Wapentake

I'd just about gotten to where I no longer haunted the front stoop waiting for the post. St John’s wort, in regular infusions, was of some material assistance here, I must admit. I recommend it. Anyway, after all the waiting, and the non-waiting, not to mention the afternoon spent frantically locating and faxing arcane financial documents while soaking wet from briskly walking twenty minutes in the pouring rain to the downtown office where said financial documents were, I hoped, stored, nor the other afternoon spent convincing an overworked and overwrought (and, from my POV, over-armed) CIC cop that I was harmless and should be allowed to meet in person (unheard-of idea, that) with the immigration worker who had so entirely misapprehended key portions of my application as to think I was claiming residency for the six months prior to my moving to Canada, after all that, none of which even approaches the difficulties other folks encounter when applying for residency or citizenship in other countries, I finally today checked the mail on my way out to supper with Nola, and there, buried in with form letters and an Opus newsletter, was The Letter.

NOTICE TO APPEAR - TO TAKE THE OATH OF CITIZENSHIP

On the thirteenth day of May, at twenty five minutes after one o'clock.