My Day With Justin Trudeau
Back in May, Justin Trudeau was visiting Seattle. Erik Lacitis a journalist with the Seattle Times had an interesting article asking readers to write in and describe their ideal day with Mr. Trudeau. My friend saw it and sent it to me saying I had to submit something. So I did. And I never heard a word about it.
I recently came across my submission in the nether regions of my laptop while searching for an old image. I wrote it before my Mom passed away. I thought you all might enjoy it. 🙂
6:07 am: I hear a knock on the door. I open it to greet a tired, but friendly Sophie and Justin Trudeau. I apologize for asking them to come so early, but I’m early by nature. They’re so kind and accommodating about it all because they are Canadian by nature.
I offer them a cup of local coffee, and they take it gratefully. Both remark it is better than Tim Horton’s, but can’t proclaim such blasphemy in Canada. I assure them it is our secret.
We exchange pleasantries about the weather (stunning. They’re surprised. Where is all the rain that Seattle is supposed to have?), and their trip so far. They compliment the food they have sampled and rave about the gorgeous views of the Puget Sound. They ask me about the crazy mix of gardens they walked through to get to my front door. I explain that I’m an aggressive “micro farmer” and grow more than half of our family’s produce for the year. We live on less than one-fifth of an acre, but we harvest an immense amount of fresh veg and fruit; especially during the summer months. I take them out for a tour of the gardens and our chicken coop – Downton Eggey
– and we collect eggs for breakfast.
As I cook them my famous scrambled eggs (the secret ingredients are a ton of dried dill, a bit of lemon pepper, and a pinch of garlic salt), I segue the garden and coop tour into a conversation about global climate change, and I applaud them for the efforts that Canada has taken to cut carbon emissions and pollution. I slice up homemade bread
made from wheat from the Palouse and give them strawberry jam
we canned last year from Sequim strawberries. Many dignitaries are given boring regional tours; I aim to introduce them to Washington through food.
I ask them about life in Ottawa. They tell me stories about their kids, and we laugh in the shared silliness of parents with young kids. Justin asks me about my job, and I giggle awkwardly because it is still hard to explain what it is I do. I used to work for a medical non-profit for seven years, but I quit in early 2016 when I had our second child. Between the cost of daycare for two kids, and taking care of my disabled parents who live with my husband and me, my work and commute were getting in the way. I share that I am a food/DIY/gardening blogger who writes about a little of everything and a lot of nothing.
Sophie asks about my parents, and I tell them that my mom has MS and advanced stage cancer. We talk about the health care systems in each of our countries, and I tear up thinking about how good hospice, funded through Medicare, has been to my mom. Justin gives me a hug and lets me cry on his shoulder. I linger a bit too long.
Sorry, not sorry.
I know they are extremely busy, so I thank them for coming all this way to see me. So they truly understand how grateful I am, I thank them in the proud Canadian tradition of peppering my sentences with apologies for being an inconvenience. I send them off with a goodie bag of homemade snacks and treats, and wish them a safe and enjoyable ferry ride. We kiss on both cheeks. I linger a bit too long with Justin.
Sorry, not sorry.
After they leave, I head to my kitchen and do what always makes sense after a big moment in my life. I start to bake. I quickly develop a recipe for delicious breakfast treats. I post it later on my blog with the title “Stud Muffin”. It is full of maple syrup and tastes like kindness.