A cold fall weekend

Yesterday was a quiet day. Glen went to a conference on foetal heart imaging (to which I kept saying was it the feet or the heart. He laughed the first time.). Pauline stayed until about noon before heading off to work. I went to the gym and rode a bike for a bit, watching the grey, wet and windy outside world from the safety of a climate-controlled building.

In the afternoon I did a bit of writing, some editing, some tidying and then succumbed to what the weather so obviously wanted me to do: sit on the couch and watch tv.

I’ve recently begun watching Spooks (or MI5 as it’s called in North America). I stopped watching once Roz got blown up so I missed two series (including the final). I’m not steadily catching up. Apart from the annoying two love stories they’re trying to squeeze into the plot, it’s just as exciting as I remember. When Glen came home and watched it with me, he was getting tense from the suspense, and he’d only walked in near the end.

In the evening, because Glen declared he didn’t want to eat chicken (again) and it’s the only thing we have in the house, we went down the road to Osteria dei Ganzi, an Italian restaurant we walked past when we first moved in. It’s only been here a little longer than us. We had a very cute and friendly waiter, who was amused by our indecisiveness and our questioning of the chef’s sanity or the unbelievability of the tiramisu. We had two starters, shared a main and shared a dessert. Food was good, price was reasonable I suppose but still came to a lot, and service was good. They’re changing the menu in a few weeks so we’ll go back.

When we got home, Glen did some work while I watched the second half of Rock of Ages and then the end of Argo. Glen went to bed early.

Today marks our 100 days since leaving home. We got up late this morning. Initially Glen got up early to go to a seminar but when he got to the station he found the trains don’t run until 9. With no easy and quick way to get there, he came home and back to bed.

Around noon we headed out. Glen went to work, which turned out to be pointless as he couldn’t actually do what he needed to do. I walked to Queens Park for the Word on the Street festival. Oh and it’s only 12 degrees today. Nice and nippy.

Lots of stalls of authors and publishers selling books and things. There were also a couple of self-publishing businesses there including Kobo’s own self-publishing service. There were also author signings and tents with author chats and workshops. In the afternoon they were running a “bring a page of your manuscript and we’ll read a line or two and critique it” but I wasn’t going to give that a go. Plus it wasn’t on until three and I’d left well before then.

I had also intended to listen to a few talks before realising that sort of thing usually only works best if you have some idea of who these people are. Plus listening to writers talk about their work is rarely my idea of fun, especially when I don’t know them. Glen joined me and we walked back up through the stalls and then to the shops to get some things to make soup back home.

Once home I made soup, talked to Albert online while he’s waiting for his plane to Toronto, and then we watched the second half of Dark Shadows to kill some time.

We’re now on our way to the airport to collect Albert who’s staying with us for a couple of days.

Can’t believe we’re going to New York on Friday.

And as an aside: I learned the other day that ‘being a sook’ doesn’t mean anything to Canadians. And if you try to explain by saying, “You know, like being a sooky la-la,” that only makes matters worse. Weird country.

What do you say, eh?

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