Nolan's Race Car

Isn't this the cutest thing? I got it for Nolan and Nash at a yard sale on Saturday...$10 and in great condition. Wouldn't Dennis have loved it??

Feeling Old

It makes sense that you feel much older if you're in pain...and you look it, too. My knees have been giving me trouble for a few years now and I just hate how feeble I feel when I can't walk without pain. The left knee was hurting pretty badly, enough to send me to an orthopedic surgeon last year but he said it wasn't bad enough to require surgery. That made me feel like a whimp but that's okay. I is what I is!

All winter the left knee pain would come and go, mostly just twinges now and then but the right knee let me know it was there once in a while, too. A few weeks ago I did some yard work and it wasn't until I came inside that my right knee started screaming. And it screamed every day since then. Yesterday I took one anti-inflamatory pill and my right knee shut up.

I haven't been sleeping well for the past week and I know it was the knee pain that kept waking me up. Last night I took a Tylenol PM, slept for 9 straight hours and woke up feeling 10 years younger. My knee isn't hurting and I've had a good night's sleep.

I do consider myself lucky that my body has held out as well as it has since I never took care of it. If I had it to do over again, I would have realized that my body is what will carry me around all my life and I would have taken damn good care of it. The little I can do now won't erase the hardships I've put it through but it might carry me for a few more years yet. I really do love this time of my life and I just want to exist pain free as much as possible. My mind is at peace and my knees are behaving themselves so life is good!

The Bridesmaids

Kim and I went to see "The Bridesmaids" last night and I thought it was hilarious. Of course, there were lots of sex scenes which, although sometimes vulgar, just added to the hilarity of the film. It had me laughing enough that I wouldn't mind seeing it again.

I don't go to many movies anymore because it's hard for me to sit through anything boring or vicious. I used to love scary movies but they're so filled with blood and gore anymore and not really frightening at all, just stomach turning. So I by far prefer a movie that will make me laugh.

When I was a young girl, my friends and I would actually choose a Saturday movie where we knew there would be boys in the audience. We'd pay our 15-25 cents and enter what really was an architecturally beautiful theatre (the old ones were a work of art) and sit through the movie twice if we felt like it. The bonus was meeting up with some interesting boys while we were there.

I loved the old musicals and mysteries but my favorites were always the scariest ones. They were filled with anti-climaxes that had nothing to do with sex, just good acting and directing. The last movie that gave me that sort of thrill was "Jaws" but I've walked out on a few that resorted to using savagery and bloodshed to scare the audience.

Nowadays, I won't waste my time on a movie unless I'm assured that it will make me laugh. I like to leave the theatre with a smile on my face and a good feeling in my soul.

Re-organizing Nolan's Play Area

My driveway once ran all the way to the back wall of the house but quite a few years ago I got the idea to run a fence across the driveway from the front wall of the house. This gave me a nice area of the yard that was asphalted.

When my grandchildren were little I often put their pool there in the summer but that proved to be a little too hot for their bare feet when the sun shone on it. Then it became my potting area until the old patio table I used there was so rotten I had to dispose of it. It still held it's usefulness because at least my garbage cans couldn't be seen from the street. I also piled some cement blocks along one side in case I ever had a use for them. For the life of me, I can't remember where the heck I got all those cement blocks or what possible use I thought they might be but they're there and they're staying.

Nolan's play toys have been taking up space on the back patio against the deck but that meant there was no good place for me to store the not-in-use patio chairs. Not having a garage means a lot of stuff just gets left out in the elements.

So this morning I went out into that little fenced asphalt area and considered moving the cement blocks up against one end...until I saw all the wood bugs run out from between the cracks. I wasn't about to touch the darned things then. So I stood back and reconsidered my options.

First I pulled the garbage can and the garbage green cart away from the front of the area and dragged the table (a huge folding one that mysteriously appeared in my yard over the winter and I have no idea where it came from) and set it crossways in the driveway against the little fence. That left room in the corner for the broom and dustpan. I put all the possibly usable old flower pots under the table and the garbage can and green cart went against the far corner of the table.

I dragged flower pots from an inconvenient spot to settle nicely in front of a healthy Rose of Sharon that grows against the side fence. Then I repositioned the dock box inbetween the flowers and the cement blocks and put Nolan's toys inside. More potted plants had to be repositioned to allow Nolan's workbench to nestle safely under the lilac bush which I'd trimmed back at the bottom. It ended up looking pretty good and left lots of room for Nolan to ride his bike around on the asphalt which is safely protected by the fence I had long ago foreseen as a darned good idea.

I love it when I get to change things around and it turns out well.

Nolan Tired

The only time Nolan slows down and sits still long enough for me to get a good picture is when he's tired. Daddy Nick came to pick him up and I was able to get some great pictures of a sleepy Nolan with his Daddy.

When I was younger I don't think I ever thought beyond being a Grandmother and having Nolan has been like finding a second prize in the Cracker Jack box. He and his baby brother, Nash, are special gifts that I never even considered might come my way but I'm happy as pig in poo that they did.

I don't have the energy I did when his father was his age but I can still shower him with love and that's what is important.

Evening With Nolan

These are the best pictures I could get of Nolan while he was at play. The rest were either blurs or photos of him looking down and examining whatever he was playing with. Every time he'd look right at me with his beautiful little face I'd grab the camera but, by the time I was ready, he'd be gone.

The flowers are there just because they're pretty!

Fight or Flight

I have a strong fight or flight response to unpleasantness. It's about 95% flight with a weak 5% fight. I steer very clear of anything that might be unpleasant and live my life in a safe little bubble as much as I possibly can.

I hear stories of families with active and everlasting disagreements and I wonder how they can stand to be around each other. Apparently some people thrive on the excitement of conflict but I'm not one of them.

I find my excitement in situations where everyone is harmonious and having a good time, not bickering. If you'd known me years ago you wouldn't believe that because I bickered with my husband all of the time...he tended to ignore me but that was a huge part of the problem. I felt the only way to get his attention was to be confrontational. Stupid, right?

These days I have no-one I care to argue with and that's a great relief. Being in a state of anger and disharmony is a terrible drain on your strength and leaves very little room for true happiness. I'm not saying that my way of walking away from problem people is the right way but it is my way and has worked quite well for me for a long time.

My husband passed away almost 6 years ago and the last time he said something that would have had me fiercely retaliating was just before he passed away. My newly formed instinct was to retreat and gather my thoughts and that's what I did. It was the right thing to do. I'll probably never forget his words but I'll always be glad that I kept my mouth shut at that time.

I have so much in my life now that is positive and easy to live with so it's easy for me to run away when faced with unpleasantness. I just refuse to deal with it anymore. My daughter, Kim's, philosophy on life is to LIVE, LOVE, LAUGH and I agree completely. There's no place or time for unhappiness if we can avoid it at all.

Ontario Website for Registered Sex Offenders

I read in the newspaper this morning that Ontario is considering creating a website listing the names and addresses of registered sex offenders. At present, Alberta is the only province in Canada that has a website listing names and photos of registered sex offenders but it doesn't list their addresses.

Of course, there are naysayers who think this is a terrible invasion of the sex offenders privacy but who the hell cares? If you know that a sex offender lives nearby you will take more precautions. We all like to bury our heads in the sand and think that none of our neighbors could be convicted criminals but that's very unwise.

A case in point...my daughter lives in Florida where they do have a registered sex offender website and it does give the city or town where the offender lives. My daughter happened to check the site out one day and discovered that one of the men listed was the father of a friend of her young daughter. Suppose the little girl invited my granddaughter to a sleepover at her house and my daughter innocently let her go? This is the main reason why we need a website with information on sex offenders living in our area.

Sex offenders do have some rights but they shouldn't supercede the rights of the innocent. Citizens have a right to know who is unsafe to be around. Our children have a divine right to be protected at all costs. If a website upsets a registered sex offender then they should have exerted some self control and not offended in the first place.

I hope Ontario gains this website and I'll bet quite a few people will be surprised at who will be featured on it.

Weiner or Wiener

Does it really matter? New York state representative Wiener or Weiner (both spellings show up on internet searches) has disgraced himself and his party by sending sexually explicit photos of his private parts to young women acquaintances. I just don't understand how a man of his position could take the chance of public humiliation by doing such an utterly stupid thing. His career has just gone down the tubes because this very ugly man thought some women half his age would be thrilled to see pictures of his yoohoo.

Wiener (the name is so hilariously appropriate) joins the group of men known as flashers. These are men who are so proud of their yoohoo that they like to display it in public. I've always wondered what their motive is for doing this. Is it really misplaced pride in a private appendage or do they just get a big kick out of doing something socially unacceptable?

In any case, Wiener is now considered a ridiculous character who can never be taken seriously again. Not too promising for anyone but sure death for a politician.

Nick is 27

It seems that all my life I looked forward to being a grandmother. Being a mother held too many responsibilities but I just knew that when I was a grandmother it would be fun all the way...and it has been, mainly.

Kim and Brian tried for a couple of years to get pregnant without success and then one evening they came to our house for a visit. I can still see them sitting there all aglow and then came the words we'd waited so long to hear. They were pregnant. I cried with a happiness I didn't realize was so intense until I found out that my very first grandchild was on the way.

Nick was born on June 7, 1984 and weighed 11 lbs., 1 1/2 oz. Kim was an average sized woman but she had previously tried fertility drugs a while before becoming pregnant and I always said the Nick was really 2 babies wrapped in one. He was gorgeous from day 1. I loved him with all my heart from the moment he was born and that has never changed over the past 27 years. I will love him forever.

Becoming a grandmother never made me feel old but, if anything, younger at heart. I had a whole new little life to follow from babyhood to adulthood and Nick has been an exceptionally fine person every second of those years.

Nick is a father himself now, with 2 little sons, Nolan and Nash. Nolan looks just like his Daddy. So often, when I look at Nolan, it takes me back 25 years to when his father was the same age and I smile at the sweet memories. Yes, being a grandmother and now a greatgrandmother has brought me some of the best memories I hold dear.

Seven more grandchildren followed over the years and each holds a special place in my heart. There are no favorites because I love each and every one of them completely. I'm not sure they understand that...maybe Nick does now that he has children of his own, though. You don't love any one more than the others but always in slightly different ways. Each child is unique and so is your love for them.

My Nick is special because he was the first and he's continued to be special just because he's my Nicholas.

Dogs

I have 2 daughter with dogs that I love very much...my third daughter's dog is just a bit too wild for me. Dog owners really and truly love their dogs almost like children but with the understanding that these "children" will remain and be welcome to the death.

Shelley posted a picture of her dog, Buddy, on facebook and stated that she really, really loves him. He's the offspring of her 2 previous dogs who were both excellent pets and loved just as much as Buddy. Buddy's father, Monty, was an incredible yellow Lab with a gentle giant personality. Buddy's mother, Karina, came late to the family as an adoptee and she was one of the most gorgeous, almost white, yellow Labs. She, too, was a gentle soul but with a dignity that good old Monty didn't quite possess. So Buddy comes from good stock!

Kim's dog, Bailey, has always been one of my favorites because she is a real friend. Jack Russels aren't the best choice for anyone who wants a calm dog but Bailey only gets excited when a new person comes into the room. She's the epitome of a social animal. Bailey isn't her old self yet since her roommate, Baker passed away last week but she'll soon come around. Bailey is the kind of dog who will trail behind you and curl up at your feet no matter where you go. She shows her love every second of the day and I know this wonderful little dog will help Kim get over losing Baker.

Dogs have been called man's best friend and not without good reason. When we take them into our homes, we know it's for life and that they'll bond with us and be our companion as long as they live. As pets, cats can't compare. Cats are too independant whereas dogs want only to be by our side. It's impossible for a cat to learn it's place as an underling whereas a dog relishes being just that.

I almost believe that dogs were put on this earth just to be companions to man. It's as though this position was deliberately made for them, knowing how much pleasure it would give both of us. Whether this is true or not, I'm so thankful for Bailey and Buddy and all the wonderful dogs just like them. They've made our lives better by their presence.

Separate Schools

It really irks me that we allow separate schools in Canada. There should be only public schools where children of all faiths can come together and learn about each other. How better to promote understanding and acceptance?

In this city we have a Christian basketball league and also a Muslim one. Until recently the Muslim league was restricted to Muslims only. I have no idea who is allowed to join the Christian league. This sounds barbaric to me because religion is supposed to teach brotherly love and not "love your brother only if he practices the same religion that you do".

Wars are fought over religion. People who marry outside their faith are shunned. Isn't it time to bring people of all religions (or lack of) together outside of their church and stop this segregation that only causes misunderstanding and misconceptions? It makes me wonder how many more years or centuries or millenniums will pass beofre we are one people. Or will it never happen?

Religion is big business. It is to each religion's advantage to keep their followers separate because, if they're allowed to intermingle too much, they might get too many ideas. Intermingling just might make them open their minds and think for themselves. One of the things that turned me against organized religion was how you are encouraged to frown on any but your own.

I went to a public school as a child and if any of my classmates were other than Protestant, I didn't know or care. That's the way it should be and that's why we should not have separate schools. It only promotes further separation.

The Separate School Board in our city refused to allow their children to be bussed to school with public school children. It would have resulted in great monetary savings for the public tax payers because often children who lived on the same block were picked up by different buses. How frightening for children of different religions to be able to sit next to each other going to and from school!!

I've never understood the need for churches anyway. If you have a belief in god, why do you have to reach him through an intermediary? Is it the same god that is worshipped by religions other than your own? Why do we need separate religions if it is? And, if it is the same god, why do we need separate churches and separate schools? And why do different religions follow different rules? Could it be that each religion has been designed by man instead of god? A lot of questions, I know, but I'm not under the thumb of any religion and therefore my mind is open to wonder about inconsistencies.

I doubt very much that religion will lose it's power in the next few hundred years but the day will come, I hope, when we won't be separated by man made barriers and can co-habit with each other on equal footing. Church leaders are not going to make that easy.

Backing Up

I'm used to idiots who will drive past a car that's backing up towards them because they figure their car will protect them from injury but why, why, why do people casually walk past a backing up car? Yesterday I was in the grocery store parking lot and trying to back out and leave but it took forever because I had to back up by inches. People continued to stroll past me with no thought to the fact that a car driver can't have eyes everywhere.

A few years ago, a lady and her 13 year old daughter did just that in a store parking lot and a car backed over the girl and killed her. It angered me that even parents with babies in strollers were walking past my car as I was backing up. What are they thinking? My instincts when seeing a car trying to back out of a parking spot was to draw near to the side and pull my child against me so that there was no chance we'd be hit but these idiots deliberately put their children in danger. Remember it was a nervous old lady trying to back up and there's always a possibility of a driver accidently stepping on the gas instead of the brake when they are nervous.

I see this all the time but yesterday was my worst experience because it took me forever to pull clear of passing pedestrians. I try to find a spot where I can drive through to the facing parking spot so that I can just go forward when I'm leaving but that's not always available.

No matter how slowly I backed up, if an idiot walked behind my car and was hit, I'd be the one charged. Of course, the idiot could be killed...legally in the right but still dead.

Saturday Morning

It's Saturday morning and the skies are seriously darkening as I type. This is the time I like to watch home improvement shows on T.V. but none seem to interest me this morning. It seems a big thing nowadays is to put your laundryroom on the second floor where the bedrooms usually are. I would much more approve of a main floor laundryroom so I could attend to the laundry and carry on with daily life on the same floor instead of running up and down stairs.

I do enjoy these programs, though, because they give me all sorts of ideas for things I can do or could have done. I'm not about to do anything too drastic with this house now because it won't be mine in a few years and the new owners can do as they please. I'm relatively content with the status quo with only a few changes in mind.

I'd thought of maybe going yard saleing this morning but the impending rain has put a stop to that so I guess it will be Swedish weaving. I've neglected Nicole's afghan for the last few days and it's time to get busy on it. One of these days I'm going to tackle my sewing room, too, and sort out things (mainly fabric) for a yard sale of my own.

Now I'm hearing the rumble of thunder. I've always been nervous about thunder and lightening because my grandmother told me a horror story about a bolt of lightening coming straight through an open window of her parent's house and starting a fire. I'm not so nervous in a closed up house but hate it when the lightening bursts close by. It always amazed me that my dog, Corky, had no fear of thunder and lightening but was terrified of the sound of firecrackers. My guess is that one of his previous owners scared him with a firecracker and he never forgot.

We're all the sum product of everything we've experienced our whole lives and it's wonderful how we can rearrange our experiences so that they don't ruin us. It's all in the attitude, isn't it? Just another way of saying, "make lemonade out of lemons". That's the attitude I've chosen.

Bobba

I used to call my grandfather Bobba. It probably was how I said Grampa when I was a baby and my family encouraged it because it sounded cute. I didn't much like it and, as a teenager, became embarrassed if an outsider heard me say it.

Bobba, whose real name was Patrick but always known as Paddy, was born on June 3, 1881 in Ireland. At some point he emigrated to Canada and found himself living in Hamilton, Ontario. As far as I know, he had no family here so it must have been lonely for him. He met my grandmother, Theresa, and married her some time around 1920. Nan, as I called her, was 13 years younger than him but she was a widow with 2 children, although only one lived with her.

Nan came from a staunch Protestant family and Bobba was Catholic. I'm sure there were many family fights about that but he was a good man and a hard worker who helped raise my mother as his own. Nan and Bobba had another daughter soon after their marriage. You know, I was told they married but never heard anything about an anniversary. Hmmm! Now I'm wondering!

Bobba wasn't a stupid man but he'd never learned to read or write, probably having to leave school (if he ever went at all) and go to work. It wasn't uncommon for a boy born in 1881 to not attend school. Nan would read the newspaper to him every night after dinner, a nice thing for her to do and an indication that Bobba took an interest in the news even though he'd had little or no schooling.

Bobba worked as a city garbage man, one who pushed a cart along the road and swept the curbside. As a child, I was slightly embarrassed about his occupation and once even pretended I didn't see him as I passed him at work. I've always been ashamed of that. Teenagers often become embarrassed over the slightest thing and I was no exception.

He worked until his late 70's because City Hall didn't know his true age. I'm sure he lied about it when he applied for the job, knowing a younger man would more likely be hired. I remember when he finally had to retire and he was given the choice of a regular pension or a lump sum. My grandmother insisted on the lump sum which amounted to $800, a lot of money in those days.

Bobba was a weekend drinker, sweet and gentle all week long but drunk and argumentative from Friday night to Sunday night. I lived with them so I dreaded weekends because of this. It instilled in me a lifelong determination to never, ever marry a heavy drinking man and I never did. Dennis was a social drinker on a minor scale.

When I was a little girl, Bobba would walk me down to the bayfront and we'd board one of the day cruise boats. We'd sit quietly and watch the teenagers dance, me hoping I could grow up fast and dance with them. By the time I was a teenager, the cruise boats were still there but no dancing was allowed. Darn!

Bobba wasn't my blood grandfather but he played the part, or tried to. I was headstrong and not too nice to him as I grew up because I felt I couldn't respect a man who was drunk every weekend. It colored how I felt about a man who, when sober, was a fine person but, when drunk, criticized me constantly. I only learned to value him after he passed away.

Bobba was a big man, not fat, but tall and broad even at 82. His end came suddenly and sadly because he wasn't sick. He'd been waiting on the front steps for my mother to bring my sister for a visit but, when they didn't arrive, he stood up to go inside the house and lost his balance. He fell backwards and hit his head on the concrete sidewalk. He died in the hospital a few hours later.

Bobba died in 1963 when I was 23 years old, married with 2 children. I had lived with him since my birth right up until I married at 17 so it was like a part of me had been ripped away. It was so hard to accept that my larger than life grandfather wasn't there anymore.

It's been 44 years since his death and he remains an important person in my life. I miss him and wish he were here so I could ask all the questions of him that I never cared to ask when he was alive. I wish I could tell him I appreciate everything he did for me. I wish there was some way to let him know I love him. Too often we wait too long, don't we?

More of Nolan

These are pictures of my happy little boy as he's winding down and ready for sleep. Sleep probably arrived as his Mommy and Grandma were driving him home to his own house.

Evening With Nolan

Nolan's Mommy is practicing for a play she's in at her church so I got to spend a few hours last evening with my favorite 23 month old greatgrandson. He behaved absolutely perfectly as he always does and he was a joy to have around the whole time he was here.

If I have one complaint, it's that I took about a hundred pictures of him and most were of his back as he walked away or of his head deep down in concentration with one of his toys. I desperately wanted to capture that sweet face and gorgeous eyes in a photo.

Nolan loves his cars and spent pretty well the whole time in play and using his imagination with them. I'd really love to know why little boys are so fascinated with cars and little girls prefer dolls. Maybe it's what we provide for them and steer them towards.

Nolan arrived at 6:30 P.M. which is just a half hour before his bedtime but I'd been given permission to let him stay awake as long as he wanted. He finally started to crash at 8:30 but those gorgeous blue eyes remained mostly open until his Mommy arrived at 9:30 and he greeted her with a huge smile and hug. All evening I'd gotten lots of smiles but not one hug. I guess mommy's are preferred to gg's.

He chattered away to me in some mysterious language that I didn't always understand but he never became frustrated, just wandered off to find a toy he'd momentarily misplaced. It will be wonderful to have him speak so that I can understand him but that's not too far away. Babies grow up so fast and it's important to cherish each step of the way and not wish those baby years gone too soon.

I still see his Daddy in that dear little face and it brings back memories of when he was that age. Nolan is his own self, though, and I love him immensely. I think he'll grow up to be a very intelligent but cheerful soul because that's all I've seen with him so far. He's pretty well perfect.

Postal Strike...Who Cares?

There is a postal strike threatening us but most of us don't feel the slightest bit threatened. I can't remember the last time I mailed a letter to someone because I'm an e-mail queen. I sell hardly anything on Ebay while I'm in Canada because the shipping cost is way too high already. My bills are paid either by automatic withdrawal from the bank account or online and my pension money goes into my account automatically. Very little impact will be felt by me during a postal strike unless I'd miss all those dumb store flyers in the mailbox. I won't.

I feel a bit bad for the postal employees because they are darned well paid for a service that is gradually becoming obsolete. Maybe it isn't a good idea for them to be striking for higher wages and benefits when we're mostly doing quite well without their services. If I were them, I'd be hoping that I could hang on to my job and not do something to cause layoffs.

This is a world in which many previously secure jobs are becoming obsolete. When I was in high school, I used to think I wanted to be a stenographer but today you can speak into a machine that puts your words in print. Bookkeepers use complex computer programs rather than math skills. Factories use more computerized equipment now than manpower. Milk and bread home deliverymen long ago had to change their career paths.

As the world changes, whether it's for the better or worse, we need to adjust our previously held convictions and realize that we must change with it. If a mailperson is mainly delivering unwanted advertisements to homes then they should worry that their well paid jobs just might be at risk. It's inevitable that door to door mail delivery will soon become a thing of the past.

To Do List

No, not for me to do but for my good, old handyman! I called him this morning, assuming he was back from his trip to England and he was. I asked him when he was going to get started on my jobs and he said in a week...or so. Hmmm! I love this guy because he's honest and doesn't gouge me but he sure is hard to get started on any job he does for me. I can see another phone call to him being needed in a week...or so.

Every once in a while I think it might be a good idea to look for a new husband, one who is a good handyman but then I give myself a shake and realize that an old handyman might not be interested in my list of jobs. Then I'd be stuck with some old guy who won't do what I married him for.

In years past, I would get my jollies from glancing at good looking men. These days, I sigh after any man wearing a tool belt. Unfortunately, they're usually young enough to be my son or grandson.

Dennis, with prodding and nagging, would do most of my handyman jobs but only finished to about 95% before he totally lost interest and thought it was done good enough. My part in any of the work he did was just to clean up after him so I couldn't complain too much about that last 5% he neglected. If he'd had his way, we would have moved into this house and never done one thing to improve it. Some men are like that. They're content with what is and don't have the ability or interest to see what could be.

Oh well, my front steps might look like a fatal case of leprosy but my garden looks nice. I'll have to settle for that for a week...or so.

Mini Holiday

Faye, Mary, and I had our little mini holiday at the casino and we had a great time as usual. Unfortunately, I lost again but it was still fun.

We had free dinners and breakfasts so we all ate way too much. Buffets are really killers for me because I eat a plate full of hot food, a plate of salads, and then dessert. That is not a normal meal for me but it's there and I can't resist it. I was almost too full and tired to gamble but I gathered my resources and forced myself to do it.

After breakfast today, we gambled for an hour before going to an outlet mall nearby to shop. I lost a little bit more. Mary found a really nice pair of dress shoes at Nine West and I almost succumbed to the temptation to buy a pair, too. I just didn't need another pair so I fought off the urge. I'd always thought that Nine West shoes were horribly expensive but Mary's cost her under $30 with the tax.

My right knee, the so-called good one, has been hurting something fierce for over a week now and I don't know what I did to it. It made walking quite painful so we didn't stay at the mall long. I hate holding Faye and Mary back but they didn't seem to be too interested in staying longer than we did, anyway.

I love our little trips to Fallsview, especially when we get the free room and free dinners. It helps to take the sting out of losing at the slot machines. We'll be going back!