I flew home to Ontario for a few days. It was good to see family and spend some quality time in the house I grew up in. I don't get to visit as often as I would like so when I do, there are things I like to make certain I experience...
Mom and I always cook a meal together, shuffling around each other at the counter; me complaining about the quality of her knives and her patiently explaining, one more time, her secret Yorkshire pudding recipe. Then she lets me beat her at Scrabble and we plan some gardens. Dad and I discuss books and old western movies and wrangle about who starred in what film. I always learn something new, for instance I did not know that the late, great Gene Autry was the first cowboy to fight off aliens in the 1939 film 'The Phantom Empire.' Huh.
It was good to be home. I had missed sleeping in a house warmed by a wood stove and my Dad's horrible, horrible coffee. I had missed watching mom knit so fast her fingers blur and the sound of blue jays outside my window at dawn. I had missed snowshoeing along rolling hills and pick-up trucks filled with good ol' boys and dogs.
But most of all, most of all, I had missed cheap cheese.
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