After months of whining because Ella’s teeth were falling out of her mouth every few weeks, he finally had a loose one.

He was so excited to show me his tooth after school. Just as excitedly, he proclaimed that the tooth fairy didn’t exist.

“I know you just put the money under the pillow and throw the teeth in the garbage,” he said matter of factly.

It was clear exactly what his response had been to the teachers and other kids telling him about the tooth fairy.

Plus, he just saw the movie a few weeks ago. No pulling the wool over this kid’s eyes.

Today, I started with some leftover steak and ended up with a rich tasting chili that knocked my socks off.

Here’s what I did:

1. Chop and onion and 4-6 cloves of garlic. Saute in olive oil.

2. Add some dried red chili peppers for some heat. And a healthy dose of fresh ground black pepper. At this point, the acrid steam coming off the saute should irritate your eyes. That’s a good thing.

3. Add the spices. I was going informal today, so here’s what I did. I heard somewhere that if you hold out your hand and pour a powdered pile of spice into the very middle, that’s about a teaspoon. So, I did 3 of those teaspoons of chili and one each of cumin, oregano and cayenne. This dried up the saute and started to almost burn.

4. At that point, I poured in the remaining carton of beef broth (let’s call it half, say 2 cups) which turned all that yummy almost burning spices into a rich sauce.

5. Then, I added a cup of beer. I tasted it and, well, it had seen better days as a drinking beer. But, apparently, it still had life as a cooking beer.

6. Then I added a small tin of tomato paste, the whole thing. This really thickens and imparts a richness. And, it’s so good for you.

7. Then, the 3 day old steak went in. Cut into tiny pieces and already cooked, it didn’t need much more cooking. Really, it was just about melding the flavours.

To this point, we are running about 10-15 minutes of prep and about 30 minutes of simmering. I turned off the burner and left to pick up the kids from school. When I finally returned, after an ordeal with a nail in my van tire and a trip to the tire shop to try and get it repaired, I did the final step.

8. Add a can of red kidney beans. And, while I was at it, I thought I’d throw in some chick peas, just because I made some from scratch the previous day.

So, there you are, Jay’s Chili con Carne. Well, truth be told, I owe the inspiration for this variation to Bonnie Stern whose dog-eared Heart Smart cookbook is among my favourites (thanks SG).

The feeling in the city was electric. People were on the street daily en masse. The free public attractions brought them out, but the camaraderie kept them coming back. Even the most practiced cynics came to see something special was happening in Vancouver.

My observation was that most guests to the city didn’t get too far off the beaten track. My short walk on Saturday afternoon along Denman down to English Bay showed no signs of Olympic frenzy. Too bad really, since Vancouver is such a lovely city and so full of beauty and calm.

The EPCOR team put on an amazing show of warmth and hospitality while we were there. Kudos to all who contributed to its success.

We began our weekend on Friday morning in the EPCOR suite at the Fairmont Waterfront Hotel. They had enclosed a large balcony and placed an additional big screen TV inside so we could follow what we didn’t get to see. Even when raining outside, this balcony room was a bright and hospitable retreat from the crowded streets.

We got to see two events, the first of which was the women’s gold medal curling final featuring Cheryl Bernard’s Calgary-based team. It was a packed house and the fans were energetic and loud, but not familiar with the etiquette of a curling match. I think most of them were frustrated hockey fans – frustrated because they couldn’t get a ticket to the hockey final and looking for an opportunity to cheer for a Canadian team doing something – anything – on the ice. Among the best cheers I heard that afternoon was sort of sung as a duet with two voice, one higher and one lower:

“Jeepers creepers, where’d you get those sweepers.
Jeepers creepers, where’d you get those gals.”

It was my first curling match. I’d never seen a live match – never played and only occasionally watched on TV. But I had been watching some matches during the Olympics and I was quite impressed with both the skill level and strategic considerations that went into the game. True to form, Bernard and the Canadian team played a strong match right down to the wire. We all know how it ended. Its a bit sad that the silver medal often seems like a consolation. In team sports, the silver medal is the loser’s medal in the gold medal match. Bronze teams seem happier because they “win” the bronze.

But to Cheryl Bernard, I say thank you for engaging me in curling. I look forward to watching you play in the future.

After the curling match, our group dined at Cin Cin on Robson. Dinner was magnificent.

Saturday’s schedule included a tour to Grouse Mountain in the early part of the day (including a nice lunch at The Observatory) and then the men’s bronze medal hockey game in the evening. Since Slovakia and Finland were playing and we had one guest with Slovak ancestry, we chose to root for the Slovaks. They almost beat Canada, so it seemed like the right choice. Some of our group decided to make signs in an effort to get on camera during the game. As it turned out, the signs were no contest for the Captain Slovakia guys dressed in their read long underwear with blue shorts and a Slovakian flag cape. Nevertheless, it was an exciting game that saw Slovakia headed into the third period with a 3-1 lead. Out of nowhere, the flying Fins scored three unanswered goals in the first 10 minutes of the third and went on to win 5-3 on an empty netter. Good hockey – energetic and fun.

Dinner at Blue Water Grill followed. Gold again! The sablefish was superb. A must stop on anybody’s trip to Vancouver.

Sunday was hockey day and we all know what happened there. Luckily, I got to see my sister-in-law, niece and nephew and watch Canada win gold with my brother. Who could ask for a better way to cap aweekend?

Vancouver really showed the world what an amazing city we have there. And our Olympians rose to the occasion in many ways beyond the gold medal count.

We deserve to be proud of the culture and society we have created here in Canada. And we should be vigilant in protecting and strengthening our country’s commitment to equality, fairness and humanity. Other countries have lots to offer as well, but Canada is one of the best places to live anywhere in the world. If these Olympics increase our awareness of that fact, then they have been a success.

LA has been there since day one and will be there to the bitter end. She is working hard (no doubt, she always does), but if you have to be working then the Vancouver Olympics is a nice place to be.

She is spending time with corporate guests and entertaining (her dream job, really). She is also getting time to spend with brother Frank and family and friends James and Mark. James (pictured below with LA) has set up his own blog, at least for the duration of the games, with lots of pictures of that lovely city.

Can’t wait to get there!

Now, I know this is hockey and hockey has special status here. When fans act unsporting, we tend to put it down to them just being excited hockey fans. Booing and taunting opponents is standard fare in hockey matches, especially during emotionally charged games. But is it the way we ought to behave? Why don’t we boo the Americans when they step on the ice for the curling matches? Or, for that matter, the Norwegians and Germans when they start the Nordic events? (Who knows – maybe the dyed-in-the-wool hockey fans are out there booing the opponents while watching other sports.)

But I find this booing business in hockey to be shabby, very shabby. It almost makes you want to champion the opponents to kick Canada’s ass (thanks Team USA). I guess, to be fair, it wasn’t the players but the fans that irked me. (Sorry Team Canada. You have my loyalty again as you take on the Germans and the Russians.) And to all you boors (er, I guess I mean boo-ers), being unsporting didn’t help much, did it?

But this isn’t what’s really bothering me about the Olympics these days. Underlying this whole discussion is the topic of Canada’s Olympic performance and the poorly named Own the Podium (OTP) program. I’m not an expert on elite athletes, but this whole OTP approach seems wrong on so many fronts. Here’s why I think so:

1. Trying hard and doing your best is what matters. That’s what we tell our kids (or should be telling them anyway). If all of our elite athletes went out and tried their hardest and as many as possible achieved their personal best and we won some medals, then what else could we ask for? Performance should not be measured by medals. It should be measured by, well, performance. The nordic ski team won no medals in the 15 km event, yet four of them finished in the top 10 (when the previous best finish was 25th). That’s a huge success. But we didn’t own the podium. Jen Heil won silver and it was considered “consolation” by some in the media. Does owning the podium mean only gold is valued? There must be a more sophisticated and meaningful way to characterize our progress in achieving better results.
2. Is winning everything? Striving to own the podium may have led to some unsportsmanlike conduct before the games started. We denied some international teams access to the training facilities and resources prior to the games. The winning at all cost attitude that underlies the OTP program doesn’t really embody the Olympic spirit – or at least, my understanding of it. Or does it?
3. Why are the Olympics so nationalistic? The Olympics are arguably at the pinnacle of their influence. Beijing 2008, Vancouver 2010, London 2012 – my sense is that there will be a peak somewhere in there. (Maybe it was Beijing and we’re on the downslope now.) But the Olympics are about much more than sport and elite competition; they have become a massive business and a symbol of international cooperation. Yet I’ve found myself wondering why sport has to be so political – no, nationalistic is the word I want here. Don’t get me wrong, I am a huge fan of our Canadian athletes. But, not unlike the athletes themselves, I also have deep respect for other countries’ athletes and their achievements. What I don’t like is the way the Olympics infuses these competitions with nationalistic pride. Why does sport have to have anything to do with nations? The reasons why Canadians win go way beyond their country and culture – or for that matter Russian, German, Japanese or Korean culture. I would acknowledge that the rights and privileges (more so the latter) that our countries grants its citizens plays a role. But these athletic feats are the product of determined individuals, supportive families and well-funded political interest. Canada is one of the best places to live on this planet, but nationalism has hijacked elite sports through the Olympics and this is not necessarily a good thing. Why, for instance, should an athlete who has come out, done her best and finished fourth or fifth feel like she has “let her country down“?

In the end, the whole Olympic enterprise feels like it is being hijacked one way or another. Political and corporate interests and the Olympic movement itself. And the athletes are stuck in the middle of this. They have dedicated their lives to compete with the best of the best in games that are fair and respectful. Let’s try not to forget the athletes amid all the hype and agendas.

Oh, and if you want to own a podium, apparently they will be auctioned off after the Olympics.

With Purim approaching, many of the younger kids dressed up in costumes for the sock hop. In grade one that means girls dressed as princesses and boys dressed as superheroes. (One day I will write a post about why kids have such limited range of options to choose from when picking their costumes.)

Neither Ben nor Ella wanted to wear a costume, but they did want to dress up. Ben wore his black suit jacket with his pink shirt and jeans. Very cool. He told people he was a private eye, no doubt a reference to his recent role in the Spies in the House video.

The strange part was watching them pass into that pre-teen world that they are entering. The marketers call it ‘tween’.

It’s been happening for a while because they watch a fair amount of TV and have been imitating the tween persona in various ways – experimenting with sarcasm, realizing parents can be embarrassing sometimes, being mouthy. Ella is very independent in her fashion sense and insists on picking her outfits and dressing herself. She knows what she likes which I respect enormously in a 6 and a half year old.

Watching them during the dance was interesting. The girls ran around together, danced together holding hands in a small circles of three girls. The boys were a bit crazier, but no holding hands and dancing. Benny spent a fair bit of time dancing on his own and doing his cool moves. He likes dance and movement, whether its doing cool hip hop dance moves, or karate-style moves. He likes to move it, move it.

Overwhelmingly though, it felt like the first night of the rest of their lives. I wasn’t prepared for that feeling at all. For me it was just going to be a noisy 2 hours of crazy kids running around. But it seemed transformative for them in a way. They were both very mature for the evening and were very well-behaved when the time came to leave.

“That was fun, dad,” they both chirped on the way to the car.

Oh my little tweens.

Abby saw it first and started making funny noises at the back door yesterday. Luckily, we hadn’t let her out to do her business. We’re going to have to be very careful from now on.

Six and a half year old Ella did. She often sits at the piano and just plays sounds she likes. Using bits and pieces of songs she is practicing, she seems to follow her ear and just play.

She has figured out how to record herself on the piano, so yesterday she came into the kitchen saying: “Who’s playing the piano, daddy?”

Piano lessons are great, but my question is: How do you nurture a young composer to pursue that instinct and compose more?

Whether or not that is true, Edmontonians are modest about their city. It’s a nice place to live, but it’s no Toronto (to quote a friend). The true gems of life in Edmonton are hidden below the surface. And they’re a bit hard to find out about because nobody is bragging about them.

For instance, we discovered a most wonderful little skating rink in Gariepy Park today. The ice surface follows a path that winds through a wooded area of the park. It’s cool because you can skate a circuit and there’s a larger area for beginners who want to stay close by.

It didn’t hurt that it was 4 degrees Celsius and sunny.

Here’s Ella skaing.

I left the bathroom and to do some laundry and upon my return I found Ella reclining and Ben washing her hair.

“What are you guys doing?” I asked.

Without skipping a beat, Ella says: “We’re playing spa, daddy.”

She certainly is her mother’s daughter, eh?