|On my way home, rising moon|
Emil wasn't happy about it, but I insisted on driving him back to town late yesterday afternoon so I could be home before dark, which is now about 5 p.m.
Emil is chatting to me at the kitchen table and Everett, hearing, laughs and says “That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard Emil say about anyone— that they’re not a very good singer.”
Is anyone here a devoted reader of Canadian literature? If so you may be interested in this article and perhaps enough to register, sign in and leave a comment. Click here to read The Age of the Giller at Historica-Dominion's History Wire blog.
The voting has started for the Canadian Weblog Awards. There are 43 in contention. Go to this site for links so you can read them and vote for your favourites.
Reply to Comment (I answered in the comments but when I read blogs I rarely get back to see whether someone has replied, so here it is again):
Sharon said... Lovely. But what is poutane?
Poutine (pronounced poo-TIN) is a Quebec dish: french fries covered with gravy and melted mozzarella cheese. At least, that's how we eat it here in Saskatchewan.
Today for work I was doing some research on filmmaker Peter Mettler, whose YouTube channel contains the following short:
A flock of evening grosbeaks arrived at the feeders today and was having a hard time getting the seeds because the perches are small. So I went out to sprinkle seed on the ground and they flew off and didn’t come back. So disappointing. (Bird brains.)
Photo of evening grosbeak pulled off this site on the web.