Professor K came to town today with the intention of coming out to my place in the countryside and sitting back to talk writing, our 9 to 5 and nothing at all over a bottle of Tin Roof Chardonnay (which is still chilling in my fridge) and an assortment of fine cheeses.
Rough life, I know.
Well, things did not quite go as planned. I got a message from a dear friend who made mention of one of my favourite words in the English language. She asked me if I was going to Whitby Ribfest.
Whitby Ribfest is this weekend?? How did I not know this? I plan my entire summer around Ribfests. I travel from community to community to check out their festival and to eat some delicious ribs. It is what makes the “Summer of Abbie” the summer of Abbie. I was ashamed to hear of it through another person. But I digress.
But it also raised a new dilemma. How was I to entertain the Professor and have ribs???
As I had to pick him up from the train station in Oshawa, I concocted a plan. We had exchanged our Works In Progress (WIP) a couple of weeks ago and I thought it would be nice to take him on a tour of the neighbourhood that some of the locations in my novel were based upon. My old stomping grounds in south Oshawa. The ‘Shwa.
I thought it might be neat to check it out because I hadn’t been to a couple of these locations in years. And after we saw the sights, and if he was interested of course, we could swing by Whitby Ribfest to see the sights and smell the smells and taste the tastes.
I pitched my plan to him when his train arrived and he agreed.
We set off to my old neighbourhood. My parents moved to that tiny court in 1976 and didn’t move until 1997. I spent my entire youth on that street. In that neighbourhood. It was my whole entire world and I loved it.
We drove down the court and sat in front of my old house and gazed at the giant spruce tree in the back yard. My dad planted that tree when I was 7 or 8. I would jump over it with ease as a kid. Now, standing tall at the top of the hill in the center of the yard is “Bruce the Spruce”. That’s what I named him. Give me a break, I was a kid. (I still like the name)
We left there and headed down to my old high school and the Pump House Marsh. We went to see the lake and the insanely large ships that dock there.
It is still quite picturesque. I don’t mind calling this place home.
We found ourselves down at the creek and took a stroll while I told tales of dangerous 80’s toboggan adventures and pre-teen runaways.
Afterwards we found ourselves at Cork & Bean – because of course we did. Cold Brew and Buttertarts baby! And after that……???? Why Whitby Ribfest of course!
Ribs and chicken, slushies and Pappy’s Gourmet Soda (the sweetest thing on God’s Green Earth, but oh so tasty). And cornbread! Can’t forget the cornbread!
It was a most excellent day – going on a walking tour of my WIP and capping it off with a good ol’ east end ribfest.
Tuckered out, I took the Professor to meet his train, and I head east to the quiet of the Clarington countryside.
Now, stuffed to the brim with ribs and pop, I guess I will have to have fancy grilled cheese sandwiches and chardonnay later….
I know. Rough life. ;o)