International Dining

One of the cool things about Buffalo is how close it is to Canada. So near, in fact, that Heidi's family's favorite Chinese place is in Fort Erie, just over the Peace Bridge, and their go-to beach, Shirkston, was on the Canadian shore of Lake Erie. It used to be nothing to cross the border back and forth; people regularly lived in one country and worked in the other.  All that easy access changed, first after the attacks on September 11, 2001, and then again during the COVID shutdowns and these days, traveling between the U.S. and Canada can be much more complicated than before. 

But not always. Last night, the four of us drove to Niagara Falls, Canada, to have dinner at Swiss Chalet. This Canadian chain is known for its rotisserie chicken and proprietary sauce (not sure where the Swiss connection comes in). There used to be a few outlets here in the States, but more than a decade ago, they packed up their roasting spits and moved back home. 

Some of Heidi's family has been mourning the loss ever since, and they are more than willing to make the trip to enjoy a favorite meal. And that's how we found ourselves rolling through Canada last evening. The light was golden as we crossed the Niagara River, and immigration and customs were quick and polite. Before long, we were driving to a Canadian strip mall, so like those in our nation, and yet so different. There was no question we were in another country, and that was cool.

The chicken? Was dry, and the sauce, heavy on the allspice, was not to my taste at all.  But the Molson on tap was cold, and I would go again any time, both for the good of the group and the excitement of being somewhere else.

Have You Met Me?

At last, the heat has broken, and today dawned clear, cool, and sunny—all the things we have come to love about Buffalo summers. As I sit beneath the awning on the patio, a refreshing breeze passes through the trees, and the smell of fresh-cut grass wafts over the fence from next door. We took the dogs for a pleasant three-mile walk this morning, and I know I should relax, release my restlessness, and enjoy the downtime.

Yeah, that isn't happening.

Hot and Bothered

At 78 and recently widowed, Heid's mom seems very set in her ways, and when we visit, adjusting our schedule to match hers can be a challenge. The last time we were in Buffalo, my screen time doubled and it felt like I spent a lot of time sitting around waiting for the group. 

The heat wave that has blanketed the eastern half of the U.S. this week has only complicated that issue. Even this far north, it's been too hot to walk the dogs, play pickleball, visit Niagara Falls, or even sit outside and read. And today? It's raining.

There is always retail therapy, of course, but spending money as entertainment has become less appealing to me over the years. So what's a gal to do? 

Well, how about axe-throwing and mini-bowling? 

Never mind. That fell through.

Blazing

"I've got some audiobook ideas for our road trip," I told Heidi yesterday. "Let me read you the descriptions, and then you can pick." I skimmed through the title details and started to laugh.

"Do you want to hear a blazing novel of startling originality about the fragility and resilience of life in our universe?" I asked. 

"Or a blazing, unforgettable testament to what we owe each other in a changing world?" 

"Or maybe, as blazing and distinctive a performance as I've beheld in a long while... I'm amazed."

"Wow," she answered. "It's so hard to pick!"

Solstice

Last December, the shortest day of the year found us on the road to Buffalo. On that trip, the light turned blue around 4 pm, the sky blazed purple and orange a little while later, and holiday lights twinkled in the darkness the rest of the way. As we unpacked the car, a full strawberry moon rose in the east.

Today, the longest day of the year, found us back on the same road. This time, an early summer heat wave shimmered off the pavement, and the temperatures only dropped to 90 in the mountains, even after a quick thunderstorm. The sun shone golden and hot all the way, and it was still light long after we arrived at 7:30.

Gathering darkness, growing light-- there is so much to love in this world.

School's Out Forever

It was around 1:30 this afternoon when I flicked the three light switches down and closed the door on Room 275, which was, for the first time in 30 years, empty of my personal possessions. 

Of all the keys on the ring that I was about to turn in, my desk key gave me the most pause. That tiny piece of brass had been mine since August 1993, and when I cleaned out the drawers, I removed a few things that had been in there almost as long.

Empty room, empty desk... it really was time for me to go.

#riseandshineforbreakfast

Ever since she turned 55 in November, Heidi has been dying to order off the "55 and Over" menu at Denny's. I get it-- in 11 days, I'm planning to gleefully apply for my lifetime National Parks pass, a perk of making it to 62.

Anyway, Denny's is not a regular on our radar screen, and until yesterday, I had no idea where their nearest location was. But driving down a road we travel very often, my attention was drawn to a nondescript strip mall. "Remember when that was a Chilis?" I asked Heidi, pointing to a storefront. "It's a Denny's now."

Denny's!!! 

And so a plan was hatched. We would go for breakfast the very next day and Heidi would last be able to take advantage of her rightful privilege.

Except... 

It was a rather disappointing experience. Our friend Mary joined us, and the three of us agreed: the atmosphere was as expected; the service was terrible (we waited over 20 minutes for eggs and pancakes), and the food was not that good either. Even the 55 and over menu was limited and not much of a bargain.

There was a silver lining, though. We launched a little breakfast club. The three of us are going to check out all the morning meal options we can between now and August 19. Maybe you saw our first post on Instagram? If not, don't worry-- there will be other installments!