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My little sister and her husband are visiting from Hawaii, in honour of my parent's 40th anniversary. They decided they had to visit the Poutinerie, as featured in these very pages, and today was selected as the day. Though battling a cold and insomnia, I bravely ventured into Toronto to show them the way. We were joined by my older sister and her husband, who, though local, also wanted to try the fantastic melted cheese delights.


Little sister Anneke and her husband Craig ascend the golden stair to gustatory delights.


Craig is drooling.


Older sister Krista shows off her bacon poutine.


Awww. Love means stealing poutine without having to say you're sorry.


I also took them to the Hairy Tarantula, where I was able to show off some of the books I've written and contributed to. I'm a superstar down at the cracker factory!

I've called in sick tomorrow. I intend to spend the day tucked up in bed with the latest Rumpole of the Bailey volume.

Sometimes, sunny-side up eggs are aptly named. Breaking the yolk is like releasing a tiny store of liquid sunshine. You eat them and think - "Wow. These are darn good eggs. Yea verily, I dineth on ambrosia and honeydew." Really, you do.

Poorly prepared fried eggs are nasty, stringy things with a disgusting sheath of transparent vaseline-like goo. You eat them and think - "Say, this came out of a chicken's butt. You can tell."

I leave it to you to guess which sort of eggs they prepare at the Dew Drop Inn in Caledonia, Ontario. It's 9:20am, and I've already eaten three Rolaids. Yech. Still, the bacon was good. And I do enjoy the chance to spend a half hour reading and drinking coffee - mentally bracing myself for another day of work. So, I guess it all evens out. And one can't be a proper journalist and without eating in greasy diners. After all, you can't be a hard hearted purveyor of tradgedy without a hard heart. Might as well start the cardiac hardening process with the arteries.

The last few days have been good. On Friday, my co-op student came into work with pictures and a story about the Battle of the Bands. Yes, he'd buggered off for the afternoon, but he actually did work in the evening. Perhaps there is hope for him. In the afternoon, we went to take photos of a country fair. In a sudden fit of good will and guilt over bad-mouthing him all day, I bought him a candy apple.

He unwrapped the candy apple, and it fell off the stick as he lifted it to his mouth. It hit the ground, but was relatively unscathed. As Jason reached for it, he accidentaly kicked it into a pile of dirty straw. I laughed pretty hard. In some small way, the cosmic scales of justice have been righted.

On Friday night I finished editing the zine. What's that, you say? I edit a zine? Why, yes I do. And it's Jim Dandy! "Guide to a Non-Existent Universe" it's called, and it may be found at http://im-chat.com In the past, it's featured interviews with Orson Scott Card, Margaret Weis, and Piers Anthony. Go check it out. I'll wait here.

Saturday was a good day, by any accounting. Erin and I went to Ikea in Burlington, with all the other young married professionals, and bought some strangely named bits of furniture. We didn't just buy flat pieces of wood and wall brackets to serve as wall shelves for the kitchen - we bought "Kuplen" (or something like that) shelves and "Sigfried" brackets. Yes, them Swedes are nuts. Or Danes. Where does Ikea come from, anyway? Their furniture stores always look like they were made of Lego.

In the afternoon, Bill and Tim came over, and joy of joys, we actually got in a solid RPG session. We played Fading Suns from 5 till 10. We dined on Chinese take-out and listened to the Heavy Metal soundtrack. We Truly, 'twas the best of times. Bill is playing a war-scarred Acolyte of the Brother Battle, and Tim is an ambitious Decados noble. The two of them ended up stranded on one of the Symbiot worlds. Heh heh.

On Sunday, Erin and I went to church. It's been over a month since I went, and it was quite worth it. Good message, touched base with some family friends. We went home for a quiet lunch, and went out to buy a drill. Yay! Power tools!

In the evening, we went on a date. We went to see "Hearts in Atlantis." It was quite good - by no means a life changing film, but very well put together. We got home to find my sister waiting for us in the driveway. She's just been offered a job in Hamilton, and hopes to move back here for November. She's staying with us until Tuesday, while hunting for an apartment or townhouse.

All in all... a quiet weekend. But highly satisfying. And now, back to the grind of the week. Next weekend is Thanksgiving, a three day weekend I would look forward to more if it didn't involve a 200 mile drive to my parents. I love visiting them, of course. I'd just be happier to visit them across town. :-)

That raises a thought. My parents moved to Kingston (a beautiful old city) about four years ago, and took my older sister and younger sister with them. My younger sister has since gone away to school in Winnipeg, and my older sister moved into her own place in Kingston. Once she moves to Hamilton, my nuclear family will be entirely scattered. It's a strange thought. My parents will be, in one sense, alone. Of course, they are very active in the church and have several friends. They are also far from old. But I wonder if they will remain in their house until the end, or if they will move back to Hamilton when they retire.

And where will my little sister settle? She has talked about moving to America for a few years to gain experience as a social worker. It is still very strange to have a family whose every member is an adult.

Anyway. To work!