I’m blowing this gosh forsaken heckhole (to paraphrase Marge Simpson) tomorrow to go to Canada (depart 23 August, arrive back on 2 September. Am sure I’ll be kissing the tarmac at Heathrow airport when I get back. Visiting Canada once a year is great, but I miss London while am there). I pretty much go annually, usually around the beginning of September as soon as peak travel season is over and the prices return to normal. This year I nabbed a decent affordable-ish flight for August, so am hoping the weather will be good and I’ll be going to the beach every day (my mother’s house in rural Quebec is walking distance from the beach).
Don’t suppose anyone has urgent tips on breaking the news to your mother you now have big tattoos on your arms? I’ve not mentioned it in advance and think just taking off my jacket and waiting for her to notice isn’t the right approach! Most of you probably don’t realize quite how rural / square my background is (the reason I hot footed it to London in the early 90s in the first place). Am just hoping it won't be a big emotional scene! I’m intending to take the “I waited until I was 41” angle. Wish me luck.
In the meantime, please watch this brief clip for a snapshot of Canadian culture and politics, and reflect on this woman’s wise words about bilingualism.
"It looks like a clear sack, filled with yellow cheese" - So last week there was no posting because I was off my game, as the week got off the a somewhat strange start. The Husband, handsome as he is, had this ...
2 days ago