Mischief Managed

Anna has gone back to her Oompa Loompa land as the crib champion.

She arrived doe eyed into an airport of overpasses, and it took her an hour before she decided to come outside into the heat which I had been circling for said hour. But that was ok because I wasn't leaving. We drove around in the hot, we hung out in the shade, and we watched a production of The Taming of the Shrew by a small theater company where one of actors actually split open his temple and, bleeding, delivered his last lines before disappearing and a long intermission was called. We played crib. There was copious amounts of finger poking, but we settled down while we attended Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Discracefully, we barely swung our poi, but we would go adventuring and find a new point of view for Ontario from the escarpment and a neglected pioneer cemetary where we read their stories off the stones. I showed her some of my favourite houses, and we picked rasberries from a stand on the side of the road. I took pictures of her hands to add to my collection, and she took pictures of me battling fiberglass dinosoaurs. Under a lazy sunny days we were under a park tree flicking bugs and reading the new Harry Potter in tandum, taunting each other about what happens next if one of us got ahead but stopping to compare excited notes at the end of a chapter. We had one last game at the airport before she had to go.

For me, add some small study time on my thesis, and my Jeep came through on two successful trips to scary Toronto airport, and once again it was brought to mind that I need less distance between friends or more time to travel.

There were no random dart attacks, throwing people in the shower,or roomates hurt in the production of her vacation. But I can't complain.