In Belleville

I’m in Belleville for the weekend. Which is nice, since tomorrow’s Father’s Day and all. My dad’s not around, though. He’s working most of the weekend.

I was supposed to come up last weekend, but I ran into difficulties. I took the car into the shop for what I thought was a quick oil change and tire change (I hadn’t gotten around to getting it off the snow tires, and figured that might be a good thing to do before I embarked on a long highway trip). They were backed up, though, and it took about two hours just for them to get around to start working on my car. And then, after the quick oil change and tire change, they pointed out a bunch of stuff that needed work (although not urgently). I decided it was probably a good idea to take care of a couple of those things, but that meant I wouldn’t get my car back till the next morning.

So that scuttled my going-home plans last week. It worked out, though, since it gave me the opportunity to go to Toronto for Rin’s birthday and hang out with Stela. These are good things.

Anyway, here I am, sitting it the living room of my youth. My parents seem to still be clinging to their Bulls paraphernalia. There’s a “Zellers Go Bulls Go” towel on the armchair opposite and my mom was still wearing her “more cowbell” t-shirt this morning. I don’t think they’ve quite accepted reality yet.

Part of my plan was to phone up a bunch of bed and breakfast places and see if there were any likely candidates for Ellen and I to stay at for my sister’s wedding that I could go check out while I was here. But after getting nearly no sleep the night before last and then driving home through a typhoon last night, I’m not eager to phoning around a bunch of places today. That may be an excuse, since if I’m honest, I’m never eager to phone around to places.