For Canada’s 141st, Aaron had the regular characters over, along with some new faces, for the annual barbecue. We stayed outside this time, lawn chairs in a semi-circle while the burgers and dogs were being cooked, and took it easy while the sun bathed us.

It was a beautiful day; sunny, with a refreshing breeze blowing through the air.

I don’t get to do this often enough.

I love the feel of a new book. Before the corners are dented, when the cover is still slippery smooth.

Guy Gavriel Kay — The Last Light Of The Sun
I was a huge fan of Tigana (although not so much Fionavar Tapestry, even if it was partly based in the city I grew up in). I don’t even like fantasy books, and Tigana is on the list of my top five books of all time.

Carol Shields — The Republic Of Love
As I said in a previous post, I was in the mood for something modern although I couldn’t bring myself to admit that I was also in the mood for something romantic. I found out about this book when I noticed Karen reading it during last years May 2-4 camping trip.

Mordecai Richler — The Apprenticeship Of Duddy Kravitz
Ever since I read The World According To Garp, a book full of lust, humour, passion, and life, discovered from the “Recommended Reading” list that my high school published every year, I had a deep repsect for the books I was exposed to in class. However, two English classes meant two different curriculums. When I was studying The Great Gatsby, the other class was studying To Kill A Mockingbird. When they were doing A Prayer For Owen Meany, I was doing Pride And Prejudice. The Apprentiship of Duddy Kravitz is to make of up for the time I spent studying The Catcher In The Rye.

It was only a few days after I bought these three books that I realized every single one of these authors is Canadian. Why does this country rule so fucking much.

The weather these last two weeks has been wet and dull, though not unpleasant. It’s just beginning to turn a stark Canadian cold. The sun is out, the pavement is salted, but the sky feels too dry for precipitation. I can smell the battery acid in the air, letting me know that snow is almost here.