Yesterday done up with a top hat.

I didn’t write a diary entry last night because I couldn’t think of anything to say. I came home from writing group where words had been flowing out of me all night, and just couldn’t conjure up any more for this particular white box. But this morning I remembered what I would have written if I had had any inspiration left last night.

The landscapers are back today to finish the job they began a month ago, i.e. putting in a walkway of blue stones to replace the red bricks we’ve had there since we first had the job done. In order to save time and money (because time is money) I started pulling out the bricks myself, filling the wheelbarrow and then dumping them in the backyard. I got maybe one-tenth of the job done. It was hard, really hard. My first obstacle was that the wheelbarrow had a flat tire, something I didn’t notice until it was already full of bricks and I couldn’t get it rolling. This meant dumping them out and hooking up the bicycle pump. Then I was in business again, but I only got three wheelbarrows full done, and it hardly made a dent in the walkway. By this time I was dirty and tired and aching, so I just quit and played Kingd0m of L0athing online instead.

Earlier in the day I cleaned up the weeds which grow between the curb and the street along the front of our property with the shears. The whippersnipper is fucked (as Ricky of TPB would say), so I was left with a very effective but low-tech tool to use. I also did a load of laundry, whites, specifically to wash Little Princess’ new (second-hand, actually) fancy dress which she wore to an awards ceremony last night to celebrate the doling out of grant money to artistic enterprises by the City. Her band was a recipient for the purpose of buying recording studio time, and the party was “black tie”. I’m not sure if any of their members actually wore a tie.

Then, as I already mentioned, I had writing group. The usual suspects showed up, which means we were all middle aged and older women. Our one man didn’t come, after avowing that he would. I think this calls for some withering emails to be lanced in his general direction. Gail, a retired nurse who lives in the lovely village of N0rth HatIey during the summers and in Florida when the cold weather hits, an American by birth but a Canadian by choice, came up with a very good line which she gave me permission to use, as long as I credited her. One of our writing exercises was to find inspiration from a song (a terrible song, mind you) asking how love has gone wrong. She decided instead to write about how love has gone right, and gave as an example her love affair with Canada, her adopted country. She said that she prefers warm weather, but she loves Canadians. In fact, the only thing wrong with Americans is that they are not Canadians.

I leave you with a photo of Little Princess and her friend Ed as they head out to the awards ceremony:

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