Post Canada Day

posted at 9:49 pm
on Jul. 2, 2005

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No, not Canada Post day.  Today’s the day after Canada Day (used to be Dominion Day) and I’m recovering nicely.

Almost every Canadian I know did nothing special for Canada Day, in fact, they may even have caught up on work or just lazed around the house.

That’s OK. That’s the joy of being Canadian, you don’t really need to do anything about it, you just go about your business in a polite and cleanly way.

Later in the day, Jason and Noriko did come over.  They brought “Be Cool,” the John Travolta sequel to “Get Shorty” with them.  We turned it into a double header by also watching “Bad Santa.” Both movies are fairly good, though “Bad Santa” to me was an absolute hoot.  I really, really liked it, for reasons that I probably shouldn’t delve into too closely.

Today, we went with J&N to their new apartment—they’re going to be property owners!  How cool.  The place is small, but well laid out, a 1B/1B just blocks away from Mr. Pickwick’s fish and chip shop in the West End.

They’ll be about 6 blocks further away, which originally made me sad, until I realized that we’ll be leaving our place soon anyway.  God willing.

Susie’s about two weeks away from finishing her next book, and I’m looking forward to that, a lot.  Then there’s one more book, which I can’t talk about, and then we’re done writing for this year.  We better be, I don’t think our adrenal glands can handle much more of this.

Hey, did I mention my Mom was in town this week?  She was.  Drove here Sunday with a friend, slept at our place Sunday, Monday, Tues nights, then we dropped her off Wednesday night at our friend’s place in Cocquitlam, which is this bizarrely named town about 30 minutes east of downtown.  It’s the furthest east we’ve driven since we came to Vancouver, and it was nice to get away from home just for a few hours.  Our friend’s mom and my mom are old friends, and they’d driven out together.  So that’s the story there.

That’s it for right now—enough blogging for today.

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Previous entry:
Time for a Remedial Journalism Lesson

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How Austerity's Treating Me