This Was Already A Month Ago?
So in case you hadn't heard, we went to Canada a month ago.
Slow down there, Jeff. Who's we? Where in Canada? And why didn't you say something earlier?
So I owe you all an apology for the late trip journal. These things used to be posted in a timely fashion. Let's just say that the week after the trip was supposed to be a late-night week, and it never quite worked out that way. And I'm still riding that streak where in the last eight weekends, I've spent one complete weekend within New Hampshire. It almost makes me sound busy. Chances are you've already seen the photo gallery in the Galleries section. If so, you can piece together a good bit of the trip. If not, go check it out, and read along.
Long ago, in a county about 100 miles away... Never let it be said that I don't have a flair for the dramatic. I probably had mentioned that this trip was brewing for a while, anyway. These kind of things have to now, because it's not like a student parking lot and a couple dorm rooms are all that separates us now. We all remember the October drenchfest in Boston, and that was a good trip nonetheless. Basically, Liam wanted to do a Montréal trip to outdo all Montréal trips. One of his co-workers is a Montréal native who had boatloads of advice to back up Liam's usual painstaking research. Carmine and his girlfriend Katie (I think I've mentioned her) were on board, and of course Liam's girlfriend Anne would be coming. Greg was going to be unable to make it, due to his work schedule, but Liam's friend Dave Hare, who lives in DC now and had joined Liam, Greg and I on the Toronto trip in 2004, would be joining us. The plan was for Liam, Anne and I to meet at Manchester Airport Friday morning, where we would pick up Carmine, Katie and Dave. From there, we'd grab lunch and head to Canada, with our return planned for Sunday evening sometime. Come Friday, we'd seen a little rain in Saturday's forecast, but everything else looked solid.
Things started off without a hitch. Carmine, Katie and Dave arrived on time, we collected some luggage, and stopped at the Airport Diner on Brown Ave for lunch before we got on the road. The drive up was uneventful except for a traffic backup on A-10 approaching Montréal. Once we got across the bridge and onto the island, it was smooth sailing all the way to the Sofitel, where Liam and I handed over our car keys and we lugged all our stuff to the lobby.
The action started off quickly as we split up into two rooms. Carmine, Katie and I took room 1109, while Liam, Anne and Dave took room 1110 on the other side of the elevators (as you guessed, both on the eleventh floor). We hadn't been there but a minute when there was a knock at the door. I assumed it was Liam, and while I pondered using a "Tommy Boy"-inspired greeting, I just muttered "Go away" as I opened the door. Instead, it was the bellhop with Liam and Dave's luggage! After a brief mea culpa to a confused bellhop, we laughed off the moment, took a few pictures of the hotel room (as opulent as the last time we'd stayed at the Sofitel), and joined Liam, Anne and Dave in their room to set a rough itinerary for the evening.
With rain in the Saturday forecast, we wanted to be sure Dave got to see Parc Mont-Royal, so he could see the view of the city under decent conditions. The concierge pointed us in a decent direction, and so after hitting an ATM for some quick cash, we trekked up to the park that had become old hat for Carmine, Liam and me. Years before, we'd traversed a closed (with reason) wood staircase that took us straight to the top. This time, the staircase was totally rebuilt, and it was a breeze making our way to the top, though we were all winded afterwards. We took a ton of pictures up top, then walked back down, planning to stop at the Complexe Desjardins for a sit-down dinner at St. Hubert, a local chicken rotisserie. After a good walk to the Complexe, we found nothing more than a quick-serve counter in the building. Dejected at the lack of a sit-down atmosphere, we stepped back outside and headed for a corner of the city off Rues St.-Laurent and St.-Denis where we knew of a number of restaurants. (Sure, we could have taken the Métro, but it was just as easy to walk, and no one was complaining yet.) Once there, we settled on the same Mexican restaurant Liam, Greg, Carmine and I had eaten at in 2003 with Greg's friend Joe from McGill. Liam remembered something about the restaurant, but it wasn't until we were waiting for our drinks that he recalled it was the less-than-expedient service. The food was great, though.
It was approaching 9:30 at night when we left the restaurant, and with the air cooling, we decided returning to the hotel for jackets might be a good choice, as most of us had left anything warm behind. To save on walking, we hopped the Métro back to the nearest stop by the hotel. However, between all the walking during the afternoon and the fact that most everyone had been awake since 5am, people were getting tired. Anne was especially burned out. We decided that it probably wasn't a bad idea to call it a night early, and save our energy for Saturday night instead. Liam, Carmine, Katie and I set out to Ste.-Catherine for some snacks, drinks and such for the rooms while Anne relaxed and Dave watched subtitled episodes of "South Park" at the hotel. We made it back around 11:30, and after a little chatting, we all crashed for the night.
And so I rose around 9:00 Saturday. I hit the shower before heading downstairs to use the "business center" to check my e-mail (I'd stolen away a few times the night before to e-mail a friend who was also on the road for the weekend). Before too long, everyone else was awake, showered and ready to hit the town. The only catch was the wet stuff pouring down from above. A couple loaner umbrellas later (thanks, Sofitel), we were on our way to an A.L. Van Houtte café for a morning cup of coffee and a muffin, croissant or what-have-you. The rain was still coming down when we left, and so we decided to spend some time browsing the underground mall. Liam, Carmine and I had done a little exploring years before, or more accurately Liam showed us a corner or two of the underground shopping plaza that links several hotels and Métro stations under the city. This time, Carmine and Katie had shopping on the mind, as we bounced between high-end boutiques of all sorts, from shoes to jeans to handbags and luggage. We stopped for a refreshment break at a bubble-tea stand before venturing to the Place Bonaventure, the train station where all the commuter rails and such tie into the city. We were watching the clock with the goal of making it to a sports bar for the start of the Kentucky Derby, but we wanted to do something for lunch, and Liam had just the idea. Once again, we were bound for the Main, but when we emerged from underground, we found the rain was slowing at last. Our restaurant of choice was Schwartz's Hebrew Delicatessen on St.-Laurent, home of the legendary smoked-meat sandwich. Things didn't start so well there either, as we cut the line going in to find out that the crowd smoking outside the door actually was a line. We got in the line, finally got a table, but as the busboy set the table, I dodged a passing waiter and the busboy thought I was trying to rush into a seat. "I suggest you exercise a manner of courtesy," he said to me somewhat sharply. I was a bit taken aback...I'd been trying to do exactly that. The food was great, though, and I didn't piss any other waiters off in that exchange.
The rain had totally stopped while we were in Schwartz's, and I was sure to snap plenty of photos of the Main on the way back, including some shots of the very-quiet GoGo Lounge (it's a lot quieter when it's daylight, though there were a couple people at the bar by 5pm). We were going to head to the hotel to relax before the Kentucky Derby, when we took a detour across the McGill campus. Dave collects shot glasses from colleges he visits, so we immediately looked for the bookstore. Dave made it in with minutes to spare, though they were out of shot glasses so he opted for a pilsner glass instead. The sky was beginning to clear as we made it back to the hotel, where Carmine and Katie crashed and the rest of us chatted for a bit.
After an hour or so, we roused Carmine and Katie for the walk to the Bell Centre's Cage Aux Sports, a sports bar at the Montréal Canadiens' arena. We made good time walking down there, but no sooner did we get in the door that the gun went off in Louisville, and the Derby was on. Liam watched as the horse he'd picked to win challenged early but got steamrolled at the end. The race over, we retired to a booth for a drink...could you call that "pregaming?" The atmosphere wasn't what we'd hoped for, so we took off for Liam's next intended destination, the Pub Ste.-Elisabeth. On the way, we passed the St. Hubert we'd pooh-poohed the night before...it turned out there was more than a fast-service counter after all! Making note of it for Sunday's dinner, we kept walking and walking, finally finding the pub tucked away on a street we'd passed once before. Ste.-Elisabeth is a European pub with a terrace, and we were fortunate enough to score the two couches in the corner shortly after we arrived. The terrace never opened up, but we stayed until 10pm or so, chatting amongst ourselves and enjoying a few drinks.
Our next destination was to be the Jello Bar, the club we had visited a couple times before and always enjoyed. On the way over, we decided a late dinner would not be unwise, so we stopped at a convenient La Belle Province for what we were told was some of the city's best poutine (that classic mélange of French fries, gravy and cheese curd). Once fed, we took off again for Jello. Unlike the past times we'd been there, the back room was closed up for a private party, so we found space in the main room to enjoy our drinks, Carmine and Katie retiring to a sofa while the rest of us stood. Before the band took the stage, I ordered a Key West martini, but as I rejoined my group, Dave used his arm to illustrate a point in conversation, in the process knocking most of my drink onto some guy in a camouflage jacket (and my right side). I guess I'm not supposed to be a drunk. Fortunately, I still had half the martini to finish. Around 11:30, a live band took to the stage for a bit. The first set was solid, some good old-school funk, a little James Brown, some other covers and some original stuff too...maybe not the best band in the whole wide world, but just what we needed to set the mood (and groove) that night.
After the first set, Carmine and Katie were pretty worn out from the day's activities, and decided to head back to the hotel, but they asked if I could lead the way as they weren't as sure of how to get back. Instead, we decided to all head back together. Once back at the hotel, Liam, Dave and I were in the mood to prolong the night, so we stopped by an ATM across the street to refresh our wallets, then walked down to Rue Crescent, where more of the American and English-speaking bars and clubs are located. A couple years ago, Liam, Carmine and I had spent some time at a brew pub called Brutopia. As Liam said on the walk back to the hotel later, "We never speak that strongly about it, but we always end up there." Sure enough, there we were, listening to some live oldies while we downed a pint of hard cider each. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, just something relaxed and perfect for the night. We left Brutopia in good spirits. Our next destination wasn't too far from Crescent, and it was another one of Liam's co-worker's recommendations. Liam had read about this local pizza place called Al-Taïb where the pizza was excellent, served 24 hours a day, and served by men whose attitudes resembled those of the Soup Nazi of "Seinfeld" fame. I'd been nervous that things happen in threes, and after disrespecting our bellhop and the busboy at Schwartz's, I was on target to piss off a guy at Al-Taïb, but then I remembered the guy my drink got spilled on at Jello and knew I'd be fine. We got our pizza, and wasted no time in scrounging up another couple bucks for another slice. We walked back to the hotel around 3am, fed and watered, and feeling pretty good about the night. I stopped to send an e-mail before bed, while the others took the elevators straight to bed.
And we weren't done yet.
Sunday dawned, and we checked out of the hotel on time, but left our bags and cars under the watchful eyes of the hotel staff and valets. This time, we stopped at a Second Cup café for our breakfast coffee. I hadn't expected to do a lot, since Sunday is usually a city-wide day of rest in terms of commerce, but that didn't stop us from squeezing in a bit of Sunday-morning shopping. Carmine and Katie spent a while trying stuff on, Anne bought a scarf for work, and Dave and I perused CDs while talking about movies and music. We regrouped and headed down to the closest Métro stop for our final tourist destination, the famed Old Port.
Carmine, Liam, Anne and I had seen the Old Port many times before, but for Dave and Katie, it was all new. We skipped the usual touristy elements of the trip, the Notre-Dame Basilica and such, and made our way for the shore along the St. Lawrence Seaway. From there, we could see Parc Jean-Drapeau, the park where we'd spent many an afternoon on the dangerously-designed seesaws and other unsafe playground components. We also spotted the ever-so-cool Habitat '67, an avant-garde apartment structure designed for Expo 67 years ago and somewhat forgotten by time. We took in the sights of the Old Port for a bit, before rushing back to St. Hubert's quick-serve counter for some lunch we could take on the road, so we could get back to Manchester in time for Carmine and Katie's Sunday-night flight home.
And so the trip came to a close as we pulled into the short-term lot at the Manchester Airport around 8pm. Liam and Anne headed for home, Carmine and Katie for their flight, and I took Dave for a quick tour around Manchester (and a stop at Burger King for a late dinner) before we went back to my house. He crashed there overnight for his Monday-morning return trip.
And with all of that, another Montréal trip was in the books. I think this one ranked as the best. Maybe it was the little nuances, lighting the candle in the bathroom for a "romantic" shower or the numerous references to YTMND.com that we could draw or the things that I saw for the first time again through Dave or Anne or Katie's eyes. I don't know why I'm even analyzing it. It was just a good time. I can't wait to see what we do for a fall trip. Liam's definitely the star trip planner...with his loose agendas in mind, we always have a good time.
Hard to believe it was already a month ago. It's hard to believe it's almost June already. I'm not sure where 2006 is going.
Anyway, a lot has been going on lately. I'm going to try and fill you in over the next couple days. I was thinking this weekend how I hadn't posted anything on my usual lamentations lately. It's time. Not that you want to read it, but there's always something going on in my head. I've had someone to vent that to lately. Maybe that's why I'm not as quick to say it here.
Another weekend come and gone. This one was longer than the rest...but I'll say, lately they feel so short.
Slow down there, Jeff. Who's we? Where in Canada? And why didn't you say something earlier?
So I owe you all an apology for the late trip journal. These things used to be posted in a timely fashion. Let's just say that the week after the trip was supposed to be a late-night week, and it never quite worked out that way. And I'm still riding that streak where in the last eight weekends, I've spent one complete weekend within New Hampshire. It almost makes me sound busy. Chances are you've already seen the photo gallery in the Galleries section. If so, you can piece together a good bit of the trip. If not, go check it out, and read along.
Long ago, in a county about 100 miles away... Never let it be said that I don't have a flair for the dramatic. I probably had mentioned that this trip was brewing for a while, anyway. These kind of things have to now, because it's not like a student parking lot and a couple dorm rooms are all that separates us now. We all remember the October drenchfest in Boston, and that was a good trip nonetheless. Basically, Liam wanted to do a Montréal trip to outdo all Montréal trips. One of his co-workers is a Montréal native who had boatloads of advice to back up Liam's usual painstaking research. Carmine and his girlfriend Katie (I think I've mentioned her) were on board, and of course Liam's girlfriend Anne would be coming. Greg was going to be unable to make it, due to his work schedule, but Liam's friend Dave Hare, who lives in DC now and had joined Liam, Greg and I on the Toronto trip in 2004, would be joining us. The plan was for Liam, Anne and I to meet at Manchester Airport Friday morning, where we would pick up Carmine, Katie and Dave. From there, we'd grab lunch and head to Canada, with our return planned for Sunday evening sometime. Come Friday, we'd seen a little rain in Saturday's forecast, but everything else looked solid.
Things started off without a hitch. Carmine, Katie and Dave arrived on time, we collected some luggage, and stopped at the Airport Diner on Brown Ave for lunch before we got on the road. The drive up was uneventful except for a traffic backup on A-10 approaching Montréal. Once we got across the bridge and onto the island, it was smooth sailing all the way to the Sofitel, where Liam and I handed over our car keys and we lugged all our stuff to the lobby.
The action started off quickly as we split up into two rooms. Carmine, Katie and I took room 1109, while Liam, Anne and Dave took room 1110 on the other side of the elevators (as you guessed, both on the eleventh floor). We hadn't been there but a minute when there was a knock at the door. I assumed it was Liam, and while I pondered using a "Tommy Boy"-inspired greeting, I just muttered "Go away" as I opened the door. Instead, it was the bellhop with Liam and Dave's luggage! After a brief mea culpa to a confused bellhop, we laughed off the moment, took a few pictures of the hotel room (as opulent as the last time we'd stayed at the Sofitel), and joined Liam, Anne and Dave in their room to set a rough itinerary for the evening.
With rain in the Saturday forecast, we wanted to be sure Dave got to see Parc Mont-Royal, so he could see the view of the city under decent conditions. The concierge pointed us in a decent direction, and so after hitting an ATM for some quick cash, we trekked up to the park that had become old hat for Carmine, Liam and me. Years before, we'd traversed a closed (with reason) wood staircase that took us straight to the top. This time, the staircase was totally rebuilt, and it was a breeze making our way to the top, though we were all winded afterwards. We took a ton of pictures up top, then walked back down, planning to stop at the Complexe Desjardins for a sit-down dinner at St. Hubert, a local chicken rotisserie. After a good walk to the Complexe, we found nothing more than a quick-serve counter in the building. Dejected at the lack of a sit-down atmosphere, we stepped back outside and headed for a corner of the city off Rues St.-Laurent and St.-Denis where we knew of a number of restaurants. (Sure, we could have taken the Métro, but it was just as easy to walk, and no one was complaining yet.) Once there, we settled on the same Mexican restaurant Liam, Greg, Carmine and I had eaten at in 2003 with Greg's friend Joe from McGill. Liam remembered something about the restaurant, but it wasn't until we were waiting for our drinks that he recalled it was the less-than-expedient service. The food was great, though.
It was approaching 9:30 at night when we left the restaurant, and with the air cooling, we decided returning to the hotel for jackets might be a good choice, as most of us had left anything warm behind. To save on walking, we hopped the Métro back to the nearest stop by the hotel. However, between all the walking during the afternoon and the fact that most everyone had been awake since 5am, people were getting tired. Anne was especially burned out. We decided that it probably wasn't a bad idea to call it a night early, and save our energy for Saturday night instead. Liam, Carmine, Katie and I set out to Ste.-Catherine for some snacks, drinks and such for the rooms while Anne relaxed and Dave watched subtitled episodes of "South Park" at the hotel. We made it back around 11:30, and after a little chatting, we all crashed for the night.
And so I rose around 9:00 Saturday. I hit the shower before heading downstairs to use the "business center" to check my e-mail (I'd stolen away a few times the night before to e-mail a friend who was also on the road for the weekend). Before too long, everyone else was awake, showered and ready to hit the town. The only catch was the wet stuff pouring down from above. A couple loaner umbrellas later (thanks, Sofitel), we were on our way to an A.L. Van Houtte café for a morning cup of coffee and a muffin, croissant or what-have-you. The rain was still coming down when we left, and so we decided to spend some time browsing the underground mall. Liam, Carmine and I had done a little exploring years before, or more accurately Liam showed us a corner or two of the underground shopping plaza that links several hotels and Métro stations under the city. This time, Carmine and Katie had shopping on the mind, as we bounced between high-end boutiques of all sorts, from shoes to jeans to handbags and luggage. We stopped for a refreshment break at a bubble-tea stand before venturing to the Place Bonaventure, the train station where all the commuter rails and such tie into the city. We were watching the clock with the goal of making it to a sports bar for the start of the Kentucky Derby, but we wanted to do something for lunch, and Liam had just the idea. Once again, we were bound for the Main, but when we emerged from underground, we found the rain was slowing at last. Our restaurant of choice was Schwartz's Hebrew Delicatessen on St.-Laurent, home of the legendary smoked-meat sandwich. Things didn't start so well there either, as we cut the line going in to find out that the crowd smoking outside the door actually was a line. We got in the line, finally got a table, but as the busboy set the table, I dodged a passing waiter and the busboy thought I was trying to rush into a seat. "I suggest you exercise a manner of courtesy," he said to me somewhat sharply. I was a bit taken aback...I'd been trying to do exactly that. The food was great, though, and I didn't piss any other waiters off in that exchange.
The rain had totally stopped while we were in Schwartz's, and I was sure to snap plenty of photos of the Main on the way back, including some shots of the very-quiet GoGo Lounge (it's a lot quieter when it's daylight, though there were a couple people at the bar by 5pm). We were going to head to the hotel to relax before the Kentucky Derby, when we took a detour across the McGill campus. Dave collects shot glasses from colleges he visits, so we immediately looked for the bookstore. Dave made it in with minutes to spare, though they were out of shot glasses so he opted for a pilsner glass instead. The sky was beginning to clear as we made it back to the hotel, where Carmine and Katie crashed and the rest of us chatted for a bit.
After an hour or so, we roused Carmine and Katie for the walk to the Bell Centre's Cage Aux Sports, a sports bar at the Montréal Canadiens' arena. We made good time walking down there, but no sooner did we get in the door that the gun went off in Louisville, and the Derby was on. Liam watched as the horse he'd picked to win challenged early but got steamrolled at the end. The race over, we retired to a booth for a drink...could you call that "pregaming?" The atmosphere wasn't what we'd hoped for, so we took off for Liam's next intended destination, the Pub Ste.-Elisabeth. On the way, we passed the St. Hubert we'd pooh-poohed the night before...it turned out there was more than a fast-service counter after all! Making note of it for Sunday's dinner, we kept walking and walking, finally finding the pub tucked away on a street we'd passed once before. Ste.-Elisabeth is a European pub with a terrace, and we were fortunate enough to score the two couches in the corner shortly after we arrived. The terrace never opened up, but we stayed until 10pm or so, chatting amongst ourselves and enjoying a few drinks.
Our next destination was to be the Jello Bar, the club we had visited a couple times before and always enjoyed. On the way over, we decided a late dinner would not be unwise, so we stopped at a convenient La Belle Province for what we were told was some of the city's best poutine (that classic mélange of French fries, gravy and cheese curd). Once fed, we took off again for Jello. Unlike the past times we'd been there, the back room was closed up for a private party, so we found space in the main room to enjoy our drinks, Carmine and Katie retiring to a sofa while the rest of us stood. Before the band took the stage, I ordered a Key West martini, but as I rejoined my group, Dave used his arm to illustrate a point in conversation, in the process knocking most of my drink onto some guy in a camouflage jacket (and my right side). I guess I'm not supposed to be a drunk. Fortunately, I still had half the martini to finish. Around 11:30, a live band took to the stage for a bit. The first set was solid, some good old-school funk, a little James Brown, some other covers and some original stuff too...maybe not the best band in the whole wide world, but just what we needed to set the mood (and groove) that night.
After the first set, Carmine and Katie were pretty worn out from the day's activities, and decided to head back to the hotel, but they asked if I could lead the way as they weren't as sure of how to get back. Instead, we decided to all head back together. Once back at the hotel, Liam, Dave and I were in the mood to prolong the night, so we stopped by an ATM across the street to refresh our wallets, then walked down to Rue Crescent, where more of the American and English-speaking bars and clubs are located. A couple years ago, Liam, Carmine and I had spent some time at a brew pub called Brutopia. As Liam said on the walk back to the hotel later, "We never speak that strongly about it, but we always end up there." Sure enough, there we were, listening to some live oldies while we downed a pint of hard cider each. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, just something relaxed and perfect for the night. We left Brutopia in good spirits. Our next destination wasn't too far from Crescent, and it was another one of Liam's co-worker's recommendations. Liam had read about this local pizza place called Al-Taïb where the pizza was excellent, served 24 hours a day, and served by men whose attitudes resembled those of the Soup Nazi of "Seinfeld" fame. I'd been nervous that things happen in threes, and after disrespecting our bellhop and the busboy at Schwartz's, I was on target to piss off a guy at Al-Taïb, but then I remembered the guy my drink got spilled on at Jello and knew I'd be fine. We got our pizza, and wasted no time in scrounging up another couple bucks for another slice. We walked back to the hotel around 3am, fed and watered, and feeling pretty good about the night. I stopped to send an e-mail before bed, while the others took the elevators straight to bed.
And we weren't done yet.
Sunday dawned, and we checked out of the hotel on time, but left our bags and cars under the watchful eyes of the hotel staff and valets. This time, we stopped at a Second Cup café for our breakfast coffee. I hadn't expected to do a lot, since Sunday is usually a city-wide day of rest in terms of commerce, but that didn't stop us from squeezing in a bit of Sunday-morning shopping. Carmine and Katie spent a while trying stuff on, Anne bought a scarf for work, and Dave and I perused CDs while talking about movies and music. We regrouped and headed down to the closest Métro stop for our final tourist destination, the famed Old Port.
Carmine, Liam, Anne and I had seen the Old Port many times before, but for Dave and Katie, it was all new. We skipped the usual touristy elements of the trip, the Notre-Dame Basilica and such, and made our way for the shore along the St. Lawrence Seaway. From there, we could see Parc Jean-Drapeau, the park where we'd spent many an afternoon on the dangerously-designed seesaws and other unsafe playground components. We also spotted the ever-so-cool Habitat '67, an avant-garde apartment structure designed for Expo 67 years ago and somewhat forgotten by time. We took in the sights of the Old Port for a bit, before rushing back to St. Hubert's quick-serve counter for some lunch we could take on the road, so we could get back to Manchester in time for Carmine and Katie's Sunday-night flight home.
And so the trip came to a close as we pulled into the short-term lot at the Manchester Airport around 8pm. Liam and Anne headed for home, Carmine and Katie for their flight, and I took Dave for a quick tour around Manchester (and a stop at Burger King for a late dinner) before we went back to my house. He crashed there overnight for his Monday-morning return trip.
And with all of that, another Montréal trip was in the books. I think this one ranked as the best. Maybe it was the little nuances, lighting the candle in the bathroom for a "romantic" shower or the numerous references to YTMND.com that we could draw or the things that I saw for the first time again through Dave or Anne or Katie's eyes. I don't know why I'm even analyzing it. It was just a good time. I can't wait to see what we do for a fall trip. Liam's definitely the star trip planner...with his loose agendas in mind, we always have a good time.
Hard to believe it was already a month ago. It's hard to believe it's almost June already. I'm not sure where 2006 is going.
Anyway, a lot has been going on lately. I'm going to try and fill you in over the next couple days. I was thinking this weekend how I hadn't posted anything on my usual lamentations lately. It's time. Not that you want to read it, but there's always something going on in my head. I've had someone to vent that to lately. Maybe that's why I'm not as quick to say it here.
Another weekend come and gone. This one was longer than the rest...but I'll say, lately they feel so short.