New Years Eve in Ottawa. A Katimavik morning: breakfast of bagels and cream cheese, we go skating on Lac Brassard, play Blokus, lunch is bagels and cream cheese, the girls play School and Aurora is the strict teacher. Dinner at my grandmother Shirley’s: salty nostalgic pizza from my childhood joint, Colonnade, ice cream cake, the girls swim in the echoey saltwater pool (game: Aurora is the butterfly queen and floats around shouting “Princesses! Emergency!” and then they come save her from sinking. Zadie goes in up to mid ankle and declares “I swim.“) Hopefully Shirley enjoys the clamour of four roustabouts in her usually peaceful home.
Tova is so tired upon getting home that she lies down on the kitchen floor and starts falling asleep. But first we must fulfill the ageless tradition of smashing and devouring the gingerbread house. Zadie is given a priceless meat tenderiser which comes from her Norwegian great-great-grandmother. She taps the house incredibly gently, then it’s Tova’s turn, she winds up and just obliterates the house in a single thunderous blow (it has never been more appropriate that Tova is the feminine of Thor, she’s wielding a Norse hammer for Odin’s sake!!) Sophia and Aurora get to break up the remnants but it’s all over. We eat house, it is of course delicious.
Tova, Zadie and Tamar (who was woken by a 2yo at 5 am) fall asleep in minutes. We others watch the hapless Ottawa Senators get thumped by Columbus, then Canada’s junior team lose to the Russians. We drink cognac and answer Sophia’s endless questions about hockey.
Tamar joins us for awhile but decides to stay in with the sleeping girls to give me the chance to see fireworks (which I love). My parents, Aurora, Sophia and I head over to the Rideau Canal, hoping it won’t be too thronged at 11:30pm on NYE.
In fact, it is utterly deserted. It’s spooky - we are virtually alone on the world’s longest skating rink! We start down the ice in wind and sleet. The girls are joyous and fall down a lot. At Patterson’s Creek our spirits soar when we see the friendly lights of a Beavertail stand, but tragically it’s closed. We celebrate the happy moment on the Canal in driving sleet, wrapped in ethereal grey mist with only three other people in sight.
Most annoyingly, the promised fireworks do not materialise. We wait around for 15 minutes, then start the trudge skate back down the Canal. And then a blast that we feel through our chests - they’re on! We all gawk at extremely close and powerful fireworks, a fantastic show, and a glorious start to the new year. At 1am the girls are finished their cocoa and reluctantly head to bed. Aurora perkily said “New Year’s is officially my favourite day of the year!”
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| Zadie has a fashion model stare |
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