Evidence that after seven years of marriage, my Hubbibi and I are OLD

Hi everyone,

Thanks for all your good wishes! Sean and I had our li’l getaway, and it was really, really nice.

AND, it was perfect for retirees.                Huh?

We went to check in at our B&B, which is a beautiful house in the country run by a very nice guy named Shane. It has a nuttily eclectic mix of decor, and is “canine-friendly” to the point of having a dog bath that magically folds out of the wall – for guest use. (Not sure whether you + dog counts as double occupancy.)

That evening, we went for Indian food in town, and then saw a movie. You know, like a date. And my date, even though he has been wanting to take me to see Batman (I mean, The Dark Knight Rises) ever since he saw it the first time with the guys, looked at the movie listings and suggested we might want to see something more anniversarial. (Well, he didn’t actually use that, um, word.) Very sweet of him, n’est-ce pas? So we saw Hope Springs.


That’s Meryl Streep and Tommy Lee Jones trying to reignite the spark of their 31-year marriage. Steve Carell plays the marriage counselor who works on it with them.

We both liked it a lot: Streep and Jones are both just wonderfully talented; there were lots of really chuckly moments; there were also quite a few poignant ones; Steve Carell is uncharacteristically subdued but sincere in his role – and we felt it worked for him. And it was interesting, and probably a good exercise, to look at our young little marriage and imagine it in 24 years. To say, “We’ll always have real conversations together, right? We would notice if we somehow stopped touching each other, right?” And to feel confident that, thanks to the Robot-Face, we will always share a bed.

The sorta funny thing about our date was that we were two out of – at the most, not exaggerating – six people under forty in the theatre. We had a bit of a laugh at our own expense about that.

So then we retired (oops, no pun intended) to our digs for the night, where we had a wild evening that included a down-and-dirty game of Gin on the covered veranda, to the strains of spa versions of 80s rock ballads, with some complimentary red wine for Sean and some complimentary ice for Di. The playing cards were complimentary too. Boo-yah.

Here’s what else we liked about the establishment where we stayed:

  • The bed, which had a crazy pillow top that took ALL the pressure off ALL our joints and pregnant bellies;
  • The bath mat, which was super-squishy;
  • The peace and quiet;
  • The warm hospitality (Shane was all like, “If you need anything, just holler”);
  • The bucolic view from our window;
  • The yummy breakfast!

If I ever ran a B&B, I would totally serve this kind of awesomeness: coffee, orange juice, greek-style yogurt (we both chose strawberry), a big bowl of fruit (especially berries), homemade granola, and enormous croissants fresh from the oven, with raspberry jam that somehow tasted like Christmas. I LOVE BREAKFAST.

Shortly thereafter, we were off for our Grand River luncheon cruise. Okay, it was midday on a Friday, but come on – I’m pretty sure there was only one other person there under 40, and maybe half-a-dozen under 50. Apparently, Sean and I are now confirmed senior citizens, just without the discounts.

It was a relief to have the entertainment before the cruise, because I’m confident all four members of The Blazing Fiddles are in our age range – tripled our numbers – and they are super-talented as well. They pretty much brought the house down (insofar as the nice elderly crowd could make that kind of ruckus) and, despite reportedly performing to similar crowds six days a week through the summer season, seemed to be having a ton of fun doing it. We totally bought the CD.

The cruise was beautiful, too. Tranquil, relaxing, breezy, and the lunch was reasonably good. We enjoyed the Captain’s sporadic narration of the trip, although the geek in both of us would have appreciated more detailed history/geography commentary. And everyone aboard was a good sport about it when we had to do an emergency docking to transfer one passenger of considerably advanced age to an ambulance (seems it was a fairly minor case of heat exhaustion). Goes with the territory, I guess.

The best thing about our getaway, actually, was how it catalyzed quality conversation with my husband. Remembering how well-matched we are, how harmonious are our respective senses of humour, how synchronized are our thoughts in so many ways. It’s pretty great.

So we enjoyed ourselves, despite having our youthfulness called into question. And it did help that on Sunday afternoon, rather than going lawn bowling, we finally did go see Batman. (Just joshin’, I’ve never lawn-bowled.)


And I’m happy to report that I have not lost my ability to appreciate fast-paced action, zinging dialogue, over-the-top bat-style inventions, and Joseph Gordon Levitt’s extreme cuteness (evident even in a gritty role without dimply smiles. He can’t help it). I didn’t even mind the car chases (which I normally hate, and did even before I was a senior citizen), because when you throw a Batmobile into the mix, it changes everything. And the movie is full of actors I love – Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, Gary Oldman (as in the two preceding films), but also JGL, Marion Cotillard, Tom Hardy, and Anne Hathaway. And I suppose Christian Bale is pretty good too.


Actually, I think Anne Hathaway as Catwoman might be my favourite thing about this movie. She simply kicks ass, on every level. There’s no other way to put it. Love her.

If I admit that there were moments during the movie that were a little too loud for me, does that make me seem more or less decrepit? You know, because I cringe from noise, or because my hearing is still so excellent?


2 thoughts on “Evidence that after seven years of marriage, my Hubbibi and I are OLD

  1. Mama says:

    You’re not old, honey! I know old. I’m not old either, really. Sabine was old, Griffin is old, Mother was old. I’m on the oldish edge of middle-age, and you are both YOUNG!!! You knew that.

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