Le Weekend est ici, aujourd'hui, etc.

OHMYGOD, I know there's a recession on in Ireland and all that...

...and I know the weather's crappy and we're having a glorious Canada Day/ Quebec 400 week here in Nova Scotia (but not in Quebec apparently) and all...

... but did you have to punish us by sending Minister Dick Roche over to be your representative at the Quebec celebrations????

Could you not have sent one of the Mary's????

Fragrant, sexy, smart, funny women the pair of them (Coughlan and McAleese I'm talking about).

No, no, no.... we got Dick the Roche.

I was standing in the kitchen last night stirring the lovely salmon in a mushroom, pesto and cream sauce that I was making for dinner, thinking about the lovely week I'd had and the nice long weekend to look forward to, with CBC on in the background blabbering on about how Quebec was the beginning of Canada (thinking there was me thinking it was Annapolis Royal, but how wrong am I, OF COURSE it was Quebec and not Nova Scotia), and how terrible that the $90 million celebrations were washed out (you could hear the rest of Canada sniggering in the blazing sunshine) when, suddenly, I hear THAT VOICE.

At least the Queen Dad got a break from him for a while, I suppose that's the silver lining.

And as Ammonite said on her blog, we don't speak Gaelic in Ireland, we speak English mostly, and a bit of IRISH, seeing as we're from IRELAND.

Anyways, enough of the bitching.

The sun came out on Canada Day and I sat in the yard with Ms Maggie Beach for a while, and then Orc, and then our visitors came round and we had a BBQ and salad made with greens FROM THE GARDEN ALREADY and watched the fireworks round the lake.

Mr. Sun has been blazing down ever since with a good forecast for the weekend and I have today off. Hooray. And so has Himself. More Hooray.

So the canoe will be finished for Queenie's birthday. So I shall get my paddle around the lake.

We painted the canoe white and when it is upside down on its stand it looks like a whale, so we are calling it Moby.

Well, I am calling it Moby and Himself is calling it Moby's Dick.

And everyone has to paint something on it before the end of the summer, so it will be a truly communal canoe.

This week I had to go to Baddeck for two days for work.

Boo hiss.

Imagine having to go to Baddeck for two days, two glorious, hot, still, steamy days in July.

Imagine having to spend a day in a workshop with a crowd of funny, smart Cape Breton women.

Imagine doing that and getting loads of development work done in four hours flat and still having a good time.

And then having to sit on a deck overlooking the Bras d'Or lake eating dinner with said women.

Discussing the nature of love and its little quirks.

One of those great female conversations.

Terrible.

Just terrible.

It was such a pain in the ass.

Really.

I hate my job.

Never mind, I have a three day weekend to recover.

Today is yard day, lots of whipper-snipping and weeding to be done. And then tomorrow is Craig's birthday barbeque, up the hill past Red Chair Man's yard, so that should be fun.

I love the weekends. I love the early morning of the first day of a three day weekend, when Himself and Kitty are still fast asleep and I can potter around on my blog and wait for the day to heat up and not have to worry about anything for a while.

Bliss.