My perfect weekend requires culture, sports, friend time, family time, and the always valuable me-all-to-myself time. Also chips. And maybe a small glass of wine. And a road trip. It has to be a perfect storm of scheduled events and spontaneous adventures. Last weekend was perfect.
Friday night started off with a dear friend and I sitting in the Wellington County road department’s salt barn – in summer known as the Gambrel Barn – for the opening night gala of the Elora Festival. It was spectacular. If musical transcendence is possible, I experienced it. The acoustics of the cone shaped building enhanced the incredible harmony of the voices of the Elora Singers and the State Choir LATVIJA, backed up by exceptional musicians. When the singers were arranged throughout the audience to create a real surround-sound effect, it was one of the most beautiful musical experiences I’ve witnessed.
I’ll be honest, I didn’t know the music of “Carmina Burana” so I had no idea what I was listening to for the entire second half. Didn’t care. An open mind, open ears and a willingness to feel the music was enough to make me grateful.
The next morning, my daughter and I headed to Toronto to see the Mirvish production of Waitress. This was my girl’s graduation present from my parents, so really, my daughter could have chosen any date. She picked me. (I have a credit card. I’m not totally fooled by her sweetness). Alas, we got a road trip, a train ride and two front-row seats in the mezzanine. The musical was whimsical, uplifting and total escapism. Loved it. Watching my daughter love it made the whole day worthwhile.
But wandering around the big city after the show, completely anonymous, with no schedule, filled my soul. The city is alive. The pulse of the traffic. The sounds. The migration of crowds at every intersection. Architecture and art. Diversity everywhere. Watching my small-town girl appreciate the multicultural landscape makes our excursions to explore Toronto not only fun, but important. But when our train rolls out of the city, we are grateful to be heading back to the country roads that wind through Erin and Guelph-Eramosa to our home in Centre Wellington. Windows down. Tunes up. Country air. Sunset. Home.
Sunday was rugby day with my son. There must be something wrong with me (avoid the obvious punchline), but I do love to watch him play this brutal sport. I respect what it is teaching him about sport, teamwork and responsibility. His team played a UK touring team and because rugby is to them what hockey is to us, they pummelled us on the ground and the scoreboard. Best part? No fights. No rabid parents heckling refs. And the lads line up and shake hands when it’s done and then go to the clubhouse for lunch. Everything stays on the field, where it belongs. Great life lesson.
Alone time was spent running errands, but I took the long way to every destination and cherished the drive. Sunday ended watching a movie with the Carpenter. Comfortable silence. Kicking back. Sweet. Perfect balance achieved.
It’s possible if you pay attention to the moments and you appreciate them as they come.
