. It is AJ after all. With him and his obsessive germaphobic tendencies, I think the H and N in H1N1 could stand for "Heck no!"