This feat is a bit of a “cheat” since it is not a completely novel experience.  I have been volunteering with the Canadian Mental Health Association – Niagara Branch Speakers’ Bureau since 2008.  However, for someone who lives with and speaks about mental illness, both my own and that of my older son, every talk is a feat in and of itself; two of the most difficult situations are rolled together as the inherently anxiety-producing public speaking focuses on personal stories about a very stigmatized topic.

The other novelty of this talk is its emphasis not on my experiences living with mental illness, but as the parent of a young adult son who is dealing with his diagnosis of bipolar disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, and panic disorder. It is only the second time I have spoken from this perspective; the first time was at last year’s Speak OUT event that was accompanied by an article my son and I participated in for the St. Catharines Standard (http://www.stcatharinesstandard.ca/2014/10/22/mom-students-to-talk-about-mental-illness). In the year since that article was published, we have continued our journey together, punctuated by ups and downs along the way.

The other part of the feat was that I was given the privilege to present as part of a panel of courageous, amazing students who told their own stories of challenges with mental illness including depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, and obsessive compulsive disorder. In advance of the evening event, the four of us met and shared a little about our experiences with each other and I felt an immediate kinship with them. Brett and Steph are undergraduate students  who, despite significant challenges, convey a message of positivity, hope, and resilience. Lauren, a fellow graduate student at Brock, was someone I knew from participating in her Master’s research about individuals living well with mental illness. She is currently working on her PhD in the area, further exploring the model she developed in her Master’s thesis in partnership with the mental health unit at the Niagara Health System. She is also a participant in her own research, living with her own mental illness while she completes her academic studies.

The event included a short presentation from each of us about our experiences, a panel discussion answering some common questions about stigma and stress as well as ideas regarding how to support family, friends, or colleagues who may be dealing with mental health challenges and, how to maintain self-care in these supportive roles.  Questions from the audience and the online viewers rounded out the night.

Reading this blog, you might wonder why anyone would choose to expose their personal struggles to 100 strangers (not to mention the faceless audience who joined us through online live stream). My fellow presenters expressed reasons that mirror my own: if one person can be reassured, supported, encouraged to seek help, or just feel less alone as a result of hearing our stories, we are more than compensated for any discomfort we may feel. I was especially impressed by the maturity displayed by these students in their 20’s and early 30’s who were, as I told them, decades ahead of me in their ability to embrace their mental health challenges and work to help others.

The end of the night was punctuated by individuals who approached us to thank us for speaking out; they share their own stories – some tears were shed and many hugs given and received.

As I walked to my car, I called Christian to tell him about the experience. I told him that I had updated my speech just before the presentation to include the most recent update to our journey which had occurred the very morning of the event when Christian decided he was ready to access supports through the Canadian Mental Health Association – Niagara Branch. The smile on his face when he emerged from his intake meeting was the only confirmation I needed to reaffirm that the timing of events is often not coincidental. As I told the audience, it was a new ray of hope in a world where we must never give up hope.

I am dedicating this feat to Brett, Steph, and Lauren who reminded me that the courage of good people is all we need to change the world. For those who may not have had the opportunity to attend or watch Speak OUT online, the recorded event is available at: http://brockvideocentre.brocku.ca/videos/video/189/

Next up: returning to the other side of the table: my job search

While I don’t play an instrument, am a little rhythm-challenged, and, as my kids can attest, cannot carry a tune in a bucket, music has always had a very special place in my heart. Good music just seems to connect directly to my soul and attending live concerts has come to be one of my favourite activities.

There is, however, a decided difference between being an enthusiastic audience member and participating in the creation of the music – I can feel the beat, but not necessarily keep the beat! Nonetheless, when I saw the flyer for a drumming circle event, I decided to stretch myself a little beyond my normal comfort zone by adding it as my next fabulous feat.

The drumming circle was being sponsored by the Canadian Mental Health Association – Niagara Branch and when I arrived at the location, I discovered that the majority of participants were service users of CMHA, and their service workers. Two Brock University students who had heard about the event and came to check it out rounded out the group of about 20 people.

The chairs were arranged in a circle, with a variety of exotic-looking drums, tambourines, maracas, and wooden instruments displayed in the centre.  I sat at a chair between two gentlemen who were talking to another man at the head of the circle (if there is such a thing) about musical instruments, adaptors, and other details that escaped my limited understanding. I confess I started to get a little nervous about my non-musicianship status among some clearly experienced participants. A feeling washed over me that took me back to my grade 7 music class where cringe worthy noises escaped my recorder, no way resembling “Mary Had a Little Lamb”.

I looked around the room as the other participants took their seats and was somewhat relieved to see similar expressions of discomfort on some other faces; a couple of individuals were turned slightly away from the circle, suggesting the possibility of fleeing was not out of the question. I felt a kinship with them.

Once everyone was settled, the man at the front of the circle addressed us: he said his name was Mark (Chino) and he had been drumming for over 15 years and working as a drum therapist-educator since 2005. He explained that everyone could create music, and that the workshop was about the joy of connecting with others and expressing ourselves through non-verbal communications, sharing a sacred space of trust, love and truth.  His voice was gentle and his smiling face invited us to let go of our fear and embrace the experience.

After his explanation, Mark invited us to select an instrument, but also acknowledged the legitimacy of choosing the role of listener.  Most participants picked an instrument from he middle; I selected a maraca with, I admit, a bit of trepidation.  A couple of people decided to sit quietly and observe the process – without judgment.

Over the next hour we learned a few rhythms, practiced together in unison, then in succession around the circle, first with eyes open, and then with eyes closed, using our sense of hearing to know when to take our turn.  Mark lead us, encouraged us, celebrated us, throughout. I observed the comfort within the group grow as we started to work together. One man, who had initially been an observer, decided to tap his knee as we moved around the circle. When someone suggested that we change up our instruments by passing them to the person on our left, I was happy to accept the wooden block and even more pleased to see that those who had not chosen to use instruments actively accepted those that were given to them.

At the break we had a chance to talk about the experience so far. I talked to one participant about feeling “in tune” with the group and he told me about an experiment where pendulum clocks will, over time, synchronize in an “odd kind of sympathy” to each other because of the sound pulses. It was a nice analogy for me: while we all were from different situations and perspectives, through music, we came together. The music we created was the concrete representation of the connection we had made.

In fact, the use of music for joining groups together for healing dates back to ancient civilizations.  Today, studies of music therapy have suggested that it can be used to enhance treatment for such health issues as depression by improving individuals’ moods and allowing people to engage with each other in ways that words cannot convey (http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/232150.php).

In the second half of the workshop, Mark accentuated our collaborative musical compositions with drums, bamboo flute, and the haunting sound of the didgeridoo. With each new song we created, our comfort with each other increased; the smiles multiplied, formerly hesitant participants leaned into the group. I surprised even myself when I noticed that once I became lost in the music, I was also able to keep the beat.

As we concluded our session, the man to my left told me he was inspired to start playing music again; the gentleman to my right was still humming a tune as I said goodbye. I walked to my car with not just another fabulous feat under my belt, but with a sense of calm, a smile on my face and a skip in my step.

Next up: Speaking Out about mental health

You can’t turn on the news these days without hearing about the dire state of our environment, especially related to climate change. It is hard to believe it is still a topic being debated when all the science points to the almost irretrievable world situation.

While there are lots of people who spend their time talking and lamenting, there are also those that dig in (pun intended) and do something about it. My latest feat allowed me to spend a morning with a group of local eco-heroes making their positive difference in the world: Greening Niagara (greeningniagara.ca).

Greening Niagara (GN) began in 2006 as Climate Action Niagara and currently provides eco-education in action to foster lifestyle changes that support heathier, resilient communities and reduced carbon footprints. As a volunteer-driven, non-profit organization, Greening Niagara collaborates with community stakeholders (municipalities, businesses, school boards, faith-based organizations, and other non-profits and charities) in community initiatives that positively impact our environment. These programs include community gardens, gardening and canning workshops, eco-speakers and film series, and an annual one day event called Eco-Fest Niagara.

I had the privilege of joining the GN volunteers for their autumn planning day. This was my first experience with tree planting other than for my own landscaping at home. I was aware that trees reduce our carbon footprint by absorbing carbon dioxide to produce oxygen, but I also learned that planting trees that are native to an area support and preserve the environment and its biodiversity.

Our planting area was along Merritt Trail in St. Catharines. Despite living in Niagara for almost 30 years, I wasn’t familiar with the pathway until now. The Welland Canal Society built the trail, which was completed in 1986. It begins in south St. Catharines at Bradley Street and stretches through to Martindale Road in the west. The trail is bicycle, dog-walking, and pedestrian-friendly, although, the 11 kilometres are not continuous so it is recommended that walkers download a map before starting out (http://www.stcatharines.ca/en/playin/MerrittTrail.asp).

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I arrived, but it was a crisp, sunny day and I knew that, if nothing else, I would enjoy being outside on a beautiful Fall morning. I met the tireless Executive Director, Jane Hanlon, as she headed out to place signs directing the volunteers to the site.  My first task was to watch for the trees that Land Care Niagara Stewardship Coordinator, Olivia, was delivering for planting.

I spent the next two hours along with about a dozen other volunteers getting the maple and tulip trees introduced to their new homes. I worked with Olivia untangling two beautiful, root-bound tulip trees from their plastic pots.  During this time, I also watched and listened to the others as the worked. From one volunteer, I learned about the problems with the clay soil that we were planting in that necessitated an infusion of richer soil in order for the trees to prosper.  Jane showed us how to make vertical cuts around the root mass in order to disrupt the roots that were spiraled and compacted by the pot before placing them in the freshly dug holes.

I learned that several of the volunteers were Brock University students who were in various programs – Recreation and Leisure Studies, Concurrent Education, Applied Disabilities Studies (accompanied by a young woman with whom she was working) and Public Health (completing an internship with GN). In addition, there were community members interested in giving back and improving their region- some were long-term volunteers with GN; others, like me, were brand new to the group. The energy from the group was contagious, with lots of laughing and talking amid the digging and planting.

All the trees were planted by noon and we returned io our homes and to our own various Saturday afternoon activities. I drove home with the smell of Fall in my hair and rich black soil under my nails. Another fantastic feat accomplished with multiple positive results: a couple of hours of sunshine, exercise, and good company; the opportunity to make my community a little more eco-friendly; and the discovery of a brand-new place to go with my buddies, Murphy (my Golden-Doodle), his friend Ted (my Shih-Tsu), and their frequent companion Keane (The Navigator’s Jack Russell Terrier mix) – winners all around!

Next up: Participating in a Drumming Circle with Canadian Mental Health Association – Niagara Branch.

I have never been to a psychic or had my palm, tea leaves, or cards read, but I have always been curious about the experience. My intrigue was fueled by watching episodes of The Amazing Kreskin as a child, and my Mom’s uncanny ability to guess the “secret square” on Hollywood Squares more often than could be explained by chance.

When I mentioned my interest to my sons, the younger, Mr. Science, rolled his eyes and pointed to the million dollar reward offered for anyone who could prove paranormal, supernatural, or occult powers that had remained unclaimed for more than 20 years. My older son, while skeptical, was willing to accompany me on my psychic adventure, albeit only when lured with the promise of lunch following the reading.  I didn’t know any psychics, so I again used the internet to find a local seer.  My search brought me to Jewelee (askjewelee.com) who has been a psychic medium for over 25 years, and owns a new age shop in Niagara Falls from which she does readings, when not on the road at conventions and expos.

I originally intended my psychic adventure to take place a week earlier, but discovered Jewelee was in demand, requiring me to book more than a week in advance. The anticipation made the feat all the more fun.  Jewelee’s shop is in a little house on Victoria Avenue in Niagara Falls. We met her at the door and I liked her immediately – she had a welcoming smile and a down-to-earth style. As we got ready for the reading, she returned to the counter to give her rescue parrot some sunflower seeds to keep him occupied, noting that he was prone to swearing when feeling anxious. I felt an immediate kinship to him.

We decided to explore relationships, work, health, and finances in the session. While I won’t reveal all of the specifics of her reading, I can say that she suggested I would find engaging employment in the next 6 months, that I would not move house for at least the next 9 months, and I would not have financial or health problems for the foreseeable future.

She also did a quick read for my son. In this case she talked about his career aspirations, suggesting that he was on the right track, but approaching it from the wrong angle. They discussed his ideas (he is creating table top gaming) and that he is trying to “leap to the top” when his success will come from keeping it small and introducing it locally. He actually appreciated the new direction, whether psychically channeled or not.

Jewelee also read cards for my younger son, observing that he had high expectations for himself, and warning me to watch that he wasn’t too hard on himself if he didn’t reach his ideal. Ha, Mr. Science, she read you well!

In the end, I don’t know if Jewelee had psychic abilities, but, regardless, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. And my older son walked away feeling a sense of renewal with respect to his gaming design work that no amount of advice or support from his mother could have provided. As for me, a little positive reinforcement as I look for full-time employment for the first time in 27 years, whatever its source, is more than welcome. All in all, I would say that was a feat well accomplished.

Next up: It is another one of those spontaneous weeks where I am confident that the feat will reveal itself to me in due course.

Shortly after my 50th birthday, I received a letter in the mail from Cancer Care Ontario presenting me with the opportunity for another novel experience: my first mammogram. If you read my previous blog on my anxiety with people entering my peripersonal space (see # 7 Mind Over Makeover), you would understand that this feat was not at the top of my “love to do” list.  However, after reading the brochure which accompanied my letter, I realized that it needed to be on my “must do” list.

While I have had close family members who have died from cancer, including my Mom, breast cancer was not the cause. It was not until I read the brochure that accompanied the letter that I was stunned to learn that not only is more than 80% of breast cancer found in women over the age of 50, most of the women diagnosed have NO family history of the disease  (https://www.cancercare.on.ca/pcs/screening/breastscreening/). Nonetheless, it took me over two months of reshuffling the letter from the kitchen counter, to the dining room table, and back to the kitchen before I picked up the phone to book an appointment; I think it was a combination of avoidance and our tendency to relegating self-care to the back burner at play.

I had heard horror stories from other women about the procedure – painful machination involving the squishing of the  ta-tas into torturous equipment by Nurse Rached look-alikes.  On the morning of the appointment, I admit to being a little nervous. As it turned out, the procedure was both swift and, while somewhat uncomfortable, surprisingly painless. The technician explained the process in advance: four x-rays would be taken (two per breast, horizontal and vertical) using a machine with a plastic plate that pressed the breast in place for a few seconds while the x-ray was taken. The whole procedure would take less than 10 minutes. My technician was gentle and skilled and, fortunately, my proximal anxiety was minimal that day so, while I felt a little like Wham, Bam, Thank You Ma’am, it was more Dean Martin and less Urban Dictionary.

For all my half century girlfriends, I highly recommend that you take up the mantle of this particular feat. It is estimated that every year, 9,000 women in Ontario are diagnosed with breast cancer; unfortunately, almost 2,000 will still die from it.  The upside is that breast cancer mortality continues to decline, likely due to both screening and better treatments. I can tell you that while the “Wham, Bam” wasn’t the most enjoyable feat, I wholeheartedly support the  “Thank You Mamm-ogram” mantra.

Next up: a tarot card reading (delayed by a week due to high demand for psychic Jewelee).

When I began to identify my 50 feats, I purposefully wanted to include some volunteer activities that allow me to give back to my wonderful community. So, when I received a notice that the Heritage Park Playground Build Committee was seeking volunteers for their community build day, I was eager to sign up. I didn’t know much more about it other than there was a need for a large number of volunteers and that I was to wear comfortable clothes and closed-toed shoes. Since there was no call for work boots I thought it was likely safe to assume they weren’t seeking skilled labour and, as my son (who knows my construction skill level) suggested, probably needed someone to hand out water to the real workers.

I arrived at 8:00 a.m. to find vast numbers of volunteers already  registered and the playing field separated into work stations – mulch pile towering at the edge, equipment pieces ready for assembly, skids of sod ready to roll (out). We all enjoyed a coffee, then, donning our “Let’s PLAY” volunteer shirts, were assigned to our project group based on the sticker on our name tags. I was an apple and joined a group of high school seniors from Grimsby and their teacher.

At the work station we were met by some City of Niagara Falls maintenance workers also assigned to our group. Our task was to assemble two benches and a table, which sounds easy until they showed us the boards that needed to be measured, drilled with precision holes that fit the steel frames, and bolted together. They brought out the power drills, t-squares and levels; it was at this point that it became clear to me that my group assignment had been a random act in no way based upon my skill sets.

The City employees, Dan and John, seeing my obvious discomfort, and wishing to avoid all the accident forms that would surely result from placing a power tool in my hands, suggested I could paint the railings where the new Heritage Park sign would be hung, and ensured further avoidance of potential liability by sending their colleague Corey along with me. While we painted (I did the bottom half where mistakes were less likely to be noticed), the other groups worked their magic and, little by little, the playground equipment was assembled, placed into each designated area, and skillfully cemented into place. By 10:00 a.m. I could hardly believe the progress; It seems that 400 hands make light work.  

As I talked to other volunteers throughout the day I learned more about the project. The commuity build was a joint venture made possible by a Build it with KaBOOM Playground Grant that the City of Niagara Falls had received. KaBOOM is a non-profit organization that believes the well-being of society depends upon the well-being of its children, and that all kids deserve an opportunity for active play; quite simply, Play Matters (https://kaboom.org/play_matters). The successful grant allowed the City to be partnered with Canada Dry Mott’s (and its parent company Dr. Pepper Snapple Group) who paid for the $140,000 project. In addition, over 100 employees of Canada Dry Mott’s, who were attending a conference in Niagara Falls, came out to participate in the build along with City and community volunteers.   The project would honestly have not been accomplished without these amazing partnerships.

In addition to painting, I took my turn at shovelling mulch into tarps that were dragged onto the playground. It was hard work and I was so impressed with the array of dedicated men and women who spent hours under the hot sun moving the mountain of mulch onto the equipment area.

At the entrance, another group of volunteers displayed their creative flair, painting the walkway with colourful flowers and rainbows, Canadian flags, four squares, hop scotch and snakes and ladders games.  The children from the adjacent school, Victoria Park, took turns having their hands painted and pressed onto the path, leaving their own special legacies. One beaming volunteer named Mohammed from Mott’s in Mississauga told me his day was made by a little girl who told him that she liked the fish he was painting. “That’s what this is all about and I’m so happy to be able to help” he smiled. Looking around, it was clear that everyone shared that feeling.

With more than 200 volunteers, we finished early – the whole 1,500-square-foot playground was completed in 6 hours! We were joined again by the Victoria Park children, who sang us a song, participated in the ribbon cutting, and gave each volunteer a handwritten thank you card as we departed.  Mine reads “Dear volunteer, I am SO glad that you are bilding the park. I am going to have so much fun on it when its bild. From Trayton.” There could be no better payment for the day’s work than these postcards. I know that Trayton, and all his friends, will have many hours of enjoyment and, whenever I drive by, I will feel just a little bit of pride at having been a small part of creating such a wonderful playground in our community.

Next up: What does the future hold? A trip to a psychic reader. (Send me a note if you want to join me).

Last week I wasn’t sure what my next feat would be.  Part of the fun of this adventure is that some activities are planned well in advance, while others can just happen in the moment.  This week’s feat fell somewhere in the middle.

My friend Annamarie and I turned 50 within a month of each other (I am younger by 21 days). At an age when having more ‘stuff’ isn’t as appealing as accumulating experiences, we both decided that part of our celebration of the half century mark would be enjoying a variety of activities, some of which we had in common. I have never been horseback riding, so that was one for me; Annamarie wanted to take a ride from Queenston Heights to Niagara-On-The-Lake. While we couldn’t quite score the location, she did find a lovely place in Port Colborne called HorsePlay Niagara that offered trail riding through the woods and along the Fort Erie beach and invited me to join her as a birthday present.

Half the adventure was getting there; the only thing potentially worse than having me as the driver is assigning me with the role of navigator.  Thankfully, my friend is both patient and has a great sense of humour, and so we arrived at our destination still smiling, despite my helpful directions (“I think that was where we were supposed to turn”).

We signed our waivers, reviewed the “do not’s” (which included not putting on makeup while riding – apparently a real-life example from a previous ride) and picked out our riding helmets.

I love animals, but I have never ridden a horse before, so I was equally nervous and excited about how I would find the experience. There were five others in the group and we were all lined up and assigned our animal partners based on our “horse sense”.  My friend and one of the men had some riding experience, but the rest of us were newbies.  Lucky for me the guide knew just the horse for me and I was led to a lovely chestnut coloured beauty named Pal. He let me climb the step stool and onto his back, standing quietly in place, moving only to swipe at the flies buzzing around him. I introduced myself and rubbed Pal’s neck. When we were lined up to go out on the trail, Pal fell into step behind Annamarie’s horse, Mike.

We followed the trail guide, Ashley, over fields, through woods, around stiles, and across streets. While my friend’s mount made numerous attempts to stop and graze along the way, my Pal was to horseback riding what Google is to cars: he knew every turn, each stop, and every trot, without need of even a twitch of the rein by me.

I was so appreciative of his skill that I kept patting his neck and telling him what a good horse he was, especially when I surprisingly remained on his back at the end of each attempt at trotting. Anyone who thinks that horseback riding is not a physical activity is wrong, and probably knows how to ride decidedly better than I do.  Our guide told us it was best to stand in the stirrups and move with the horse, but I didn’t manage this very well. Each time Pal sped up, I turned into some kind of cartoon character bobbing up and down wildly, holding on for dear life. My Pal didn’t let me down, though, and I was grateful for his skill and my luck at having him.

The highlight for me was riding along the beach, and taking the horses out into the lake. It was a hot, sunny day and there is something about the view from high up on my gentle giant that made the adventure just a little surreal. Returning to the stable area, I gave Pal a pat on the neck and a heartfelt thank you before de-horsing. I was a little wobbly getting my land legs back, but beaming from the incredible adventure.

I’m still enjoying the memories (and some aches and pains) as I write about my latest feat, made better by having my friend Annamarie and my Pal along for the ride. And, now I totally understand why John Wayne walked that way.

Next up: Building a playground.

In my last blog I indicated that Feat # 7 was to be a “Makeup Makeover.”  Again, this activity may not be much of an achievement for most, but, for me, it is both a feat and a first. I have always been a little uncomfortable with things that might be seen as self indulgent – probably my Scottish Presbyterian roots – but my avoidance of such things as makeovers, massages, and the like wasn’t really about extravagance; my anxiety was the true reason for turning down these opportunities in the past.

Many people deal with claustrophobia, but my anxiety ran just a little deeper. Since childhood, I have dealt with enormous fear when anyone enters my personal space, particularly around my face.  I was equally as white knuckled gripping the chair in the hair salon as I was at the dentist.  I would have to focus all my energy to stay seated, to minimize the trembling, to not simply get up and run.  The anxiety was worse than any physical hurt could have been (although, I am pretty sure from what I can remember that childbirth was no picnic either). When other people spoke of the fun of getting a facial or having their makeup professionally done, I dismissed it as “just not my thing,” but the truth is that, for me, it would have been more torturous than luxurious.

I thought that I was the only person who dealt with such an odd anxiety, but, recently, I discovered some research related to peripersonal space (that is the scientific term for the space around our bodies that people consider to be psychologically theirs) and anxiety.  Not surprisingly, those individuals who live with anxiety have larger peripersonal spaces than those who do not,¹ especially for the high-risk area around the face. For those with higher anxiety, threats were perceived as closer than was the case for non-anxious subjects, despite the stimuli being the same distance away; anxious individuals had a larger defensive peripersonal space. Maybe I wasn’t the only person sweating it out at the hair salon after all.

As an adult, I have dealt with my anxiety through both medical (I take medication for depression and anxiety) and nonmedical means (I have learned anxiety-reducing strategies such as breathing techniques, visualization and meditation). I still get the occasional tremor when I am sitting in the hairstylist’s chair, but I also find myself able to somewhat enjoy the experience.

So, when I was putting together my list of feats, I decided that I would include one that would celebrate my ability to manage my defensive peripersonal space by having a professional makeup lesson.  And, what better time to get tips and tricks for looking my best than as I step over that half century line.

Accompanied by my dear friend Liz, I tentatively approached the reception desk of a local salon and signed up for a little self indulgence. For over an hour, I let the lovely Adriana pamper me. Not only did I have my makeup done, I also had my eyebrows shaped and a mini-facial. Whew!

I am happy to report I only had a couple of moments of anxiety – and that was mostly because my “smoky eyes” made me look more surprised than sultry, suggesting Nora Desmond rather than Gisele Bündchen (I’m ready for my close up Mr. DeMille).

The verdict on my latest feat: interesting to try, and, though likely a not regular occurrence for me in the future, a definite triumph. Now, if I could just learn to relax at the dentist…

Next up: I have no idea what next week will bring.  My first surprise feat awaits (and fortunately, I have just the makeup for that).

¹Sambo, C. F., Forster, B., Willams, S. C., & Iannetti, G. D. (2012). To blink or not to blink: Fine cognitive tuning of the defensive peripersonal space. The Journal of Neuroscience, 32(37):12921–12927; doi:10.1523/JNEUROSCI.0607-12.2012

After the physicality of my last adventure walking around the Isle of Wight, I decided that Feat #6 needed to be just a little slower – in fact, you might say, at a snail’s pace.  Growing up in a home where exotic cuisine meant adding paprika to the top of the deviled eggs, my hesitation to try “different” foods was ingrained in me early. So, when I was developing my list of novel experiences, I decided there had to be at least one eating-related adventure.

Thanks to my good friend Liz, I discovered the location for my feat once again in my own backyard: Paris Crepes Café (http://www.pariscrepescafe.com/) on Queen Street in Niagara Falls.  I was also excited to extend my alliteration this time to include Feats with Friends and Family as my older son joined in the fun along with Liz, Les, and Lee-Anne (you can see how this group was meant to be, can’t you?).

While the feat involved my first taste of escargot, the experience was so much more. The bistro was amazing – the décor was charming, and we were greeted by the lovely Manager Starr who was also our server for our lunchtime adventure. She was a complete delight, immediately catching on to the silliness of our group experience and easily joining us on the journey.

There was much laughter and fun (apologies to the other diners there for a quiet lunch) and, yes, I ordered their Escargot Bouguignons En Croute (puff pastry crusted snails in garlic butter). They were almost too beautiful to eat, but we shared the snails among us. Even my son, whose culinary upbringing was not dissimilar to my own with regard to exotic choices, joined in.

My verdict: the snail itself wasn’t what dazzled my taste buds – I suspect that is the point of all the garlic butter and pastry. We enjoyed the rest of our meal (French onion soup, delicious crepes), watched Les mourn the disappearance of his much-too-small Crème Brule and I enjoyed French press coffee, all the while chatting, laughing, and simply having the best time together.

As the only patrons left as the mid-day closing time approached, we had the opportunity to chat more with Starr, learning about her return to school for veterinary training, her love of cats, and current foster kittens; photos and stories were exchanged and enjoyed (even my dog-lover heart melted at the pictures of her tiny feline treasures).

I definitely declare Feat #6 a rousing success. Akin to the snails, made extra special by the accompanying ingredients in their dish, this feat was fabulous because of my surroundings: a beautiful sunny afternoon in a lovely café with good friends and family sharing laughter and a meal.  Honestly, who could ask for more?

Next up: Time for a makeup makeover.