Da train! Da train, Boss!
I forgot this, yesterday. Congratulations to the Rouge et Or on your win of the Dumsmore Cup. Two more games to go. So, go!
This morning, our checkout from the pampered lifestyles of the rich and famous was painless (payment deferred painless). The train was ready to receive up within minutes of our arrival by the familiar platform gate, and the car was empty enough that we were given four seats just because. A place to stretch out, if we desired.
In reality, this is “corrections time”, so while my devoted seatmate got the red pen rocking and rolling, I watched the landscape outside. No delays, no derailments; everything you hope a trip will be. And after crossing the bridge (and the trestle, I think), we made the final curves behind the mall and the CEGEP and detrained in the station. Not near… in. This is the way that trains are meant to be received.
The taxi driver didn’t know the way home, but he was willing to accept our coaching, while he amazed us with his tales of virtual golf. You had to be there, I guess. There was a trace of snow in front of our car (which means that winter is still intending to interfere with our lives), but for now we’re safe at home.
Thalassa provided my diversion for the afternoon. I swear, there are as many variations on the fishing theme as there are species of fish. Today, the lads were in the water with a combined rake/plow/rocker assembly that they dragged through the sand to collect tiny molluscs.
