Yesterday Emily got her wish. She saw the culmination of a dream that began almost a year ago to the day. She finally got to go inside the Ding Dong Castle.
When Emily renamed Parliament Hill the Ding Dong Castle last year she was in the midst of a fascination with the place. Soon after that started she asked, continually, when we could go inside. I promised that when she was three I would take her in. With the crocuses blooming and my dad and Donna to help me out, I decided it was time.
Emily enjoyed the neo-gothic architecture, the library, the stained glass, the carvings, the marble, the splendour of it all but mostly she enjoyed the fire. The fire of 1917 that burned the place to the ground. The tour guide referred to it a few times and for Emily that was what it was all about. The stain on the sink? Must have happened during the fire. The clock on the peace tower? They put it up because of the fire. Those stairs right there? I think they used that during the fire. I was pleased that her first question was about how the people got out of the building. She had a hard time getting her mind around the fact that the buildings burned to the ground and they build new ones. That's a hard concept for the three-year-old mind it turns out. How can something that was there just disappear? Aside from the fire, the highlights for her were riding the train and bus to get there, drinking cream soda with Papa and Mummy getting a parking ticket. Damned OCTranspo and their inferior parking lot.
It was the first beautiful day of what is a beautiful week. I have flowers peeking out of the back garden, the snow pile in the front yard is well below the tree branches now and Hope spent supper with a streak of dirt across her face from her enthusiastic sliding all afternoon in the backyard.