Squall of me, why not take squall of me?
12:40 a.m.
Hubby and I went to Montreal to hear a concert at the ChapeIIe Hist0rique du B0n Pasteur where his most recent work for solo marimba was being premiered and his piece for two marimbas was being reprised. The wind was buffeting the car, the snow was blowing across the road, and at times visibility was down to absolutely zero. I found it very frightening and tried to convince my husband we should just turn around. He is not easily swayed from his purpose, however, and after we�d gotten around Orf0rd and reached Granby, the roads were clear and, while still windy, visibility was normal. Our troubles were not yet over, though, as Hubby didn�t really know where we were going (even though he�s been to this place many times) and we found ourselves in the 2500s on Sherbr00ke Street heading east, when the address of the place (which he hadn�t bothered to bring along) was only 100. I think I was extravagantly patient. In reality I bitched somewhat, probably sighed excessively and rolled my eyes inordinately, but I didn�t start yelling. Maturity is a good thing.
The concert was good. Hubby�s pieces were played very well and he was happy with the performances. We were invited to go out for a drink afterwards with the performers and various others, but we were anxious to get back on the road, since we didn�t know what the conditions were like. As it turns out, the snow squalls had ceased and we had clear sailing all the way. We got back at 12:25, the clock having stopped mid-strike at midnight (it�s funny how it resumes its bonging when you start yanking its chain) and Buddy Boy had fallen asleep in the living room with the fireplace fan going full blast and just embers therein.
My dearest friend zitagsd left me this link which you must check out. It�s hilarious.
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