We only managed an overnight, but we did get our regular Thanksgiving Sainte-Adèle trip in, at least, spending time at mother-in-law's cottage with her for a bit.
Can you believe I haven't done a post on such since 2017?
And do you remember my first post on coming up here with Christine? Geez, that was an awful long time ago. Incidentally, that was the same weekend, landing on the old homestead en route back to Ottawa, that Christine met my mother, for the first and only time.
I'm not sure what our young ladies were doing in this particular photo, but I've since declared it the cover photo for their first album. Something moody, experimental. Something with attitude.
I did manage to get some good reading in, including through a 2014 collection of essays by Garrett Caples, and a variety of other publications I've already completed reviews for (whether already posted or soon-to-appear). Am I working on poems? Am I working on prose? Neither, unfortunately, caught up in reviews and what else, having lost a week to the brain-fog of post-dental surgery (implants!), and another week to the brain-fog of a head-cold. I really need to get the rest of this work out of the way so I can get back to that novel. I mean, honestly.
What else? We spent a day or two taking a breath, in the wilds of the Laurentides. There wasn't time for much more, and our young ladies even managed a walk or two, including one with their Oma, where she took this picture.
