So, if you keep up with our facebook page (which I am assuming you do if you are reading this blog…if not, get there now), you will note our safe return from the sea of green. We got to go to the Grey Cup Festival, and I can’t even begin to express how much fun it was. The province was so green that I almost thought that it was summer time again… Just kidding! It was almost -30 every day. But seriously…that province is all about the Roughriders. I couldn’t turn my head without seeing more green. Even the lights outside of our hotel were green.
We went with the Calgary Grey Cup Committee, who have been going every year to the Grey Cup since 1948. They hosted two different pancake breakfasts this year, serving around 3000 people the first day, and close to 3500 on Friday. Allowing those pancakes to leave my hands and go not-to-my-mouth was one of the harder things that I have done in my life. (Read on to learn the hardest…)
We also got to go visit a local elementary school, where I was schooled in dancing by children one fifth of my age. I choose to think that they were laughing with me. Speaking of people who schooled me in dancing, Carly put on another flawless performance for the kids, doing a traditional jingle-dress dance. She also tried to teach me how to do it… we have decided that we are well suited to our roles of dancer and supporter, respectively.
The Grey Cup Committee also continued their tradition of checking a horse into a local hotel.
Yeah, you read that right.
This year the horse took an extra tour through both a bar, and a local BMO branch. I was able to ride him a bit (read: sit on him while he stood like a statue) in the bank, and I have a feeling that it might be one of those ‘once in a lifetime’ things… Good thing I got a picture.
Other things that I got a picture of: me getting screeched in.
While we were traveling the Festival rooms, we went into the Atlantic Schooners room to see what was up… and well, they have this crazy tradition in Newfoundland of being ‘screeched in‘. (FYI: I did not actually drink the screech…the gentleman in front of me was kind enough to offer to drink it for me. His facial expression really let me know how much he enjoyed it…)
Let me preface this next story: I have this GIANT AND TOTALLY RATIONAL fear of fish. From minnows to piranhas, I fear them all. Like, I won’t even go swimming without somebody else because I am so scared of touching them. This phobia is obviously a sign that I am a more highly evolved individual.
We had just been introduced by the host of the room, and were on our way into the crowd when we heard them invite one of us up onto the stage. I was the closest, so I climbed the stairs not knowing what was about to happen…and that’s when I saw it. The Fish. Just staring at me, with that frozen, horrible expression waiting to give me the kiss of death. I was sixth in line, and with every step forward, I felt his evil fishy-spirit becoming more and more vengeful as he watched his corpse being kissed by strangers… As I knelt down to kiss him, it came to a crux… a drop of frozen fish-juice was headed straight to my knee. A combination of fear and cat-like reflexes enabled me to avoid The Fish’s last act of evil on this planet, and saved my jeans from irreparable damage. (Ok, it would have come out in the wash, but whatever.) Then, I leaned in for the kiss. Or rather, I leaned back, and that fish came at me like a wrecking ball… the lady holding it was not about to let me fake it, apparently. The hardest thing that I have ever done was not actually kissing the fish, but repressing the blood-curdling scream and fear-tears that wanted to come after.
I can honestly say that despite facing my fear, I have not overcome it. There is no truth to that saying.