Nola will go to Penticton today to have lunch with her dad, so it'll be just me & Qwinn to guard and preserve the house against predators. We're up for it.
Yesterday we did a whole lot of nothing in the morning. For lunch went into town and met up with Kate. Walked over to a crepes place and had very rich crepey things. I stepped outside after the meal and was accosted by an itinerant cherry picker who wanted a cigarette and described himself as "not straight", a condition that had sod all to do with his sexual preference, if any. His personal space was smaller than mine, so I declined to continue listening to his monologue and went back into the restaurant.
Kate showed us her office (she works for an AIDS education/prevention outfit) and showed us her prize plastic model of female genitalia. It looked remarkably like a French horn. Something to remember next time you go to the symphony or band concert and watch the players fisting their bells.*
We stopped by the butcher's and the grocery market on the way home and picked up ingredients for grilled stuffed pork chops. Involved mushrooms, garlic, spinach, ginger, other stuff, and a glaze of orange marmalade straight from the jar. Found the Last Open Cherry Stand between here and there and got several pounds.
Rest of afternoon very lazy—short dip in the lake, then sat out on the lawn watching birds, watercolouring and drinking beer. Qwinn cheered up immensely when Kate got home, and we stuffed the chops and had more beer and then supper on the lawn. Afterward took Qwinn to the dog park for a ramble on the bluff while we admired the sunset.
Today have been tasked with the following:
- Walk Qwinn
- Pick raspberries
- Hang fire extinguisher
There is absolutely no reason I should be the one to hang the fire extinguisher, save that I happen to be here and at a loose end. Truly, I am concealing nothing.
* That's probably TMI. But why should I be the only one to suffer these associations? I've loved French horns all my life, too. They have such a haunting sound.
