Had a really enjoyable spontaneous day out with Mom yesterday. We headed out niagara way with no real destination in mind (besides the Tim Horton's to fill our coffee mugs as quickly as possible.) Niagara is an area lined with countless vineyards/independent wine makers. Row upon row of vines line the fields on both sides of the road. It really is an amazing sight, everything so perfectly trimmed with streamers blowing in the breeze (to keep the birds from snacking on the various grapes) It's clear that it's a big job keeping everything in line (literally) and trying to ensure ideal growing conditions. It is all so unpredictable. Anyway, the fields seemed to be in great shape and once again, we stumbled upon a day park that we found by accident last year. A little gem with tall trees, picnic tables, and cool crystal waters. (Lake Ontario) So pretty. The benches that line the waterfront path are all dedicated in memory of loved ones (right down to each plank on a wooden deck that spans part of the boardwalk) People haul out their portable barbeques (wish we'd done this) and the smell of grilling burgers fills the air along with kids laughing/playing on the nearby playground.
Mom and I made use of our portable Scrabble game as she kicked my butt in a big way (no doubt punishment for actually beating her for the first time in years during our last contest.) Right beside us was an
older couple, sitting in lawn chairs, their bare feet propped up together on one side of a picnic table, each reading a book but still carrying on snatches of conversation It was so cute watching them together, moving almost in tadem, clearly, still madly in love.
Mom and I cheated and split a sub. Not our usual picnic fare, but easy, which is what we were going for this time. The fruit stands on the way back proved too expensive to buy anything (I believe in supporting local farmers, but I won't pay twice the price of the supermarkets for baskets that aren't filled to the brim.). . So, we passed on the produce and went to visit my Grandfather's grave.
We don't do it often (both Mom and I don't care for graveyards, why visit him there when he is constantly in my dreams?) Anyway, imagine our surprise when we found half a baseball stuck onto the gravestone.My cousin had mentioned something about keeping half of a baseball while "grandpa had the other half" but I had no idea what he was talking about other than wondering where the heck he got the baseball. Anyway, turns out, half of it is now permanently stuck in stone. Talk about tacky, it looks awful. I don't know who's idea it was, but whoever made the decison should have asked the other siblings (there are six in total) before they altered the headstone. I mean, my grandfather loved baseball but he loved all sports, he was an athlete. I love animals, it doesn't mean I want a big horse head sticking out to commemorate my final resting place. Yuck. And the idea that no one else even had a vote? That's worse. It's a good thing I don't visit often, because I can tell you with absolute certainty that I would eventually want to rip it out with my bare hands and start taking names about who did what and when. Again, seriously tacky.
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