I'm baaack.

Due to the overwhelming support of my followers – all three of you – I am back again. Actually, I was never going to quit – you should all be so lucky – I just get kind of busy some days.

On Sunday we went to the Ituna Fall Supper with our friends, Bonnie and Wade. There is something very life affirming about the Ituna Fall Supper. I come away feeling that the world is a good place, and the people in it are very nice indeed. One of the things I like about them is that they use the word “not” as an expression of the positive. “Its a nice day, not?” Unlike the rest of the world which uses “NOT” to emphasize the negative. “I love wind and rain. NOT!” The people beyond the perogie belt are sensible, hardworking folk and they do know how to put on a spread.

It is quite an experience to go to the Ituna Fall Supper, especially the Greek Orthodox Fall Supper (The RC Fall Supper is usually the previous week – quite event also as I understand). The supper starts at 4:30, and we arrived around 5:10. We were just about the last ones in the hall. As we walked in, the lady at the front desk makes no bones about staring at us and wondering who the heck we are, as we pay our cash and get our dinner tickets.

Once past the desk, a man wraps his arm around my shoulder and steers me firmly into the centre of the hall, and points out that Mr. So and So-ski will seat us. Mr. So and So-ski races to my side and guides me to the end of the hall, my friends following behind like ducklings, and points to 4 chairs “You sit by that lady in the red sweater there” he instructs and races off. We stake out our chairs and spots at the table with jackets and ball caps and head back to the food line.

Before we can get too far we are stopped by two little guys about 10 years old. Do we want to buy Alter Server raffle tickets? Do we have a choice, when said alter servers are standing right there with their great big eyes? “I only have a loonie” I say. “Good, that’s just what they cost” the tall one says as the shorter one swipes the coin out of my hand and hands me a piece of paper to write my name on. You can win some great prizes at the Alter Server raffle. Like huge ceramic Cats, and salad spinners. We make our way to the buffet.

Long tables buckle under the weight of massive amounts of food. There are salads of every kind, Greek, Caesar, tossed, rice, macaroni, potato – and not a single jello was sacrificed to make any of them. Pickles dishes litter every spare spot with all variety of HOME MADE pickles. There are two kinds of cabbage rolls, fresh buns, roast beef, mashed potatoes and real gravy, carrots – the huge kind that come right from somebody's garden at the end of the season – and perogies with sour cream and onions swimming in butter to put over them. And none of this is “lite” or “low fat”. I can fairly hear my arteries thudding shut as we troop back to our table.

We have done a lot of traveling with Bonnie and Wade and the four of us know when it is time to visit and when it is time to shut up and eat. We tie into our platters of food.

I am sitting beside the lady in the red sweater and as she watches us closely, she leans over and asks “What happened to your husband's hand?” She can see his hook, and the sparks that fly as he digs into his food and forks it into his mouth. Between bites of Greek Salad I mumble “lost 'em in a farm accident”. “Oh jeesh” she says “there is so much of that. I think there was some guy from Lebret or somewhere that lost both of his”. “hmm, yeah this is him” I respond absently as I focus on getting gravy on all sides of my fork full of mashed potatoes. “This is HIM? Jeesh. Well that is just cruel. At least if he had one arm, you know...” Okay, so she wants a conversation I know it, but I have a mouth full of perogie that is soaked in thick sour cream and covered in butter and onions and I am in a near orgasmic state and all I can do is just nod my head. Please red sweater, just talk with your friends for a little while, until I am done eating.

 Bonnie is nothing if not intuitive and she says “oh yeah, Murray is the one and only. He does so well” and I use that opportunity to take another bite and drift into a epicurean euphoria. “That was a long time ago” red sweater says. But she just isn't saying so. She is asking. Please dear lady, there is a cabbage roll waiting for my undivided attention... but I croak out “1975” with my mouth full. “Oh my God, that is 35 years ago” she blurts out loudly. Uh huh, that’s what I figure anyway. “Oh that is a long time ago. I KNOW it” We are kind of aware also. “I was young then, and now I am OLD”. So, now I have to swallow and laugh. Now that she has my attention, she turns away to talk to her friends. She is done with me. I finish my meal in blissful silence. Shoot. Now I am too full to eat all of my wonderful fresh HOMEMADE bun. Damn.

/bye