Erin's Journals

Hey there – hope your week’s going well so far. It’s been a week since Mike Cooper and I shared an hour with you via webinar. I wanted to update you on cabin availabilities and so on, just to keep this top of mind in case you’re considering joining us for a magical week (plus land tours, which I think Rob and I are going to do, and maybe Mike, too) river cruising from Switzerland to the Netherlands. As our host Gerry Koolhof of New Wave Travel put it, with ocean cruising you go to a country, but with river cruising you go through a country.
 
A reminder that if you book before June 30 (which is a Sunday – so better you should do it by Friday) you’ll get an added bonus of pre-paid gratuities ($185 per person) plus a $200 CDN on-board credit (per stateroom based on double occupancy). I won’t go on with details and prices; you can find out all you need to know about the trip in October 2020 here. 
 
See, the whole reason I’m nudging on this is that we REALLY want to take over the entire boat with just our group. So far, we’re about one-third to one-half booked and that’s terrific! But if we get the whole boat, that way we can stage more than one dance of our own, Mike and I can have the run of the dining room in terms of visiting tables, etc. and we can just make it one big (old) school trip, if you will! Once you’ve looked at the itinerary etc. just email Gerry. He’s a sweet guy whom Rob and I have known and dealt with for about a decade. 
 
That’s all I’ll say for now. I was just reminded to mention it by Jann Arden’s Instagram photos of the riverboat cruise she’s on in Europe with fans/guests. I hope they got their whole boat too – and that she’s having as much fun as her guests undoubtedly are.
 
Rob and I are off for a musical adventure of our own tomorrow and I’ll fill you in then. 
 
Meantime, I’ve entered the world of home assistants. No, I’m not firing Rob; we found a great deal on Google Home last week and bought one for the bedroom and one for the living room. I think – like any new device – it’s going to be up to us to find uses for it, other than asking her what the weather is.
 
We play music on it, like soft meditation music or smooth jazz, but more often I’ll get it to tune in my favourite radio stations, Ocean 98.5 here in Victoria (without the static that used to accompany listening to it – stupid transmitter rules!) and 680 News in Toronto. That may sound strange to you, but I like hearing friends like Paul Cook and Steve Roberts. Plus it’s kind of comforting in its way to listen to “cottage country traffic on the nines” or hear how the 404 is moving.
 
I’ve had a few people ask, “Well, aren’t you worried they’re listening to you?” and frankly, I’m not concerned at all. For one thing, I have nothing to hide from anyone and if Google, his pal Alexa or any of the other home devices out there want to listen in on me, feel free. I figure we’re giving away information about ourselves every moment, so one more portal isn’t going to break me.
 
One guide to privacy quotes someone at Symantec (a cyber security company) as saying, “If you’re talking about your plans to take over the world, as you do every night, there’s a physical button to mute.” (Both Google Home and Alexa have that mute button.)
 

 
But I AM hoping she’s listening once in a while – like when I use a tool called “broadcast.” You say “Hey Google,” or “OK Google” to get her attention, and then tell her what you want the household to hear. For some, that means, “It’s time for dinner, everybody…” or “Someone had better walk the dog,” or a message like that. For me, as it was yesterday morning, it was, “Hey Google….broadcast ‘I’m ready for my coffee, Rob.'” She did, he laughed from the living room and, yes, I got my coffee, after he messaged me back with a few choice words!
 
As I say, it’s going to be all about making the most of this device. I do love the radio aspect (I think this is a bigger game changer than satellite radio, quite honestly) and the fact that I can ask Google to play me Terry O’Reilly’s latest podcast – or any podcast for that matter.
 
Hmmmm…maybe I’ll get into this podcast thing after all…we’ll see. 
 
Back with you tomorrow on our midweek travel adventure! 
 

Welcome to these final days of June. What a treat it is to share summer with you!
 
It’s funny, having mentioned Bambi here last Friday, that today’s journal is a glorious look out the window, in words (and pictures). Deer, one in bad shape, bunnies and, instead of skunks, of which we have none, a few captivating raccoons have filled the last few days with adventure and appreciation.
 
As I’ve told you, our move to the Victoria area (we’re in North Saanich, overlooking Victoria International Airport) was, in part, to help us to heal. Little could I have imagined how taken I’d be, not just with the scenery and the way it envelops you in peace and perspective, but in the little dramas that play out in our own backyard. I’d be lying if I said I’m not drawn to our expansive windows about 20 times a day, just to see if “our” deer are here. You’ll see them in a moment.
 
Yesterday I learned that our raccoons look much different from those enormous brown, black and beige trash pandas that inhabit Toronto and environs: ours are small, grey and white, with accents of black (their masks) and a much more timid demeanor than their urban cousins down east. Interestingly, BC raccoons are said not to carry rabies, unlike their kin. I plan not to test that bit of information personally.
 
After hearing a squealing and rustle in the bushes, I tiptoed out onto a deck and stood still enough to witness a pair of bandits sneaking across the width of our yard to have a nice meal of two corn cobs we’d tossed below for whatever critter wanted them. (This photo – not of our raccoons – is from the Delta Optimist.)
 

 
I shouldn’t go outside when I hear squealing; it can’t be a good thing. Has the tiny rabbit we see nibbling grass come to harm? Is a quail family being picked off by the neighbourhood cats again? I keep reminding myself that nature isn’t cruel, it’s just indifferent and, well, natural, but I can’t help myself from worrying about the more vulnerable inhabitants of our tiny corner of the world.
 
Take this fellow. I’ve watched him enough to see little budding antlers and I wonder if he’ll have a chance to live long enough for them to grow fully. You see, his back left leg is lame. 
 

 
For well over a month now, when he makes his way through our yard, sometimes stopping to rest in a quiet corner, that leg is lifted and never is serious pressure put upon it. Was he attacked, I wonder, hit by a car traveling too quickly through our neighbourhood, or hurt while jumping a fence or rock wall? I can’t say. I do know that we cannot call any agencies for help for him unless he’s dead. And that’s life, too. I have a little video of him if you’d like to watch. He looks mangy and thin and I wonder what will become of him….
 

 
And finally, one of the nicest natural surprises we’ve had here: a pair of fawns. They and their momma came by for a visit last week and it made our day. Now you know why I’m always taking the long way to the kitchen: there’s a show right below us and I don’t want to miss a moment – even when they’re en route to our neighbour’s yard!
 

 
Have a lovely week and I’ll be back here with you tomorrow.
 

First of all, happy summer! I hope that this season brings to you all that you’ve awaited during the winter and spring months. Of course, for some parts of the country, this season got an early start; for others, it’s yet to kick into high gear. But my hopes for you are lots of great memory-making. My best memories are in the hazy glazed backdrop of summer.
 
This is also a day to kick off a huge movie weekend with the return of a film franchise that has been a part of our little family’s life almost as surely as if it was planned to run alongside our history.
 

  

When the first Toy Story came out, it was 1995. Our little Lauren was just over four years old and we’re almost certain it was her first theatre excursion. Then, of course, we waited for the DVD to come out and devoured it again. And again. “You are a sad, strange little man,” a line from Buzz Lightyear to Woody when Buzz thought Woody was out to get him, was repeated many times in our household as the years went on – usually to Rob or to our little dog Pepper.
 
In 1999, Lauren was 8 years old and she, her daddy and I excitedly went to the theatre to see Toy Story 2 together. Woody got a girlfriend and we were introduced to a dastardly miner voiced by Cheers and Frasier star Kelsey Grammer. It was a delight and not the least bit disappointing after the magic of Pixar’s first Toy Story offering.
 
Then came Toy Story 3: the film to end the franchise (or so we thought) and how perfect it was! We waited 11 years for this story as little Andy Davis grew up and gave his toys away. I wept big wet tears that rolled from my eyes, down the back of my wrist and onto the cushioned armrest, as the story so perfectly echoed in June 2010 what was happening in our lives: Lauren moving out of our Toronto condo to start her education and her grownup life in Ottawa. The parallels were so strong that the film always held a very special place in our hearts.
 
When Lauren died five years later, another door closed: we were pretty sure that we could never watch Toy Story or any of its franchise again. The desperately sweet memories that we associated with the film and its characters, the joyful moments we’d relive with our daughter that came from the movie, like the tea parties with Daddy modeled after the ones to which Andy’s little sister subjected Buzz Lightyear, were just too close to our broken hearts.
 
So here’s the thing: I was dead set against going to see this newest version, Toy Story 4. Why would I put myself through that? (In fact, that’s the question Rob asked when he returned to our airplane seats in April to find me with tears rolling down my cheeks as I watched Disney’s Bambi, a film for which Lauren knew all of the songs and that we’d watched endlessly when she was a toddler. It’s why her nickname, like that of the skunk in the film, was Flower.)
 

 
But now I’m reading that TS4 is getting 100% positive reviews on Rotten Tomatoes. It’s earning raves all-around. Do I dare? Do we dare? And why would we – just to sit and cry or to laugh and remember – or do both? Oh dear….
 
With the exception of that soggy moment in the skies a while back, I haven’t cried in so long that I worry I’ve shut down in some ways. In sharing messages of reclaiming joy, as I have done in the past four months since the release of Mourning Has Broken, have I intentionally tucked away the pain – and do I want to reopen that door?
 
I promised to give Brooke and Phil our Toy Story DVD set and forgot when I was visiting this month, but will in October. I think Colin’s going to love the adventures of Woody, Buzz, Mr. Potato Head, Bo and so many of the Toy Story gang just as much as we did. And, oh yes, like Lauren was the first time she saw the film, Colin is four years old. Seems fitting; after all, these were the stories – the Toy Storys – of our lives.
 

Looking for something to do this weekend, or perhaps in weeks to come? I wanted to share with you some thoughts on a movie Rob and I saw last week – before I tell you tomorrow about a film coming out that we will never be able to watch and why.
 

  
Rocketman is a fantasy directed by Dexter Fletcher, whose last credit was taking over the director’s duties on another little biopic you may have heard of called Bohemian Rhapsody. Like BH, Rocketman is based on an almost-incredible real life: this, of one Reginald Dwight, better known as Elton John. 
 
The movie grabs you from the outset. An enormous, costumed demon/god of a man storms through a series of hallways and doors in slo-mo, on the way to group therapy, which brilliantly provides the means for all of the film’s exposition. What got me right away, though, were not the sights so much as the sounds: the music of Elton John in a dreamy yet explosive score captures your attention immediately. While watching the film’s credits, we learned the reason for that.
 
The man behind putting Elton’s expansive and gold-dust-sprinkled musical catalogue to film was none other than Giles Martin. Giles is the son of oft-nicknamed “Fifth Beatle” producer/collaborator Sir George Martin. Giles and his now-late father collaborated on Beatles LOVE, the innovative and positively extraordinary re-imagining and remixing of the Fab Four’s hits that is the soundtrack for the Las Vegas show of the same name. (If you haven’t heard this album and are a Beatles fan, I cannot urge you strongly enough to download it. Now. Like, right now. Just come back when you have.)
 
So, the film is gifted with the musical pedigree of Elton John (played perfectly by Taron Egerton) and his mega-hit-writing partner Bernie Taupin (beautifully portrayed by Billy Elliot‘s lovely Jamie Bell), plus aforementioned producing royalty Giles Martin. Even if the story wasn’t gripping, gritty and well-told, you’d have a winner from the get-go. But the fact is, it’s a good film. A really good film.
 
We’d see it again, as it ended too soon for our liking and – spoiler alert – it has Smash! Broadway! Hit! written all over it. No doubt, Elton and his husband David Furnish have already taken steps towards bringing Rocketman to the Great White Way and London’s West End. They could only hope to find someone as talented as Taron Egerton, who not only acted, but also SANG (and danced) his part. For real.
 
Rocketman is well worth the price of admission. I couldn’t help but marvel how incredible it is that, after the years of overindulging and self-harm, this man is, to quote a song title, still standing. 
 
One caveat: this film is fantastical in many ways. In making it, they didn’t follow an exact chronology of Elton’s music. So if you hear a song from the 80s in a scene set in the 70s, just park your disbelief and go with the flow. Enjoy it for the frothy, furious ride it is. 
 
And what did Sir Elton think of this brutally honest portrayal of his life, tantrums, tiaras, OD’s, family drama and all? Tellingly, he and David co-produced the film so, yes, it had his seal of approval. A brief few slides at the end of the movie show their beautiful family (including two young sons) as well as updates on the monies he’s raised for charity and how long he’s been sober. Thanks to the amazing music he’s given us, Rocketman reminds us how wonderful life is while Elton’s in the world. 
 
Back tomorrow with the movie that will likely bend or break some box office records this weekend, but to which we definitely won’t be going. For all of the best reasons, I hope.
 

Summer arrives this Friday and, with it, the prospect of a little more outdoor entertaining. Last weekend, Rob and I were invited to a Rotary Club “friendship dinner,” wherein we meet up at a Rotary member’s house for dinner, bringing one of the courses with us. I chose appetizers.
 
Last year I showed you here my adventures in appies, with the tiny caprese salads: cherry tomatoes cut in half like a little hamburger bun, a slice of bocconcini cheese inside, a bit of basil and a drop of thick, syrupy balsamic vinegar.
 

 
I repeated that success with Saturday’s dinner offerings, but decided to try something else as well. If you thought that making those little tomato appetizers was fiddly, oh, honey – you ain’t seen nothing yet!
 
Perhaps unwisely, I wanted to experiment. (Who in their right mind does that when you don’t know your audience?) Anyway, I chose to make deviled eggs, but with a twist: instead of chicken eggs, I made deviled quail eggs! First, we bought the eggs.
 

 
We found them at our local Fairway Market, which, along with regular grocery offerings, specializes in imported and Asian items. Those 24 quail eggs with their beautifully camouflaged shells cost just $5.99! I was amazed, thinking they were going to be upwards of $20. We boiled them for about 10 minutes, then peeled them. 
 

 
A bit of a thicker membrane (and thinner white) meant we lost a few in the process; they were still yummy to eat, just exactly like a chicken egg, but wouldn’t have looked nice deviled.
 

 
I gently prodded the yolks out of their white casings (most just plopped into the bowl) and proceeded to have fun with spices and flavours. I put in a bit of Asian five spice, some paprika, dill pickle juice, a bit of curry, some garlic, salt, mayo, dijon and honey mustards, white pepper and – the pièce de résistance – Sriracha sauce! This chili sauce will turn the yellow yolk mixture just a little bit pink but, oh, it’s worth it for that nice slow heat that shows up in your mouth. And no, I don’t measure anything…that’s how I love to cook. Just go by flavours.
 
Then comes the fiddly part. Now, please know that I had dedicated a few hours to this anyway, so I loved putting on a Terry O’Reilly “Under the Influence” podcast and just listening while I put these little guys together. Rob had barbecued some bacon earlier in the day, then crumbled it with a hammer so I’d have tiny pieces to work with. A few slices of green onion, some finely shredded old cheddar and away we went.
 

 
Once they were all done, we just had to cross our fingers and hope that having one platter resting upside down on top of the serving plate would keep these little guys from sliding around. (I could’ve used some yolk mix to affix them to the plate, I’m sure, but we decided to take our chances.)
 
Here’s how they showed up at our hosts’ house. We were driving like we were carrying nitro glycerin the entire way there, but they arrived beautifully!
 

 
So there you go – deviled quail eggs that were enjoyed by all. The reaction to people seeing these teeny tiny appies was worth everything. If you’re looking for a project for some younger visitors, this would be a great one, especially if they love spending time with you in the kitchen.