Meet The Smiths

Trip Start Jan 30, 2011
Trip End Nov 16, 2011

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Flag of Canada  , Ontario,
Thursday, June 30, 2011

An attempt at baking banana bread with carrots, which Mum assured me was a valid recipe, preceded the three of us meeting another relative on the old family tree, this time in the form of Peter, my great-grandfather's brother’s great-grandson; apparently that makes us cousins, three times removed, I think.

We weren’t sure how to set the oven to turn itself off, so Margaret and Daniel were on cake-watch to ensure the cake didn’t burn, although when I later found out I’d miscalculated the degrees when exchanging Celsius for Fahrenheit it’s amazing it wasn’t as dry as a leather slipper.  It had a chewy exterior, but overall the taste was good enough when masked with a little butter, but then again what isn’t better with that addition, apart from arteries?

We met Peter at Boston Pizza after Daniel and Margaret looked up the address and found out it wasn’t in the shopping centre we thought, but somewhere three tourists would easily get lost finding if ignorantly searching.  We waited at the table for Peter, to arrive, and watched as he walked in to greet Dad waiting eagerly at the door; not only was he tall, like our side of the clan, but he was confident enough to wear a bright pink shirt.  As he introduced himself and we chatted about the random web of blood that connects us all it slowly dawned on me how much he reminded me of my brother, from the way he talks to the way his eyes close when explaining something, he even does anything but work when at work in preparation for whatever’s happening outside of the job.  We all chatted for an hour before he had to disappear to a meeting in the hope that it wouldn’t keep him too long from his weekend escape to the cottage. 

Following our meeting we followed suit and got lost in Square One as we tried to navigate our way around the many shops, but we eventually managed to find our way back to the main entrance, stopping off for a quick scoop of Rolo ice-cream to keep us going through the short wait for Daniel to kindly collect us; the server commented on how much she liked my accent, and whilst I deferred the compliment with the fact that my cousin Margaret likes to mock the way I pronounce 'bucket’ and ‘Douglas’ it was nice to hear that she thought it was ‘elegant,’ but I swiftly moved on to enjoy my ice-cream to escape any unnecessary compliment. 

The five of us manipulated our way into the Audi to drive over to a nearby area called Oakville, where we had dinner at a lovely restaurant opposite the local library and arts centre; we sat outside directly in the line of the setting sun, so sunglasses were prevalent until nine when it finally dimmed to a manageable brightness.  I had wild boar gnocchi, which was delicious, and I like to think made tastier by thought of the wild boar Tatum Channing killed in the film ‘The Eagle’ last night. 

A cosy arrangement of Margaret, Mum, and me in the back of the Quattro led for a warm ride home before we all collapsed with smuggled Dairy Milk chocolate and watched the Royals’ visit to Canada. 
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Sunny dad on

Yes that was as we remember it,Daniel and me had plenty of room even with our fill of the very,very nice meal.You forget i have a medical condition.xx

philippajane86 on

Daniel and I, should it be? A very nice meal, a very nice car, and very nice company.

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