"Oh, that was a close one... Almost there... YEAH!!!" ~ What I thought was cheering for the Oilers, but was actually people encouraging a parallel parker. We should all have a cheer team for that.

My nephew is neurotic. I know: "Pot, kettle..." But I'm not the one pulling out my hair in clumps (waxing aside). He's turning six, not 26, and I'm not sure how I would relate to the troubles of today's children. A couple of hours with him, and I'm revising my statement about having kids (I should not have them now, maybe the right answer is never.)

Well, Friday Feast turned out pretty well. It was a small intimate group made up of Malcolm, Anne, Stephanie, and Catherine. I have a picture of them smiling and eating - proof positive that it was decent! And despite the mumurs of concern as "eeks" came out of the kitchen, and a questioning "Is something on fire?" I felt that they had confidence in me - which made a big difference. Thanks guys! It was a slightly more energetic Friday Feast (as compared to last week), and soon we were up to our old antics: Tickle fight! What I can't stand is that despite the knee surgery and knee brace (and probably painkillers), Malcolm still bested Anne and I *grr*. At least Stephanie got in a couple of good jabs. Catherine was "the bystander".

Started out with a lot of ambition for Saturday - it was time to attack the old scrapbook project. But I was sidetracked (as per usual), and instead joined up with Stephanie to attend "Nearly Normal" a one act reading (?) by Marty Chan. It was very good. By the end of it, we were both sopping up the tears with tissues. The other dozen or so attendees were fine. We're such saps :) We headed back home (um... that would be Steph & Rem's) and picked up groceries on the way. We encountered all these people heading towards Whyte Ave. After a bit of searching, I honked the horn (Darren would be proud). They guys had a guitar and this weird plastic hanger sculpture along with a sign... how could one resist?

Nicolas was in town for the weekend to catch "the riots". Met up with him briefly on Sunday... my how things change. He was doing more moving to Calgary - and is officially living at his own place. Went through the old house and I felt overly nostaglic: Remember that crack in the floor? How about painting those walls? Oh, and the tiling... That's what happens when you spend a summer helping with renovations / redecorating. Happy times.

The sun in shining - both in Edmonton and in Greece. (Thanks for all the updates and pictures, Rhianne.) And less than a week away until I escape to Crimson Lake... can hardly wait.