A cheerful day

It was a relief to hear that our grandson Alexander in London (one year, one month, two weeks and six days old) hadn't been diagnosed with chickenpox after all, that his mystery rash had disappeared and he was back at his nursery this morning. This afternoon, by means of our Skype connection, I peeped into his living room at home after his supper and watched him "reading" from his picture book. "Dog, teddy, duck," he said, pointing to the fox, the bears, and the swans. Then he correctly identified an "owl". Good boy, I said.

At this side of the Atlantic, it was a snow-shoeing morning again, and this time I took Carol with me, introducing her to a large number of diplomats and other Canadians who were being welcomed today at the Malaysian High Commissioner's residence. I was amused to observe, when we stepped into the garage where everyone was trying to find the correct boots in a chaos of mukluk bags and wet plastic bags, that one of the press photographers was quietly recording all this commotion from the far corner. I limited myself to twenty snaps of the people in the park for our Diplomatic Hospitality album. Then back to the warmth and elegant spaciousness of the Malaysian reception rooms with their orchids, polished hardwood floors and chandeliers, so that our eighty or so participants this morning (from Japan, Tanzania, Croatia, Bulgaria, Korea, Swaziland, Venezuela, Algeria, etc., etc.) could chatter to one another in comfort and share the buffet lunch.

Other things I've been up to this week have been the preparation of another article for our flying club's Cross Winds magazine and a good deal of music making on the rented violin that we still haven't returned to the violin shop. Or rather, we did return it, but as I couldn't bear the thought of leaving it there I took out a second month's rental, bringing it straight back home again. With Chris on the clarinet, we can now work together on our duet repertoire: Brahms, Schumann, Mozart, Handel, Massenet, Bach. Compared with the viola, I find this instrument easier and am amazed at how much I can remember of the technique and fingering, although I haven't played a violin for over thirty years. It must be like riding a bike or swimming, once learned, never forgotten.

To round off the day, we ate a quiet supper with Carol and Don at the Saint-Éloi Café in Gatineau, Chris enjoying a couple of Tuborg beers avec ça.