Musings - KINETIC MOTIONS

August 30, 2017

Have You Ever Participated in a Weird Sport?

It’s time for Sports Wednesday – a little later in the day, I know – but really, it’s never too late for Sports Wednesday. Today I was thinking about alternative activities. There’s the mainstream sports that are popular throughout North America, such as baseball, basketball, hockey, football and even soccer. Other popular activities (some are sports and others may be more in the category of hobbies) are everything from skiing and curling to bowling and darts to swimming and skating. So, I was thinking, have you ever tried a weird sport?

Thanks to everyone’s friend, Mr. Google, I have been searching around the internet today to see what’s out there in the category of weird sport, and wow, human beings do some strange things!

I found a great article from the Huffington Post that gave me a list that made me laugh out loud as I read it. Have you ever participated in a Wife Carrying competition? Did you know there are even world championships for this competitive sport? This is aweird sport that originated in Sonkajarvi, Finland, in which husbands carry their wives, as fast as they can, through an obstacle course. It’s not too late to enter into the North American competition this year, which happens on October 7, 2017, in Sunday River, Maine.

What is the strangest place you have ever played hockey? And I’m not talking about an ice rink near the equator or a parking lot in China. How about under water? Have you heard of Octopush, which is competitive hockey in a pool? It’s not some game played by drunk frat boys in a small Canadian town. It’s for real. Strap on the speedo, hold your breath, jump in the pool (with a hockey stick of course), and try your best to shoot the puck into the opposing team’s goal.

Chess Boxing baffles me. Chess is all about beating your opponent with your brain. Boxing is all about beating up your opponent, including that person’s brain. So how can a sport exist that goes back and forth between punching each other’s lights out and sophisticated strategy? And yet it does. There is even a World Chess Boxing Organization, and their motto is, “fighting is done in the ring and wars are waged on the board.” Sure.

I could continue my Google searches for hours, and I know I would find tons and tons of activities under weird sport. How about cheese rolling or extreme ironing? Shin kicking? Fireball soccer? Giant Pumpkin regatta? Sepaktakraw (special kind of volleyball in Japan, but no hands allowed)? Face pulling contest?

The photos and descriptions show people having fun, which I guess is really what matters. And what’s mainstream for one person may be weird to another, and vice versa. Have you participated in a weird sport? Leave me a comment here, post on Facebook or Tweet at me @AliciaRichler..

August 29, 2017

Extreme Weather is Headed Your Way

I am a weather watcher, as I discussed in a previous post. For the most part I follow local weather and like to know the general current and future weather patterns crossing over my city. Will it be warm today? Is it going to rain tomorrow? Should I worry about a smog alert? For the most part, the weather in Toronto is quite tame. We experience four distinct seasons and can expect everything from heat and cold alerts to big rainfalls and massive snowstorms. But is it just me, or are there more extreme weather systems lately? And I’m not talking about just Toronto, but all over the world.

This past week all eyes have been on Hurricane Harvey. This massive, slow-moving storm has wreaked havoc on southeastern Texas in the United States and destroyed everything in its path. Hurricanes are not new, and there have been dozens of them that have been catastrophic. Hurricane Hazel in 1954 changed the city of Toronto forever. Hurricanes Katrina and Wilma caused death and destruction in 2005 in the United States. David crashed through the Caribbean and United States in 1979 and killed over two thousand people.

While hurricanes are big weather events that rightly attract tremendous attention, I believe that in general we are experiencing more extreme weather.

My own city of Toronto saw so much rainfall this spring that there was flooding. The average rainfall for May, for example, is 73 mm. However, over 142 mm fell in May 2017. Heavy rain fell day after day, the water levels rose in Lake Ontario and flooded lakeside communities and the Toronto Islands. While most of the heavy rain has subsided, it’s rare this summer to have a few days straight with sunshine and no forecast of rain.

On the other side of extreme weather, wildfires are causing tremendous damage in communities in Western Canada. Last year it took over two months to bring massive fires under control in and around Fort McMurray, Alberta. Right now, with extreme temperatures and not enough rain, fires are ravaging British Columbia.

As I read in an article from Global News, “B.C. remains under a state of emergency as more than 100 wildfires continue to burn across the province. This season is now B.C.’s worst fire season in history and it is far from over.”

It’s not hard to find other extreme weather and its consequences all over the world. Tornadoes, mud slides, monsoons, flooding, record heat. I am not a meteorologist or a climatologist, but common sense tells me our world is changing. And I believe that we, as human beings, are accelerating those changes. From the worst wildfires to record temperatures to highest rainfall in one day, this is our reality today. Extreme weather is our present and our future. Let’s try to be a kinder to our planet, please?

August 28, 2017August 29, 2017

Drive Driving in the Car all Along Highway 401

Highway 401 between the cities of Montreal and Toronto is one of the most boring routes on which a person can drive. If you are someone who lives in a village, farm, town or city along this route, I am sure your home is beautiful, but I am sorry to say, that highway is just awful.

I have been traveling along Highway 401 for my whole life. I grew up in Toronto but have a ton of family who live a few hundred kilometres away in Montreal. My parents actually moved from Montreal to Toronto a few weeks before I was born, so in my early years I spent a lot of time, with my siblings in the back seat of our car, shuttling between the two cities.

I know Highway 401 so well that I can name off many of the towns and their related exit numbers between the two cities. Just a couple of weeks ago my sister went as far as to call me a savant when I knew all the names of the towns she passed at certain exits along the route (as I sat in Toronto). Exit 696 is Brockville; 497 is where you will find the Big Apple; 798 is Cornwall; 543B is Belleville (but of course also the road that takes you to Tweed). I could go on and on.

Different exit numbers and towns connect with various stories and memories of my childhood, teenage years and adulthood. I will admit that most are happy memories, and you may ask why then do I find this highway so boring?

I guess it’s because it is just hundreds of kilometers of long, rather straight highway, where most of the views are the same. Or maybe it’s because I have gone back and forth so many times. I enter Highway 401 in the centre of Toronto, around exit marker 367, and continue on as it switches to highway 20 in Quebec, at exit 825.

Those first 130 kilometers can be really rough sometimes, as we fight Toronto traffic. If we leave Toronto at the “wrong” time of day (in other words rush hour), it could easily take two hours to get to the Big Apple at exit 497. Sometimes that first 130 kilometers seem interminable. If we are lucky enough to miss an accident or construction, the 500’s and 600’s can fly by. But somehow, always, there is a lane closure or potholes or repaving somewhere in the 700’s to slow us down. I won’t even start on the construction delays once we cross the Quebec border.

I was lucky enough this summer to skip the long drive along Highway 401 from Toronto to Montreal. Matthew and I flew to Montreal after our special weekend in Chicago. But yesterday, after a week with family in Saint Donat, our family of five drove that long way back along the 401.

The drive home, on a beautiful Sunday in August, is always long. While I love the Laurentian Autoroute, with its twists and turns, mountains, lakes and stunning vistas, it is also always under construction and always jammed up with traffic. It took us almost three hours, from our start in Saint Donat, to reach the Ontario border and start of Highway 401. As we experienced the thrill of completing a part of our drive, the sober reality of hundreds of kilometers of the boring Highway 401 ahead made me depressed.

My two older kids gorged on junk food and iPads while the baby drifted between sleep and screaming. David did a mighty fine job driving the full distance. We actually only hit big traffic in Toronto’s eastern suburbs. Around us was the usual mix of aggressive drivers. There were some who drove their vehicles so close to our car at times that I could see the plaque on their teeth in my rear-view mirror and others who changed lanes so often that it seemed they were trying to weave a quilt with their car.

No, I don’t like Highway 401 between Toronto and Montreal. I like my home and I like my destination, but that route in between is boring, stressful and exhausting. All three kids were ecstatic to jump out of the car when we arrived home last night. They too clearly had enough. For now, that’s what we have, and I guess that’s the route we will take. The destination, and the family at the other end, are worth it.

August 24, 2017

We are Smartphone and Tablet Addicts

I love my Apple products. My MacBook, iPhone and iPad are always nearby. Some would say that it’s disappointing that I don’t have an iWatch or iPod too. I will admit that I am slightly manually operated, but I have come to love and embrace my technology products. And I believe that I am not unique. I am almost embarrassed to admit that in my household we own three laptops, three iPads and two iPhones. We may be on the edge of being smartphone and tablet addicts.

I found a survey from 2016 that showed that 76% of Canadians own and use a smartphone. That was up from 68% in 2015 and 55% in 2014. Common sense tells me that the number has increased in 2017 and undoubtedly has surpassed 80%. Among my close family and friends, I would say that number is actually 100%.

Everyone around me seems to own at least one smartphone and usually at least one tablet and/or computer as well. We carry our smartphones with us everywhere we go. Some would even joke that we would remember to take our smartphones with us before we remember to take our children.

People’s eyes are glued to their technology as they walk in the mall, commute to work or relax on the couch at home. What did we do with our time before we had smartphones? Did we actually stand in line and look around us or talk to the person beside us? When we sat on the bus on the way to work, did we actually read a newspaper or a paper-based book? When we waited for our friend to arrive at the local café, what did we do with those three minutes?

Children are the technology generation. I will never forget the moment when my daughter, Julia, about two years old at the time, showed her grandmother how to use an iPad. Well, kind of. Julia crawled across the table at the Apple store, swiped her fingers across the iPad, tapped on Angry Birds and began to play. One-year-old Nessa sees a screen and immediately taps on it, as she knows it will respond.

As I write this blog I am also hollering at Julia to get off her iPad and get dressed, brush her hair and make a card for her cousin. She doesn’t hear me and doesn’t even notice I am standing beside her, raising my voice. She is focused solely on the game on her screen. Clearly My Town Home, Minecraft, Plants vs Zombies and a whole host of other apps are more interesting and more important than listening to her mother.

The word “wait” has taken on a new meaning in my life the last couple of years. People around me, usually my kids, have to finish a game move, a YouTube video or a text before they can talk to me. It seems to be smartphone or tablet first, face-to-face communication second.

Can you think of a time you may have walked into someone on the street because your face was down, focused on your smartphone? Have you ever missed your stop on the bus or subway because you were too engrossed in your What’s App conversation? Have you ever sat at a meeting at work, with your smartphone hidden under the table as you text your best friend, then realize that your boss is asking you a question – and you have no idea what to answer because you missed the whole meeting?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, then you are a smartphone or table addict. And that’s okay. Technology is part of our lives today. Maybe sometimes we go a bit too far and forget about the world around us. Sometime we ignore our mother when she is asking us to make our bed or brush our teeth. Maybe we need to look up and listen up a little more.

In the meantime, back to my eight different games on Words with Friends. I have to keep my winning streak going against my brother-in-law.

August 22, 2017August 23, 2017

Home is where the Hart is

I have been teasing this blog post for the last few weeks. I have mentioned the house in Saint Donat a few times in previous posts, and now is the day I will share the great wonders of this special place. I’m talking about the Hart family country home, deep in the Laurentian mountains, in the heart of Quebec.

The Hart family is David’s mother’s family. David’s grandfather, Isador Hart, bought land in the far-off village of Saint Donat in the 1940’s. In 1949 he and his wife, Ada, built a small cabin on the edge of Lake Archambault. They chose a spot where the land juts out and has the most spectacular view of the lake. From this spot, it feels like the mountains are melting into the water below.

The two-bedroom cabin was a tight squeeze for the Hart family of five, which included their three kids, Barbara, Annie and Billy. Over the years, as the family grew, the house was expanded and renovated. Today it is a five-bedroom, three-bathroom sprawling bungalow. The house maintains its 1950’s character, with the original yet functional kitchen, painted wood paneling and assortment of vintage furniture.

The Hart family’s connection to this home is something special. As my mother-in-law, Barbara, recently said, “If I forget thee, O Saint Donat, may my right hand wither.”

David grew up in this home, as did his siblings and cousins. They spent their summers here, swimming in the lake, playing hide and seek and building sand castles on the beach. David often tells me that his best memories of his childhood are from Saint Donat.

I have been coming to Saint Donat for half my life. I have been here when it’s almost empty and quiet and also with twenty other people. When the house is empty, you can hear the loons sing on the lake and the trees rustle in the wind. When the house is full, like it is this week, it can be hard to find a seat on the couch or two minutes in the bathroom. I remember one summer, a few years ago, when the house topped twenty people and we ran out of beds and couches for people to sleep. The living room was so packed with people, on couches, the floor and a cot, that it looked like a homeless shelter.

The traditions are many in the Hart house, and there are too many to include all of them here. People don’t swim here, they throw themselves in the lake. It wouldn’t be a summer without “Steak night in Canada.” A popular evening activity is a rousing game of Boggle. A morning is not complete without a roaring fire. Grandma Hart’s famous eggplant, first made by Ada and now by Billy, is a staple. There are power walks, canoe trips and camping trips. Squad Leader. The deer head. Decorated plates. Ancestor photo. Good things breakfast. Blueberry pie. People magazine.

I often joke that the home has kept so much of its original charm that if you pushed one of the outside walls too hard the whole house would fall over. Okay, it’s a bit of an exaggeration, but like any home that is almost 70 years old, the property probably needs a bit of TLC. Maintaining a family country home for so many years can be a challenge, and planning for each summer is often an anxious experience. But for me and David, once we hit the Laurentian Autoroute and pass our favourite landmarks like the Big Chicken, Banana Bridge and cross on the mountain, our stresses disappear.

For the Hart family, no matter how busy life is, no matter where in the world they live, Saint Donat is their true home. They would move mountains to spend time here and come together as a family. As a thunderstorm brews outside and we gather in the living room beside a roaring fire, today the Hart family is enjoying a typical Saint Donat day. I look forward to so many more.

August 21, 2017August 21, 2017

We were Eclipsed, and it was Great. Best way to experience a Solar Eclipse

The emails began months ago when the Hart family started to discuss summer plans. Uncles, aunts, cousins, sisters and brothers were planning to come together in August for our annual thundering hordes, and August 21 was pinned on the calendar. An eclipse of the sun. A partial eclipse, but still something special.

How do we “see” the eclipse without seeing it? How do we protect our eyes? Can the children participate? The emails swirled, orders were made for special glasses and research done on pinhole cameras. Would we “see” anything? Would the sky be clear or would we get rain? The questions and questions and emails and emails. It was overwhelming.

The Hart family (David’s mother’s family) has come together in the village of Saint Donat northwest of Montreal (more on this in another post). Relatives have traveled from far off places like Israel and Washington state and converged on the family country home.

Over the past 24 hours I have read countless websites about this major event, as I soaked up whatever knowledge I could. By mid-morning today I was still far from an expert, and I don’t think anyone else in the house was either. We all knew that looking directly at the sun was a bad idea and could do damage to the eyes (specifically the retina).

Some people chose to go on a short canoe trip and the bright sun be damned. Others wanted to close the blinds and hide out in the house all day. Most of us decided to strap on the special glasses and try to see the moon move across the path of the sun.

The Montreal area only expected a partial eclipse of about 59-66%, so we knew that the sky would not go dark. We also knew that a patch of cloud or burst of rain could ruin it all. But the day stayed bright and sunny with only a few clouds.

We made our way to the deck at 1:20 pm and carefully tried on the special glasses. It took us a while to fasten them tightly to our eyes, just in case a drop of sun dared touch our retinas. David gasped in fear if anyone looked up, with the glasses on, for too long, and Julia didn’t quite understand what was happening. The rest of us, in good cheer, enjoyed the experience tremendously.

I tried to snap a photo with my phone (with my phone protected by the glasses), and that did not quite work and could only snap a photo in my mind as I glanced to the sky throughout the afternoon. I was in awe of the sight, of Earth’s great moon passing so gracefully across the sun, and blocking its path to us. With all the great inventions of humankind and great discoveries on Earth, there, in front of me, was an astounding natural sight. It is an event that has been happening for billions of years, and we were just spectators. Wow.

Thank you to everyone in the crowded house, all fourteen of you (with me it makes 15!), for preparing, discussing and experiencing this great event with me. We had disagreements today, a lot of silliness and a lot of fun. Maybe we can come together again for the next solar eclipse, scheduled for 2024!

August 16, 2017

What’s in a Name? Best Names in Sports

Sports Wednesday is back! My apologies that I didn’t get my act together last week and write a post for you. This week I was thinking about memorable, interesting, funny and unpronounceable names in sports. The idea got into my head recently when I wrote an email to Matthew at camp and wanted to tell him about a new player on the Jays roster who had a great night. I couldn’t remember the player’s name because I couldn’t pronounce it! The player is Rob Refsnyder. I typed it I realize now it’s not that difficult a name to say or spell.

So, I am going to dive deep and look at some other players, current or past, with names I just have to write about. Let’s start with baseball. Every time I hear about Coco Crisp I want to go to my pantry and eat a bowl of cereal. I believe his actual full name is Covelli, but I prefer to call him Coco. He played baseball for 13 seasons and retired at the end of last season. Milton Bradley is a baseball player but also the founder of the board game company that bears his name. No, they are not the same person.

Then there is John Olerud,. He was one of my favourite players on the Blue Jays during their 1992-93 World Series run. I feel like his name was accidentally spelled backwards and should really be John Durelo. Don’t you agree?

Then there are the baseball players whose names need no explanation, like Dick Pole, Johnny Dickshot, Boof Bonser and Rusty Kuntz (less disturbing when you learn the last name is pronounced Koontz).

Looking at more names in sports, let’s move on to hockey. The National Hockey League has mainly attracted players from across North America and Europe, and sometimes the names make more sense in their original language. Or sometimes the name comes from a country where the local language is pronounced or spelled very differently than English. Sometimes the name is just strange.

Take Radek Bonk for instance. He is Czech, but it seems to me that the word “bonk” has a clear meaning in any language. Bill Quackenbush played in the NHL in the 1940’s and 1950’s. This is a Dutch name that means “swamp wilderness.” Håkan Loob is a Swedish name, and he played for the Calgary Flames in the 1980’s. Does “Loob” mean something less silly-sounding in Swedish?

The NBA attracts players from around the world, including of course North America, Europe, Africa and Asia. There is quite a variety of names in this league. My local team, the Toronto Raptors, has a number of players with great names. Serge Ibaka is a good one, and of course I just love Jonas Valancuinas. Not only does he have a cool name but he wears a jersey with #17 on the back. Anything with #17 is great, of course.

Ruben Boumtje Boumtje, from Cameroon, enjoyed a short NBA career, and at 7.0 feet tall and 260 pounds no one ever made fun of his name! Other notable names are Detlef Schrempf, Luc Richard M’bah-a-Moute and Al-Farouq Aminu, just because they sound great.

I could probably go on forever, but for now I will just add a few more of the best names in sports in general. Dean Windass played soccer in the English Premier League, Yourhighness Morgan (no joke), a former football player, another football player named Fair Hooker and Kim Yoo-Suk, a Korean Olympic pole vaulter (unfortunate only in English).

What do you think are some of the best names in sports? Do you have a favourite or one that is unique or memorable? Leave a comment here, or post on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram.

August 15, 2017

Dogs have a Sixth Sense

I don’t own a dog, I don’t want to own a dog right now, but I love dogs. I have cared for many dogs over the years for family and friends. We love to host them in our home. My kids love them too. I believe the right dog is a great addition to any family. Caring for a dog – properly – takes a lot of work and time, which is one of the reasons I don’t want a dog right now. Dogs are wonderful and loving friends, and the more time I spend around them the more I am sure of their sixth sense.

What do I mean by that? So, there are the basic five senses, shared by humans and many animals (including dogs). Those are the ability to see, hear, touch, taste and smell. The sixth sense is something almost impossible to describe. I see it as the ability to simply sense the unknown. Dogs have a special kind of intelligence and sensitivity that we take for granted, and the more time I spend with them the more I feel it.

There have been a number of special dogs in my life, all of whom have spent time at my house. All of them were very different, with their own quirks, and I was always intrigued by their means of communication with me and their level of intellect. That’s right, intellect.

The most special dog for me of course was Oscar. He came into our lives in March of 1999 and quickly became the love of my mother’s life (sorry Dad, it’s true). Oscar put his five basic senses to full use every day. He could see a bird high in the sky (in particular turkey vultures) and defend us mightily as he chased it away. He could hear sounds that no one around him could fathom and loved to cuddle up close to us when he took a snooze. Oscar’s sense of taste was most interesting, as I believe his favourite food was Challah bread, and there was nothing better than wet grass after a rainstorm, with all kinds of new smells to explore.

Oscar was the smartest dog I have ever met, and I think anyone who met him would agree. When he was a puppy I taught him how to sneeze when he wanted something, and he knew the name of all his toys. He wasn’t a fan of my parents’ collection of grandchildren, which we referred to as “things” around him. But Oscar somehow knew that these children were special, and he was always gentle around them. He just had this ability to sense things that always amazed me.

No one knew how to get comfortable and have a snooze like Oscar

I was lucky to meet two of my mother-in-law’s dogs. Soho was a feisty mixed breed who had strong opinions about everyone. She was loving to those she loved and nasty to those she disliked. My mother-in-law’s current dog, Mu Shu, has some rage issues and doesn’t always play nice with other dogs. But I feel like Mu Shu possesses that sixth sense more than other dogs I have met. He is deeply protective of his family and is extraordinarily loyal.

Then there is Herzl, my sister’s crazy dog. No one will ever question Herzl’s incredible sense of hearing. A knock on the door or a doorbell ring on TV will send this canine into a hysterical fit. He definitely prefers to be around females. His favourite people seem to be my sister, my mother, me and Nessa (that’s right the baby). His love of Nessa is so strong that we often wonder if my little miracle baby could be the re-incarnation of Oscar. Herzl loved Oscar, and while he is not a fan of small children he has shown tremendous interest and loyalty to baby Nessa.

Other dogs have visited my house and stayed with my family over the years and left their impression on me. Scooby, a little daschund, liked to sleep head first under the covers in my bed, with his bum sticking out. Did he get better reception that way? Buddy was a hyperactive Havanese who made me realize why this breed is often known as a bedroom slipper on acid. Cody and Cammy were brothers with quirky personalities. Cody had a bit of a personality disorder and didn’t like people for the most part. But he was gentle and sweet around baby Matthew. I learned from Cody that babies and dogs both love repetitive behaviour. They played for hours together with a wet kong toy, and it never got old.

I think we often underestimate the intelligence and astuteness of dogs. No matter how hard I try to understand and explain their sixth sense I just can’t properly articulate it. The way they look at us, the way they snuggle with us and the way they communicate with us are expressions of their unique role in this world. I really do not want a dog of my own right now, but I look forward to welcoming many more into my home and learning about their sixth sense.

August 14, 2017August 14, 2017

My Family is Complete Again

Yesterday morning, on a beautiful warm and sunny Sunday in the summer, David, Nessa, Julia and I (and our nephew Eliah!) got in the car and drove to the airport. Six weeks had quickly passed and it was time to collect Matthew at the airport. His fourth summer at Camp Kadimah was over and it was time to return home. As I watched his tanned and dirty face light up as he saw his family when he entered the arrivals area I knew my family was complete again.

Three months into blogging people often ask me if I have found my groove, where I plan to take this blog or if I plan to tackle more controversial topics. They also ask me if this space is personal or if I am open to sharing thoughts or topics that are more private.

So far, the majority of my posts are light and consist mainly of my musings. For the most part I write about what I see and experience every day. But sometimes I write about a topic of which I am passionate, such as the role of women in society or childcare.

The post I take most to heart is the one I published on May 26, the day Nessa turned one. This delicious little baby, who is now 14 months old, is our miracle. The day she was born I knew my family was complete.

When Matthew flew off to camp last summer, and again this summer, I felt a void in my house. When he wasn’t home my family was not complete. We are a strong family of five. I learned over the past fourteen months that each of us contribute something different and special to this dynamic.

Many couples either choose to not have children or for various health-related reasons cannot have children. I realize these people are in very different categories, but at the end of the day they are childless. For all the accomplishments in my life I am most proud of my children. They are rowdy, messy, often dirty and expensive. But they are also loving, intelligent, sweet and give the best hugs. My life would be nothing without my family.

In my May 26 post, I wrote about my struggles with infertility and my great desire to have a third child. I know that there are many women out there who are dreaming and wishing for just one child. That one child would be everything to these women and would complete their family. My message to you, is don’t give up.

I will never say that the dream is an easy one to achieve, but if you want to complete your family with a child then my advice to you is to keep trying. Every time I look at each of my three children I am reminded of how much they mean to me and how my family and my life are complete because of them.

So, now Matthew is home, and the sliced apples, strawberries, iPad and sports marathon have returned. The house is a bit louder and life more hectic with three kids in the house again. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

August 11, 2017

Sometimes I Need a Shot of Chocolate

Parents pass down many genetic traits to their children. It’s everything from hair and eye colour to height and hand dominance. I also believe that other traits are shared, such as athleticism and the size of their nose. Oh yeah, one more thing – the love of chocolate.

Some people are proud to come from a long line of famous rabbis or writers or doctors. For me, I come from a long line of chocolate lovers. My father loves it and my grandfather loves it. I don’t doubt his father (or mother?) before him loved this delectable treat too.

For me I don’t love just any chocolate. I am not a fan of cheap stuff with low-end ingredients. Anyone who knows me well knows that I have a particular soft spot for Cadbury. But I don’t go for just any Cadbury product in the grocery aisle. It has to be made in Great Britain, where they clearly have a special recipe with a wonderful mix of cocoa, cream and sugar.

Cadbury’s best and simplest product is Dairy Milk, which is full of rich creamy chocolatey goodness. Thanks to my Aunt Jo, who lives in Manchester, my addiction is satisfied every few months when she visits us in Toronto. Once in a while she arrives with something new and exciting, like a new flavour (like caramel or mint, wow) or a new shape or size. My mother-in-law also discovered a few years ago that British Cadbury chocolate can be secured at Duty-Free at various international airports. So, I never go long without my Dairy Milk fix.

For my father, it’s all about high quality dark chocolate. It has to have a high cocoa count (preferably 72% or higher, like even over 90%) and must be fresh. My mother always carries a small cooler bag around when they drive up to the country house or on longer road trips. She fills it with loads of dark chocolate. She feeds my father if fatigue or a snack attack sets in.

And speaking of snack attacks…do not ever get in the middle between my father and some quality chocolate when he is having a snack attack. It’s like being on a hiking trail and discovering that you are on the path between a mother bear and her cub. Dangerous.

As children, my brother, sister and I always wondered where my father stashed his “good stuff,” that really good chocolate that appeared once in a while but usually was hidden away. One day we learned the truth behind the hidden chocolate – he stashed it under his bed. It was conveniently stored so that he could easily access it at night if he needed a quick snack, and it was kept far away from the kitchen so that we couldn’t find it. Now that’s dedication (or addiction?).

The first taste of chocolate is a rite of passage in my family. I saved the first sweet bite for my children until their first birthday, and each enjoyed in their own special way. Chocolate is something to be savoured, and it takes a certain level of maturity – like turning one – to consume it.

Sometimes I just NEED some chocolate. A glass of wine or a cup of coffee just doesn’t do it for me. Give me a square of Dairy Milk or a rich piece of chocolate cake and I’m happy. And now that I have written today’s post guess what I’m about to do? You got it, I’m off to grab some chocolate.