Who never promiseth but he means to pay.
Ah, faithfully I update. I've been in Saskatoon an evening and a full day. In that time I have supped with my family, slept in gloriously, gone camera shopping with my grandma and been successful in finding what she wanted, had many excellent meals including one at Taste of Saskatchewan - by myself after having gotten basically the best parking spot ever four spots from the entrance because the person backed out in front of me - and then I had spring rolls, sweet potato fries, and saskatoon berry crepes for supper before seeing Henry IV with my most excellent Shakespearean buddies. Jokes were made about manly hugging and good times were had by all. Except, you know, Hotspur.
Afterwards, Kate and I went for Starbucks and chitchat about bookish things. Tomorrow I have plans for food and books and stocking up on good things for the coming month at the lake. Also, haircut. Badly needed.
My lake life and my Saskatoon life are so curiously separate when I'm here. It's so distant, much more so than can be accounted for by the physical distance covered in mere hours of driving.
It's good to be home.