I have a new nephew. Slowly but surely the list of potential bone marrow donors grows . . . as does the list of bone marrow demanders but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. What a beautiful boy he is. It’s almost criminal for a family to be as good-looking as we are. Criminal.
That sort of dominated the weekend – otherwise the brunt of the dragon ride played out to the accompaniment of pain, pain, pain and Figaro illustrated to me how absolutely I grew up in a house of men, that he had to be the one to tell me, based on the experiences of ex-girlfs, that I should be cuddling a hot water bottle. That helped while it was on but hindered my walking.
I did pull myself together for the Cabbagetown fair/massive garage sale thingummy to buy a salad spinner, books and assorted other crap. I also managed to graze the yummy food at the street festival and admire how awesome it is that my neighbourhood is so diverse that at one end of it you had an Elvis impersonator and at the other you had blaring Singhalese horns while a Falun Dafa brass band marched around.
And yesterday we joined Mr. C at the Junction art festival. I like that neighbourhood so much! I know it’s the way it is because it’s at the back of beyond . . . still wish it wasn’t the back of beyond though.