What a lovely weekend.  And full of such lovely surprises.  Our social schedule had included a pot-luck dinner for our Kosovar family and sponsors, a wonderful play by a truly funny lady (Sandra Shamas -- Canadians should see her whenever they can!), and a fiftieth birthday party for a friend whose friends I also enjoy.   Oh, and my cousin was to come spend the afternoon, while we got a start on the web-based family tree that is our shared project over the next year or three.

Well, my cousin called and had double-booked.  I was disappointed, but I wasn't as prepared as I'd like to be, so I decided to see it as a gift from the goddess of timing.  (I don't really believe in goddesses, but they're as good an explanation as any, and if there were goddesses, I know they'd specialize.   So I cite them, specifically, as needed.)

First, the pot luck on Friday. I think there should be a law of life about pot lucks.  There are two kinds, it would go.  There is the kind that some neurotic obsessive insists on organizing so that the rights kind of foods arrive to go together and cover all the courses.  That's the kind I prefer, of course.   Then there is the kind where the person who is hosting doesn't know who is brining what, and assumes she may have to provide enough food to ensure that all guests don't go hungry.  The latter, while they make me crazy, result in the most amazing excesses of food.  Our pot luck was the latter on Friday.

It gave us a chance to meet Fehmi, the long-last Dad of this family.  He seemed tired, but happy to be with his family.  And he is a very sharp dresser!  I knew he had travelled his part of Kosovo selling fine men's clothing, but I just didn't imagine that after months in a refugee camp he'd arrive at the first social event fully decked out.  My life partner, in addition to being the perfect helpmate with the setup and running of the food organization, spent time making sure the Internet and sound system were functioning the guest room, and found an Albanian site for a radio station that allowed one to select from a large number of songs and other musical arrangements.  I know how wonderful it would be for me to hear "my music" after months of chaos, separation and confusion, most of it playing itself out in a foreign language.  And so it was for our guests.  Even the mom and dad were singing, and humming, and swaying to "their" music.  What a gift the Internet gave that night.

Yesterday, we had a dilly-dallying kind of day, during which we found a present and card for the "birthday" girl, ate leftovers from the pot-luck dinner, and got to the National Arts Centre with enough time to be relaxed and enjoy the place.  (Usually, we're just making it in before they close the doors as the curtain goes up.)  Then we went to the birthday party, where I got to see a number of people whose company I enjoy but who rarely cross professional or social paths with me. 

And my friend Janet was there with spouse Henry.  Since he's fairly new in his spouse-to-Janet role, he doesn't yet know many of her friends, but we arranged to meet here for coffee at 9:30, go off to the Gatineau park (which Henry had never seen), and then meet up with Peter and Nora for dim sum.  Doesn't get a lot better than that, but it did. 

Our neighbour/landlady and her partner (who is also a colleague of mine professionally and a good friend) were both in town.  (They also live in Toronto.  That's a long story for another time.)  Anyway, they not only booked to have dinner with us, they offered to cook! Holy moley!  And, for good measure, another friend from Toronto was in town, and arrived this evening to join us for dinner and is staying overnight with us before heading back to the big city in the morning.

The joy of being surrounded by good friends on a beautiful weekend was only heightened by the realization that I did not have ten hours of reading to do for a class on Tuesday, and that I had only manageable amounts of work to fit it (which I did, without difficulty).  It's occurring to me as I look back on a lovely weekend that has left me replenished as much as tired from our outings that weekends are  a good invention.  That there is a reason that in economically advanced countries, if we are very lucky, we get two days off from the usual routine, if not from all responsibilities and demands. 

I declare myself in favour of weekends.  Heartily in favour.   And I intend to make them part of my life whenever it is at all possible.   Which, in my non-student status, should be more often than not.  I do hope this isn't just beginner's luck.  But we make our own luck.  I want to make luck for weekends.

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