I haven't been blogging much because I'm writing. There's only so long I can tolerate a computer screen. Computer screens, even the most ergonomic, are evil. I'm not worried about plasticine-headed aliens in UFOs abducting me, but I can feel the neurological tendrils of computer energy going through my eyeballs via the optic nerve into my brain and touching whatever in my grey matter gets electrified to give me migraines.
Deliberate fiction (novel writing) takes precedence over accidental fiction (blog), right? Right.
I took a day off today to go walking with R. We took the subway to a point 12 k at a diagonal from here and walked home.
Popular cafés were swamped with people milling on the sidewalk, sitting wherever they could outside, waiting in line. Very Montreal. This spot still has its winter igloo up.
We walked over the mountain which my Alpie genes oblige me to specify that I mean the Montreal mountain. It's... I'm checking here... 233 metres or 764 feet high. More than a hill but no Alp. Higher elevation meant there was still snow, though it was corn snow, granular and wet, only a couple of degrees away from being slush.
Down the mountain, across downtown, down, down, down toward the Lachine Canal and the proliferation of condo projects. Is that going to be penthouse up top? An open-air pool? The billboards promise all kinds of delights. A couple of weeks ago one said (in French): Being able to walk to work, that's true luxury! I guess sales weren't going as expected though, because the message was changed to: Luxury is being able to choose. Laminate as opposed to granite?
Home again where we've been moving rooms around. Furniture is pushed about, walls need to be painted, patches on the floor re-varnished. Cabinets had to be taken off walls and everything inside will hopefully not be broken.
In the meantime we can have tequila in a champagne glass and listen to Manu Chao.
R assures me he has a plan for putting the cabinets back up on the wall without help.
Bye for now!