As you can see, New Year's Eve brought Toronto a nice little snowstorm. We're still waiting for the big one though (Editor's note for the Californians reading: I mean big snowstorm, not big earthquake). Today it's 2006, but the weather is still pretty much the same. Well, what do you know?
Last night Ms. Wendy and I ordered a pizza from Vesuvios and watched not one but two DVDs (this on the biggest party night of the year--are we almost ready to be parents or what?), "Kinsey," a movie we rented three times, even paid late fees on once, but just got around to watching. Very interesting. We also watched a movie called "Pancho Villa" with Antonio Banderas--who else?--that was kind of dumb like most Antonio Banderas films are. Then, having just barely been able to withstand boring Banderas without falling asleep, Ms. Wendy and I stood out on the balcony pictured above to greet the new year. It was amazing to hear people screaming "Happy New Year!" from all these balconies around here. "What a strange custom," Ms. Wendy said. I agreed.
I always feel fresh and filled with potential on New Year's Day. Don't you? The other things I always do is watch the Rose Bowl (well, at least I did before it was moved to January 4...and the Rose Parade now on Jan. 2? Wow, how postmodern is that?) and remember the time (or times) my grandmother BamBea made French Onion soup with a piece of toast floating in it. This would have been around 1969 or 1970. I seem to remember her saying it's the tradition. Now I'm not sure who's tradition it is...but even though I haven't had any French Onion soup on New Year's Day since then, I do think of it as my tradition. Yum.
Happy New Year!
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