Canada. Coffee. Cousins. Cats.

Son spent a couple of days with us old people at the start of Easter. I quite liked the idea of seeing him, because it had been a while. And I had some jobs for him to do.

When we saw him here last time he was on his way to Germany. Since then he has travelled like it’s going out of fashion, and he was barely back from Canada this time. And I was disappointed to find that no one in that huge country had said ‘thank you kindly.’ I’d been led to believe they did. Also that they wear funny red coats.

Anyway, the Resident IT Consultant has an aunt and an uncle in Canada, and three cousins, who in turn have a husband each and something like seven second cousins of similar ages to Son. Some of them he had met over here, but most not. Super Cousin C was marvellous and arranged for Son to meet almost every single Canadian relative.

So, when he got home we were wanting to see his photos from the trip. We saw the photos, all right. Didn’t see much in the way of Canadian family members.

There were pictures of coffees and coffeeshops. Pictures of plates of food; breakfast, lunch, dinner. Canada Geese. Photos of buses and trains and planes and trams and boats and underground trains. Stations and airports.

Very nice photo of the large main library in Hamilton. Niagara Falls. Beautiful beaches. The view from the window at his friend’s flat. Several times.

And from the trip to visit family there were cats. Lots of them. There were dogs, too. Not quite as many. A photo of an air-conditioning unit in in Cousin C’s garage. The bar his second cousin took him to. Next to one dog we could see a leg and an arm, which might belong to Cousin Dahlia. The carpet-covered cat climbing tree at one house. And to be fair, Cousin C and her father appeared in the distance in a couple of the pictures.

Canadian breakfast

It’s a beautiful country. And it has family in it, somewhere.

But mostly cats and coffee.

2 responses to “Canada. Coffee. Cousins. Cats.

  1. At last you got to see SOMETHING. Second born son has totally vanishedinto the wilds of Melbourne. My only chance to see him is when I hack into his Facebook account.

  2. Pingback: Kanada bound | Bookwitch

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