a streetcar named … Edmonton 33
We spent the weekend in Edmonton, visiting our granddaughter Kelly and her parents Brendan and Cristen. Although there’d been snow a few weeks ago and we brought warm jackets. even gloves, the sun shone, leaves fluttered in soft wind, and each day was filled with pleasure.
One really lovely thing was taking the restored Edmonton 33 streetcar
from Brendan and Cristen’s Strathcona neighbourhood over the High Level Bridge to downtown (and back). The streetcar is so beautifully restored and even the light bulbs are lovely.
Although one small boy thought John was the conductor (it was his ball cap…), the real conductor was full of information and made the little run over the bridge feel like a trip into Edmonton’s past, with details about the stage coach trips to Calgary in the 19th c.
There was a delicious brunch at Culina where Kelly slept in her sling while the rest of us ate Eggs Benedict and drank mimosas —
— a twilight drive (and walk) to the Whitemud ravine to watch the beavers in the colony there repair their dam and gnaw sticks:
and many stops for coffee on our walks:
One day I’m going to design a quilt based on the fields and rivers seen from airplanes, the dull golds and deep greens of a Canadian landscape in autumn, pastures shorn of their crops, the snow only a breath away, a quilt of velvets and wool to cover the distance a heart travels in a weekend.
Babies! Good weather! Beloved adult children! John! Lucky you 🙂
It was a sweet weekend. The baby kept smiling and I got to do a very granny-ish thing — walk her around the neighbourhood in a stroller. Sigh.
Brava, grandma. What joy.
It truly is, Beth. All the love and tenderness one felt for one’s own babies but none of the daily responsibility!