TIM BELFORD

All smiles on a Sunday in Ontario

GUELPH, ONTARIO | Those who know me more than passing well have often accused me of living in my own little world.

So it will come as no surprise to them that until recently I had absolutely no idea what a Zehr's was.

To ease your curiosity it's a large chain of grocery stores popular in Ontario, much like our own Maxi.

I know this now because I recently went to the Zehr's in Guelph to have my picture taken.

Actually I went with my entire immediate family to have 'our' picture taken.

You see, my family -- brothers, sister, mother, father, grandchildren, great-grandchild, and in-laws have never all been together in one place to have a family photo.

And since it was my parents' sixtieth wedding anniversary my mother decided it was about time.

Back to Zehr's.

My sister, the baby of the family, organized the event.

She did this partly because the celebration was at her home and partly because she came to the early realization that brothers, for the most part, are useless.

This came to her at the age of ten when she affixed a sign to her bedroom door that stated in bold, capital letters, "Brothers are dumb and stupid."

She chose Zehr's simply because, as well as dealing in vegetables, cold cuts, lawn furniture, and household cleaning products, it also has a photo studio open on Sundays.

This, too, was important since Sunday appeared to be the only day with a minimal chance of gathering the entire clan.

Even then it was dicey.

The love of my life and I were driving in from Quebec after collecting my son on route.

One brother was flying in from Panama. Another was on a flight from Helsinki. And my brother-in-law was somewhere over Washington.

The others were coming by train, bus, and automobile.

Well, everyone made it. So there we were, eighteen people crammed into a photo studio about the size of a double phone booth.

The photographer, whose first language appeared to be Spanish, vainly attempted to arrange us around our parents by generations, all the time shouting commands based on colour of apparel.

"Choo, Yellow Lady. Moo closer to brown man."

At one point she completely baffled one of my nieces when she commanded her to "Moo your nose."

My father had one arm draped over a grandson's shoulder -- partly as a gesture of affection and partly because after fifteen minutes of posing it was the only thing holding him up.

"Choo. Take your arm off him."

So much for the warm and fuzzy.

But we got it done. My mother's happy and we have a permanent record that at least once we were one big, happy family.

And we were smiling.

I'd like to think it was because of the genuine love in the room. But it might have been the observation made just before the shutter clicked that it was a good thing that the first set of wives weren't there. With more divorces than the Royal Family, it would have added five more bodies.