Our weekend note will be shorter, in keeping with our far-less cosmopolitan adventures. Saturday afternoon to Pictou to visit Steve and Jane -- a quiet Saturday night and Sunday morning eating (Saturday night: succulent steak and all the trimmings; Kathy and Ken made a more modest breakfast for the crew this morning), reading, crosswords and puzzles and a few harshly-contested cribbage games. This afternoon we drove up the shore to Pugwash (maybe 1.25 hours each way) and had an early supper at the Smiley family's cafe. Noreen was in Halifax for Word on the Street and the restaurant was quiet, so we had Greg all to ourselves; he was much more relaxed than the last time we were in, and they seem to be doing much better -- going to open one day a week through the winter, and relax.
Ken glanced in Kathy's copy of Ian MacEwan's "Saturday", a gift from Megan last year I think. The card that came with it read:
"It's Mother's day, Mom
forget about the cooking
forget about the cleaning
forget about the laundry
(and then inside)
just pretend you're Dad!"
(and then in Megan's distinctive hand)
"Don't show him this card"
I'm sure Ken will want to talk soon with you about this, Megs.
But mostly, he can't wait 'til hockey pool ... when does it begin?
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I have no memory of that birthday card but insist that it must be from at least two years ago when I was but a wee, senseless child. I'm quite sure my gift was timely and surely even Ian McEwan is incapable of making the Booker longlist on two consecutive years. Speaking of which, have either Ken or Kathy read On Chesil Beach?
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