BUDDHATOMIC

So here I sit, typing on a very unfortunate keyboard rest, broken, making each letter I type a catastrophe of the highest order, a wobbly misfortune. I am in the basement as people laugh upstairs, their voices reverberating through the vents. I hide. This dingy basement is my resting place for the evening. I fear the bugs.

We journeyed to Saskatoon on this day, for an Easter at my dad's. We drank, we played games, one of which I lost impressively.

I met a mini-Derek, a shy little Cappy boy, timid and jolly.

Aside from the roadtrip of interesting conversations with the mother, and the regular huge-gathering hootenanny, there really isn't much to say. I just felt it had been too long since the last post. I needed to make amends with my blog. Blog has grown reclempt. Blog thinks I've left him for a new, better-dressed communicating system. No, blog, you're still the only one for me! A little rough around the edges, sure, but I like your worn-in feel. You're cozy like that old chair that you never get around to throwing away. But I would never throw that chair away. I would keep it until it decomposed, that's how powerful my love is. Our love transcends time and termites.

Ally