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This is an older one, but it's my dad's favorite and it's special to me because of the journalling. My attempt at Cathy Zielske-style, graphic design-inspired scrapping.Journalling: Brunch. A funny word, one part “breakfast” and one part “lunch” and all together intertwined with years worth of memories… .While I’m certain there were many simple soup-and-sandwich lunches and even the occasional big-meal-with-the-family-after-church, what I remember happening most often after the benediction had been said, the chatting in the church foyer done and the Sunday School projects, mittens and coats collected, was piling into the car and going “out for brunch”. Bernsteins, Bartleby’s, Bonzinni’s… whatever the chosen restaurant, brunch was a time when you could linger – “rent a table”, as my mom put it – and go back for as many helpings as you wanted, from the salads to the desserts (especially those much-hankered-after chocolate éclairs at Bartleby’s). The adults would drink endless cups of coffee before going home for – at least in my dad’s case – an afternoon nap. When I moved to La Ronge for my summer job at The Northerner, I got involved with the church young adults group and soon brunch at the La Ronge Motor Hotel after church was part of the routine. One Sunday, I invited a charming young man named Bryan Orthner to join us, and we fell into conversation over plates of food. Although he had his own car, Bryan had caught a ride with his parents that Sunday, and when the rest of the young people’s crowd was heading out, the senior Orthners were still immersed in conversation at their own table, so I offered to stay and chat with Bryan. At our wedding, Kelly Provost (doing a “news report” on our courtship) asked Bryan’s mother Ruth what she thought when she saw Bryan chatting with this newcomer. Her reply? “I was just glad to see him talking to a girl!” Five years later, we are still regulars at the Motor Hotel, both as part of the “church crowd” that arrives in dresses and suit-and-tie at 12:15 and lingers until around 2:00 on Sundays, and as part of the no-time-(or-energy)-to-cook business crowd on weekdays, where there are often 2 large Cokes awaiting us if we are spotted by a waitress who knows us! We periodically try to cut back on our eating out costs and trim back on the visits, but we keep coming back to the comraderie and companionship of the Sunday table. I expect that one day, when we have children of our own, they too will look forward to hearing those famous words: “Let’s go for brunch.”
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