Confession
As you’ve probably figured out by now (being the most brilliant blogreaders in the world. G’ahead – revel in it), I watch reality shows. I used to read romance novels when I was stressed/tired/busy/wanted a mental vacation. After I got bored with that genre (not as quickly as you might think – have you read…
Dos and Don’ts of a Restorative Weekend
DON’TS: Answer the phone. Get up early. Cook. Think or talk about anything serious. DOS: Hang out with your mother and sister and meander around the St. Lawrence Market, checking out vendors, eating sushi and sausages (alas, no pictures this time). Take pictures of your mother doing the chicken dance next to the smoked and…
Gotcha!
Life is hopping. Hopping so much, in fact, that I don’t have time to be witty, pithy, wise or even mildly entertaining. Hence a cop-out photo of the Moocher in an embarrassing position to amuse you while I address the 1,758.73 things on my list. p.s. Really. At least half of that is fur.
A Classic Andersen Outing
The highlight of the weekend was a visit from the radiant parents-to-be, which evolved into a quintessential Andersen moment. I should mention – for the purists among you – that although my brother-in-law was not born an Andersen, he is a naturalized one and well… just roll with it. As has already been established, we’re…
Circle of Life
I’ve spent the past 3 days wondering how you follow a post about a terrorist attack. There is no natural segue from that. Then I decided to follow the example of Londoners and bloody well get on with life. And what better way than…. Introducing (drumroll, please)…. My brilliant sister, Janne (who would be my…
Going Too Far?
After a thoroughly gasping hot week (or it might have been an eternity – I can’t remember), it finally cooled down a bit this weekend. It was a huge relief after temps as high as (with humidex) 44. For non-metric users, that’s 111F. That’s enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk, I think, and…
An Immigrant Moment
I was born in Denmark and spent the first 20 years of my life there. In 1982, my parents decided to go to Canada for a couple of years and as I couldn’t bear to live in another country than my family (and was thoroughly disenchanted with studying English at the university there), I decided…