You might recall that we took a nice short holiday in Canada a couple of months ago. Now that Jess has made available the last of her pictures from Vancouver, I've got the full set. What I'm posting tonight are the pictures from out on the island (i.e., all pictures taken in Victoria). There are quite a bit more from Vancouver, back on the mainland, but I think I'm going to save those for tomorrow. These are plenty enough for now.

• First shots: the largest undefended border on the planet (if you don't count US Customs agents).
  
• On the ferry to Victoria: the fantastic view, Heather and Andy posing, Jeff and I posing, and two more pictures of Heather.
  
• First night there: Brad at our dinner together. Then, when everyone else had the sense to go sleep, Heather and I said, "So what if we've been up for over 24 hours straight? Let's go clubbing with Brad!"
  
• Shots from Brad's apartment: Alice sprawled on Brad's lap, Andy so tired he can't move, more tiredness with Heather, Brad sprawled out on the floor, Heather dragging Andy by his belt loop, Heather's CD carnage from A&B Sound.
  
• Dim sum: The group (shots one and two). Heather and Amy afterwards, Brad and Will afterwards.
  
• In downtown Victoria: The group of us at the Cheesecake Restaurant. At long last, a picture of Alice and Brad. The cradlerobbers rejoice at their young female finds. Jessica-the-starlady gets a star-shaped cluestick. We found a boat named Karina at the dock.
  
• At Judy's house for dinner: Amy with Guinness, Brad with beer, Frank (king of spaghetti), Heather pontificating, people crowded in Judy's kitchen. Jess contemplates climbing into Brad's old treehouse. Some group shots (1, 2, 3, 4). More shots from the backyard (1, 2, 3, 4). Judy's martinis are legendary and potent. She has the cutest piece of kitty art on the wall. Andy is mystified by pasta forks. Four random shots of her house (1, 2, 3, 4).
  
• The Trans-Canada Highway has a mile 0, so we went. Me, alone. Andy, fearless explorer. Andy and Heather. Heather. Jeff and Amy at the marker. Jess on the promontory. Alice and Brad hugging. Jeff and I again. Andy and Heather. The group (and again). The shoreline.
  
• A quiet pub crawl: The group. Amy, Heather, and Jess playing pool. A rather amusing bit of signpost graffiti we spotted on the way back.
  
• Some random scenery: Alice and Brad hugging, and a closeup of that shot. Also a similar one of Heather and Andy.
  
• On the ferry back to Vancouver: Alice and Brad catching a snooze, and Amy and Jeff having a schmoo moment.
  

Those of you who use the "Brad's Blues" skin will undoubtedly notice that the picture of me playing pool looks a bit familiar.

No, I haven't had these images sitting on my hard drive for a couple of months…really, I haven't!

Vancouver pictures tomorrow.

Under normal circumstances I would agree that the journey taken is better than the destination reached. This, however, I do not believe could be termed a normal set of circumstances. Our flights home: a truly nasty bit of thunderstorm downdraft coupled with delayed flights and sleep deprivation. In my mind, those can't compare to a relatively normal vacation.

Written on Saturday morning in Victoria:

* * *

Me, in shorts, sitting crosslegged in front of a locked hotel lobby in British Columbia. Such is the joy of getting up early to write and then discovering the joys of a) your spouse having the only room key, which you discovered (too late) that you needed to have to get back inside the hotel and b) that your travelling companions are still asleep and have the only key that will unlock the rental car.

Yes, that, exactly.

Most of the past twenty-four hours have been spent in meandering preparation for canadatrek. The end result: I'm packed, and Jeff's packed. Everything that's required has been done, and the to-do list is down to more mundane things, like running loads of dishes and cleaning the litterbox.

The cats know that something's up. Every time Edmund and I cross paths, I receive a baleful kitty stare. Perhaps he has come to associate the smell of luggage with me vanishing from his life for a few days. If he has, he's a smart kitty. Tenzing, on the other hand, just wants to be played with.

Website-related news: at last, I have working code to make domesticat skinnable. I'm going to use the time while I'm gone to let the graphic-design part of my brain rest and rejuvenate. I'm working on a second skin, based off of a theme of storm clouds and lightning, but I'm waiting to get permission from the original photographer before I use the picture.

The time for leaving approaches. My attempts to whittle down on the to-do list continue. Slowly upon slowly, the attempts are succeeding.

Left:

• Pick up and photocopy passports
• Drop off white comforter for dry-cleaning
• Give Kat plant watering schedule
• Make mortgage and truck payments befure we leave
• Put out trash night before we leave
• Cut my hair
• Cut Jeff's hair
• Power down computers
• Clean up kitchen
• Buy film. (Lots.)
• Do final loads of laundry and dishes
• Clean litterbox

Hard to believe—a week from tonight the journey begins. Pick up Jeff after work on Wednesday, and drive down to Birmingham with Heather. Stay the night—neatly enough, in the same hotel we stayed in the night before we flew up to Victoria last year. We'll get up very early for an insanely early set of cross-country flights.

I am pathetic, I am funny, I am listmaker, hear me roar.

I make a lot of lists, although I occasionally like to smoke some crack and think that I'm not exactly ruled by my to-do list. My troubles of scribbling down multiple lists—and subsequently losing them—have been cured by my December procurement of a Handspring Visor—quite possibly one of the best purchases I've ever made.

Trips bring out the worst listmaker in me. Especially, in this case, when I will be travelling quite far from home, and will end up in a different climate than the one I'm beginning in.

For my birthday, my friends gave me this fabulous spiral-bound notebook that now contains everything from poetry snippets to plants I want in my flowerbeds to random sketches of my cats.

It appears that, once again, the world's ended and everyone forgot to let me know ahead of time.

I knew something had to be up this morning when I woke up and Jeff informed me that 1) he wasn't feeling well and 2) that he was taking a sick day. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the McSpouse that is only slightly more likely than me to continue soldiering on through dismemberment and slight cases of death, actually took a sick day.

I brought him the sandwich he wanted from Publix (foot-long, on white, no mayo, and all kinds of stuff that would keep me from snitching bites like banana peppers / onions / pickles), the particular species of chips that appealed to him, and the makings for more Kool-Aid.

For all of you that kept needling me to go to the doctor, yeah, you were right, okay? Now be quiet! Actually, I got better news than I expected. I have a nasty ugly sinus infection—bad enough that the doc felt that part of my problem was that I wasn't getting good sleep because of it. So Dr. Puri loaded me up with industrial-strength antihistamines (a shot, no less!) and sent me home with a prescription for a wicked-strength anti-coughing medicine and told me to get some rest.I have GOT to find out what these meds are. Two hours after the shot, I would've sworn to you that I wasn't even sick. I could breathe, I could think. So I did a couple of loads of laundry, made a very-necessary run to the bank, and picked up a few bags of groceries. Then came home and lolled on the couch for a few hours. Last night I slept like a log and actually woke up before my alarm this morning (thus, having enough time to write this before I amble off to work).